The Visible Woman...August 17, 2003

The Sunday morning tennis, the beautiful club, the coffee, the papers, a meal at one of Austin's finest restaurants. What could be better?

It's the good life, I tell you.

It doesn't take away that tiny sense of dread that you might be doing the wrong things with your life.

At eight o'clock when I started tennis it wasn't even impossibly hot. After I finished the tennis (6-0, 6-2,
6-0) I was sweating a lot. But I went into the gym where the air conditioning felt ice cold and read my book on the exercise bike for a while. Then I did some ab things. I was dripping with sweat on the way home but I knew that I would drink some water and have a shower and feel great. And I did.

Lunch was standing up dragging bites of cheese and stuff out of the frig and pantry but, hey, every repast can't be a gourmet affair. I enjoyed reading the papers, sitting in our 'old living room' watching people go by in cars, on bikes, on foot and watching Chalow follow the motion with her head. Forrest interviewed someone for his column (coincidentally the person I played tennis with this morning) and they did it in the kitchen and I sat in the living room listening, enjoying learning more about the person.

Except for reading I didn't do much. Dad showed up way early for our restaurant evening and his friends were late. I read my book while we waited and talked to him. We had a great meal at Jeffrey's that started with caviar and ended with cheese. The soup and fish I had in between were great. The cheese was served with a little mini-scone. We had a Shiraz. It was great. It's the good life. Before we went Dad said, "It's a good life if you don't weaken." How true.

Sunday, August 17, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.
food	reading	writing	time	exercise	health and mood

some house 'fluff' I've been collecting, stuff I found on the street, kept as souvenirs or found in nooks and crannies and drawers...small toys, foreign coins, keys, gadgets	near perfection Some days have the making of perfection. The Sunday morning tennis, the beautiful club, the coffee, the papers, a meal at one of Austin's finest restaurants. What could be better? It's the good life, I tell you. It doesn't take away that tiny sense of dread that you might be doing the wrong things with your life. At eight o'clock when I started tennis it wasn't even impossibly hot. After I finished the tennis (6-0, 6-2, 6-0) I was sweating a lot. But I went into the gym where the air conditioning felt ice cold and read my book on the exercise bike for a while. Then I did some ab things. I was dripping with sweat on the way home but I knew that I would drink some water and have a shower and feel great. And I did. Lunch was standing up dragging bites of cheese and stuff out of the frig and pantry but, hey, every repast can't be a gourmet affair. I enjoyed reading the papers, sitting in our 'old living room' watching people go by in cars, on bikes, on foot and watching Chalow follow the motion with her head. Forrest interviewed someone for his column (coincidentally the person I played tennis with this morning) and they did it in the kitchen and I sat in the living room listening, enjoying learning more about the person. Except for reading I didn't do much. Dad showed up way early for our restaurant evening and his friends were late. I read my book while we waited and talked to him. We had a great meal at Jeffrey's that started with caviar and ended with cheese. The soup and fish I had in between were great. The cheese was served with a little mini-scone. We had a Shiraz. It was great. It's the good life. Before we went Dad said, "It's a good life if you don't weaken." How true.
JUST TYPING Are you strong enough? Are you woman enough? Are you ready for it? The good life.
		Food Diary. *About 10am* three pieces of provolone cheese and some potato chips and green onions and some tortilla chips *About 4:15pm* a couple of guacamole tortilla chips and some spinach dip About 7:15pm [Jeffrey's] Some bread and butter. Some caviar on a blini with creme fraiche and onions and chopped hard-boiled egg. A chilled corn soup with smoked salmon. A halibut on pasta with champagne grapes in a delicate sauce. A small piece of Explorateur and a mini-scone and some candied stuff on the side.
		Time flies.... I devoted time to flipping the pages of the papers. I thought, as usual, that I should try to get a Lives column published in The New York Times magazine.

		Reading. From the Journals of M.F.K. Fisher. Journals (and unsent letters) written not for publication and published later can be much more honest than, say, an online journal. I read the papers. The New York Times and the Austin-American Statesman are the only papers on Sunday. Now that I've disposed of the stacks of papers that were days, weeks, months old...I find myself vying with FFP for today's papers. I suppose I could simpy read them one day later...what would it possibly matter? Oh, sure, occasionally there's a sale or an event that I'll otherwise miss but maybe he will see the item and tell me about it. He often does that anyway.
		I decided today that I'm going to start transcribing old paper journals. I have an idea for using the material in them and in my online ones. I decided to do this but I didn't actually start it.
		Exercise A little over an hour of tennis. Thirty minutes on bike. A few ab exercises.
		Didn't really want to get up this morning...late night and alcohol were the cause...but felt fine when I did. Mood was good. The day just seemed to have the right 'shape.' 99/66 78