lovely rita, meter maid

After teacher training last night I met Kristin at Urth on Melrose for some tea. I should have known by the big Escalades parked out front and the flood of flashes in front of Bodhi Tree that something was up. We ordered, got a table, and then in walked Paris Hilton. With a sherpa spritual guy. No joke. He followed her in as she talked on her cell phone. They settled at a table right behind us long enough for him to give her darshan, because EVERYONE goes to Urth for darshan. Then they left. See it here at Perezhilton.com. Say what you want about Paris, I actually felt sorry for the sherpa. She's entitled to some spiritual lovin -- we all are -- but he looked lost and deeply sad. **In the event you see me in Us Weekly soon lookin' *ragged*, I'd like to remind you that I had just gotten out of training where I did a lot of yoga. Thank you.

***

On Tuesday I start in a writing group. I am really excited and a little scared. When I asked what I should bring, Scarlett suggested I bring something to read. Of mine. To the group.

Uh oh. Here's how I see this one rollin':

Hi. My name is Vanessa. I'd like to read you a piece I've written about kombucha. Well, I mean, a report... a paper... an essay thingy, on kombucha. KOMBUCHA. Oh yes, sure -- it's a fungus in some tea, sorta... but it's VERY nutritious. How do I know? I just feel better after I drink it. Yes. You *drink* the fungus. Hey so, you guys wanna hear my blog -- I mean, my essay?

Holy shit. This is gonna be good.