one of my favorite yoga teachers i ever had was a girl who had trained as a teen and now taught in her young twenties in LA. she had bleached blond long hair and wore those sweats with juicy written across her ass. she had an ass, mind you, not a butt or anything like that; she herself referred to it as such.

she was completely without guile or affectation, naturally spiritual like this: she’d obviously grown up in the valley and so had seen it all and was absolutely nonplussed, the way only true angeleans can be. they just dont give a damn about affecting some approximate cool. its totally unnecessary for people who just live.

so she’d come to class with a gigantic starbucks double-shot cappuccino and neon-colored juicy pants and she’d take everyone to heaven. it all had humor but serious depth. she was everyone’s favorite because she wasnt full of it. chick could disarm an army.

i love that. i despise preciousness. i appreciate the get on with it thing.

last night a business owner downtown revealed to me that the whole city is undergoing a massive attack at the architectural level (he didnt call it that) and that soon over the next four years or so there will be interesting chilean ‘scrapers rising over little cow town austin like a vegas bad dream. oh well. he and his business partner kept repeating what obviously they’d heard in chamber of commerce meetings for local business investors–it’ll be alright, it was inevitable. you know, words you’d use in any hostile-takeover or coup d’etat. not a problem.

sleepers just keep sleepin.

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