Im in the lobby of a Marriott Hotel after having "slept" sitting up on a Virgin Atlantic red-eye flight last night. Some of our group went to see art Museums--the Tate and the Modern. Some went to just tour around downtown London. I knew I didn't have enough energy for either. For six pounds (about twelve dollars) you can use the pool at this Marriott. I swam a little, then collapsed in a chair and fell asleep. A hot shower, and I feel semi-human--with another all-night plane flight in front of me.

This settles it. I am not going to be Angelina Jolie when I grow up. I don't have the stamina.

But the really great news is that I found out a poem of mine won the Writer's Digest award for unrhymed poetry. I get money--always welcome--and more importantly, a chance to meet with editors and agents. This is what I've been waiting and working so intensely for--a week after I was feeling that nothing was happening, it was all at a standstill.