I just laid back, took a deep breath and said, 'OK, I think everything is going to be all right now.'

--Shipwreck survivor Robert Lambe

Yesterday was a perfect day in Aquaplania.

I woke up to Coney ardently licking my hand, and then adjusting and readjusting his lounging position in bed in ever more innovative ways. He ended up curled up on my pillow with his throat resting on my throat--mutual surrender.

Got up for walkies and breakfast and then went in to Manhattan with M.--we rarely commute together, so that was fun. He read Marcus Aurelius (the closest Monkey comes to "self-help" literature!) and I read about Justin and Britney, who still love each other, folks. Don't let's give up on these kids yet.

Then he went to work and I took an excellent Bikram class with one of my favorite teachers. After that, I used my Xmas gift certificate for an hour long massage at Aveda.

Sweet mother o' chitlins--this massage was the best I've ever had! It was almost a parody of itself--the very gifted masseuse threw in every technique I'd ever heard of--hot rocks, shiatsu, Swedish, aromatherapy...the massage table itself was a sort of water bed...Afterwards, I was so relaxed I was...transparent, flowing. I felt like I could walk through walls.

When I got home, there was a package waiting for me: a used copy of Living Yoga I'd ordered for $2.00 from Amazon on Sunday night. I couldn't believe how fast it got here, considering that I'm still waiting for Christmas gifts that I ordered on December 14 via Half.com. The book (not to be confused with the recently-released Christy Turlington coffee table book of the same name) is really well put together. It's a compendium of articles--almost like a text book--about the various aspects of yoga, with extensive bibliographies for each topic.

"Another yoga book? Haven't you read everything there is to read about yoga?"

No, no! I feel like I need to keep up with all the best books so that I can refer to them when I need to and also so I can recommend them to students.

And in another terrific USPS coup, I got my package of CDs to sell at the show--great timing. And included therein was a best-of-2002 compilation from my label heads/pals Annika and Mallow, with an amusingly doctored cover pastiche of the latest Wilco album, starring their adorable French bulldog.

After a toasty nap, I headed into the city to play my gig at a folk bar that's trying to change its image to a more pop-oriented place. It was me, Lesh, Blue and Fred C Dobbs. I had a great time--it was a pretty casual and not overly rehearsed gig, but it went off well, and we all had fun. I managed to eradicate most of the alien phlegm and tinnitus that had been plaguing me since before New Year's, and I got to borrow a very groovy little Fender Mustang from the mighty Fred Dobbs. Fred is my good luck charm onstage--I always feel more relaxed when he is in my band (we briefly played in a band together at the end of the last century).

Monkster brought several people from work--almost the whole office! So it was a good, responsive crowd, and there was much merriment in the air.

We stayed at the bar for just long enough to chat/shout with most of our friends, and then Monkey and I subwayed home. I read my new yoga book all the way.

All that, and we were in bed by midnight.

Poifect.

Did I mention that I am now the content editor for an animal-oriented news website? It's a volunteer job, and it's wonderful. It keeps me up to date on...well...animal news and it keeps my editing skills alive (although they are not in evidence in this diary!) God love them animules.

I'm gearing up to play a sort of virtual role-playing game called The Prosperity Game. Won't you join me?