Heh. All three feet of Tantra is up my right sleeve.

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Oh! For the first time I told someone that has met me about this diary! Jon from New Zealand, I mentioned him before.

Because, you know, I still don't want the people in my everday life to know about it, but this diary is certainly something that I would like to share; I enjoy it and I use it to express a lot of things about myself that I don't normally let fly. I'm fond of Jon, and we're far enough removed that he is allowed to see this. So yay, I hope he visits.

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One time, a while ago, I was feeling really weepy and depressed, and my friend Nat was over. He made me a drink, which truly worked wonders.

A cup of dark tea (he used Ceylon Orange Pekoe); in it he put tabasco sauce, honey, and a little bit of lemon juice. A lot of tabasco sauce, but not enough to overpower the rest.

He said he came up with it off the top of his head, but I swear it came from the depths of his mind. It was an upper spell if ever there was one. He said his mom--a nearly insane but very talented witch--used to make brews like that when he was a kid. He himself is getting to be quite the talented witch healer. I don't know how he's doing with it now, but I remember a couple years ago when we were taking a sign language class together, my knee was, for no apparent reason, giving me hell. Like, walking up and down the stairs to my apartment was terrible. Putting weight on it didn't hurt all that much, but bending it any which way did. Hurt All That Much. Augh. I'm remembering this.

I had dinner at his house, and it still pained me. After dinner, we had tea, as is customary with him. He fixed me a tall mug of something that didn't seem quite like tea, but was sweet and tasted good. It took him a minute to make it, and he did it without talking and with his back to me. When I asked what it was, he showed me a small bouillion-like cube that I guess dissolved into the water. The cube was wrapped in paper that had Chinese writing on it. When I asked him what it was so that I could find it in Chinatown, he gave an evasive answer and I left it at that. He told me, "This should help your knee."

I couldn't guess how tea was going to help my knee, but truth, when I woke up the next day it was 90% better. Like, I woke up and it was immediately so much better, and it gave me hardly any trouble. I was awestruck at how dramatically it had improved. I called Nat and told him, smiling, and I was like, "What is IN that tea? What did you put in there? Did you say some sort of spell over it while I wasn't looking?" I was half-jibing him, and he, sounding pleased, says, "Me? Why would I be saying spells?" and I go, "... ... OH!" and we laugh.

I miss him. He's a very awkward person, but a very good one.

4:38 p.m. 2004-01-22�