Posted February 27th, 2003 by Michelle

This is the letter I received in the mail today:

Woman’s Day

Dear Writer,

Thank you for sending Woman’ s Day your recent article or idea submission.

After careful consideration, we have decided that your material is not suited to our current needs. This decision is not necessarily a reflection of blah blah blah… we received hundreds of blah blah blah, so we cannot blah blah blah… we appreciate blah blah blah and wish you success in placing your material elsewhere.

Very truly yours,

The Editors

I have to say of all the rejection letters I’ve gotten, this was, although form, one of the nicest. A) they called me a writer and b) wished me luck. Those are two things I’ve not yet seen. However, rejection is rejection, and rejection does not pay my rent. What it does mean is that I rewrite it, make it X number of words long, depending what other magazines want, and resubmit it. It is a terrific article, I know it is, and, well, eventually, someone will buy it. Darnit.

I spent the day in my ‘hood again, wishing that my fellow hooders Ian and Tessa were in town, but having a good day nonetheless. I spent almost three hours at a spa on 7th Ave, getting a pedicure and a leg wax. If anyone ever tells you that waxing doesn’t hurt, they are telling you a bald-faced lie. I got my eyebrows done too, and cried so much during it that the Russian woman waxing me started stroking my head, saying, “Don’t cry, don’t cry”. These things, these “beauty” things are appealing to me only on the most surface of levels… I have no need for them, but when I’m in civilization I figure I might as well do them. I have a hard time with the upkeep, though, and forget to shave for weeks at a time. There’s just so many other more important things to do. And I hate shaving. This summer, on my trek (americanfrontiers.net), I liberated myself from makeup, shaving, and beauty products. Now, well, it feels strange not to do them. But it still find them boring.

I’m trying to decide what I’m going to do this summer, where I might go. I don’t know why Africa is so much on my mind… or, hey, maybe Greece. Somewhere far. That’s all I know right now.