Pedicures, Mother Theresa & Astral Projection

So, critics of our fair county often bemoan the homogeneity of the citizens. After going to New York, I remembered that there are places in the world where I am -- refreshingly -- a minority (being blond and blue-eyed).

I had an interesting experience that illustrates how variety can be found even in Provo if you look... sitting in a pedicure chair. The Viet Namese man who was working on me had a tat consisting of a set of wings and a number. When I asked him what it represented, he proceeded to explain that it represented the date that his soul took flight... without his body.

"Ah," I said, "How interesting. Tell me more."

He proceeded to give me his personal treatise on how astral projection is possible in every religion, although very few people have the skills to achieve it.

"Hmmm. Please explain," I pressed.

"Take Mother Theresa, for example..." he went on to extol the virtues of her life only to criticise her for never finding the kind of outer body enlightenment that he had.

After several minutes of this interesting diatribe, he left me to dry. As I contemplated his words about enlightenment and life, I wondered if I had happened on some special being, a guru of some kind... here, in a pedicure chair in little old Utah County.

Then, I looked at my paint job.

Well, you can't be good at everything. Maybe he should spend more time out of his body.

K.K. Rowling?

So, the good news!

A certain literary agent -- who will remain unnamed (but part of Dystel Literary Agency)-- contacted me while I was in NYC. He asked for my full manuscript which after some help from my good friend Shannon Farmer (thanks Shan!) I felt ready to send him yesterday morning.

Now we wait. And hope. And pray.

I have a photo of J.K. Rowling over my computer in my home office. I will go home and meditate on it this evening.

New York Minute

I'm in New York this week for the HBA conference. It's cold here, but learning a lot at the conference and the energy and architecture is exhilerating.

I had dinner with my good friend Christian Sherwood who lives on the west side. We had Mexican food, asked for "hot" and got mild. Who knew that New Yorkers were wimpy when it comes to their spice.





Still waiting to hear from Troy Dunn to see if he was able to contact his literary agent.

Crossing my fingers... toes... legs... just about anything I can find. Let the book LIVE!

By the way, WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THAT JANE AUSTIN DOESN'T GET THE GUY IN THE END!!!!! Obviously I'm still upset about the "Becoming Jane" movie. The audacity of the plot. How dare they call it a romatic comedy! I don't care how cute James McAvoy is... I feel used.