newest entry 2002-07-10 1:40 p.m.

Well, the shopping trip was fun but abortive. It was a whirlwind tour of every boutique and chain store on lower Broadway...We put more effort into finding one pair of sweatpants than I put into finding my wedding gown, but alas, we came up empty. If it was the right color, it was the wrong style. If it was the right style, it had some unspeakable logo. If it was the right color and style, my generous Polish midsection wouldn't fit into them. My editor (henceforth known as Editrixie) called today and told me that the photographer has a friend--a yoga teacher--who'd just love to model for the book. Meaning, "you thighs too big to box wit' God, girl." She left it up to me to step down, but how could I say "No, no, really, we'll find pants that fit! Let me model!" So I stepped down. Thus ends my illustrious career as a supa-dupa yoga model.

For those keeping score at home, you'll remember that I started the Dawn Powell book, found myself balking at its tone, and then: no news. Well, I put it down to concentrate on some other non-fiction things, and then when I returned to it, it had taken a turn for the better. It's still rather glib and dour, but the story has gotten a little more serious, and the power of Powell's prose is really starting to come through. Good stuff, if dark.
My rock and roll world and my yoga world collided last night--an aquaintance of mine from a music mailing list dropped by and took my class. I love when that happens!

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