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My meeting with Uma Thurman takes place in the Blvd, the restaurant in the Regent Beverly Wilshire hotel, a fact that comes as a vast relief to me, not just because I love the hotel
and I happen to be staying there but because the alternative was to go hiking. I had braced myself for the prospect, packing my Pumas and some sunscreen, doing a lame set of squats in my room the night before, but when she walks into the hotel lobby, BlackBerry cord in ear and blonde hair tucked under a brimmed cap, I realize that all the squats in the world would not have helped me. She is tall, so tall that her legs, snugly encased in skinny, skinny jeans, end at a point somewhere ...