My Bits

For those of you who e-mailed (and even called!) about FW's letters to the editor in May's Poetry, thanks for the heads up. I was in B&N this evening and read them. All I can say is my hate letter was way cooler.

The Happy Booker sure is hooking me up. In the very short time I've known her, she's given me a monthly poetry column at her blog (She even gave me a deadline! Those fiction-types are professional.) and she's arranged for me to participate on two more blogging panels later this fall. Looks like I'll be bringing my filth to the washed literary masses for some time to come.

In non-literary news, my stomach, lower-back and hip muscles ain't working right, or maybe they're not working at all. This morning in yoga class I tried to do a shoulder stand, had both my legs flipped over my head, but couldn't straighten them. I'm not saying it was difficult. I'm saying it was impossible. Not good. Not good. To make matters worse, yesterday the instructor of the post-partum yoga class called to inform that it was cancelled. That class was supposed to focus on those kinds of problems. So now I can't talk about "baby yoga." "Baby massage" class is over too. I'm going to have to find some new yuppie-scum-baby classes to sign up for. There's "baby sign language" class that Chris is really excited about, but Gideon is still a little young for that. I can't wait for the day he can sign "Get over here and take care of this load in my diaper."