...and the rain turned to snow.
Came home and the house was empty. So sad.
One of the things I love about my life now is that I can walk over to Madison Market or Trader Joe's and bump into someone I know and get kisses and hugs and pleasant five-minute conversations which are a delightful addition to my day. While I'm getting more Pellegrino. And some really good turkey.
Took up yoga this week so it's official. I have morphed into the pierced, tattooed, poly, yerba mate-chugging, Burner yoga freak my Dad always wanted me to be. My conservative, right-wing staunch republican father.
Okay, uh...perhaps not.
And the yoga? Teh hawesome. My friend Carrie and I were going to hang out last Thursday save for the fact that she had yoga at 8. But...she also had a guest pass. I'd never tried yoga before, and was intrigued, so along I went.
After signing in with my guest pass and filling out several stupid forms, signing waivers, handing over my driver license, birth certificate, passport, and a urine sample, I was told I had to meet with a sales rep despite my insistence that I was NOT interested in membership. (this was 24-Hour Fitness). Informing the Ken-doll lookalike that this was the case, and pointing out that class started in five minutes, we were granted entry. To ensure my return to meet with said sales rep, they held my driver license hostage. Bastards.
Despite the awkwardness of not knowing what the hell a "cobra posture" was coupled with my obvious lack of innate balance, I quite enjoyed it. Though I really did not understand the need to stay in "downward dog" for so ruddy long. They acted like it was actually strengthening our core and increasing flexibility or something. Amateurs.
Once I got the hang of it I began to realize that this class was utterly kicking my ass. If the instructor said, "downward dog for five deep breaths" one more time I was going to assault her with my rolled-up yoga mat.
I left the class deliciously noodly and then realized I had to reclaim my driver license. Grumble.
I did manage to leave (license in hand) with a 2-week trial membership pass so I could join Carrie in other classes. The Saturday class we decided to attempt was especially engaging as I kept getting distracted by the beautiful African-American amazingly gorgeous man in the front of the class. swoon. Managed some reciprocated flirty eye contact so I am definitely going next Saturday.
Today I went (sans Carrie) to a Yoga center on Capitol Hill which was recommended by a good friend of mine. The only class offered on Sundays was the 2-hour Ashtanga yoga class, but I went anyway, determined. Loved it. Going again this week.
And then, when I left class this morning, the rain turned to snow during my walk home. Another delightful addition to my day.
One of the things I love about my life now is that I can walk over to Madison Market or Trader Joe's and bump into someone I know and get kisses and hugs and pleasant five-minute conversations which are a delightful addition to my day. While I'm getting more Pellegrino. And some really good turkey.
Took up yoga this week so it's official. I have morphed into the pierced, tattooed, poly, yerba mate-chugging, Burner yoga freak my Dad always wanted me to be. My conservative, right-wing staunch republican father.
Okay, uh...perhaps not.
And the yoga? Teh hawesome. My friend Carrie and I were going to hang out last Thursday save for the fact that she had yoga at 8. But...she also had a guest pass. I'd never tried yoga before, and was intrigued, so along I went.
After signing in with my guest pass and filling out several stupid forms, signing waivers, handing over my driver license, birth certificate, passport, and a urine sample, I was told I had to meet with a sales rep despite my insistence that I was NOT interested in membership. (this was 24-Hour Fitness). Informing the Ken-doll lookalike that this was the case, and pointing out that class started in five minutes, we were granted entry. To ensure my return to meet with said sales rep, they held my driver license hostage. Bastards.
Despite the awkwardness of not knowing what the hell a "cobra posture" was coupled with my obvious lack of innate balance, I quite enjoyed it. Though I really did not understand the need to stay in "downward dog" for so ruddy long. They acted like it was actually strengthening our core and increasing flexibility or something. Amateurs.
Once I got the hang of it I began to realize that this class was utterly kicking my ass. If the instructor said, "downward dog for five deep breaths" one more time I was going to assault her with my rolled-up yoga mat.
I left the class deliciously noodly and then realized I had to reclaim my driver license. Grumble.
I did manage to leave (license in hand) with a 2-week trial membership pass so I could join Carrie in other classes. The Saturday class we decided to attempt was especially engaging as I kept getting distracted by the beautiful African-American amazingly gorgeous man in the front of the class. swoon. Managed some reciprocated flirty eye contact so I am definitely going next Saturday.
Today I went (sans Carrie) to a Yoga center on Capitol Hill which was recommended by a good friend of mine. The only class offered on Sundays was the 2-hour Ashtanga yoga class, but I went anyway, determined. Loved it. Going again this week.
And then, when I left class this morning, the rain turned to snow during my walk home. Another delightful addition to my day.