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My shoulders are SORE from last night's yoga class. I don't know where my yoga skills have gone. At one point last spring Claudia told me I was her best student, but I doubt she would say that now. It's true that she's been ramping up the level considerably in that class, so if I'm crumbling at least it's in poses that are more advanced. But I HURT when I am doing poses (like Cobra) that would have been a cinch for me before. For now my best answer is to add more yoga in hopes that I'll build my fitness level back up to the point of being able to handle these things again. That, and do a better job of watching my form. I like that we're doing tougher poses at a more boot-campy pace, because I'm happy to work hard at this stuff, but I could use a bit more time to concentrate on form. There's a HUGE middle ground between Claudia's class and the tree-sloth-slow pace of some Anusara classes I've taken. I think maybe I'll write her an email about it.

To add to last night's mortification, I had thrown on a t-shirt as I was running out the door to class, and didn't realize until I was well on my way that it was ever-so-slightly mildewed from sitting around for a while after I washed it. The mildew odor got worse as I made my way up the street, but if I turned around I'd miss the start of class and the whole warm-up. I kept going and prayed that I'd just be able to hide away in a corner. I did get my corner, but I can't guarantee that the mildew smell didn't spill over to bother everyone else. Eeps. Not a feeling I want to have again.

I switched my desktop image to this lovely photo from Botany Picture of the Day. I think I'm going to have to deal sooner rather than later with this urge I've got to visit the Southwest.

Seema's setting up a surprise birthday party for Ming at the Corcoran's Gospel Brunch this Sunday. I haven't seen those people in ages, and it's been even longer since I went to the Corcoran. Between that and the National Book Festival (with possible visit by buffra, right?), I'm seriously tempted to skip this weekend's trip to NC.

I just had a massive mate spill at my desk. The cup (skim milk, no sugar) tipped all over my keyboard tray and right on beyond to my jeans, jacket, and chair, leaving an intriguing slug shape on the upholstery. Mercifully I was well into the tea so it was just barely warm by that time. It doesn't seem to have done any damage to the keyboard, or I couldn't be typing this. Still, I don't really relish the thought of sitting here in cold wet jeans, and I've already accomplished things above and beyond the call of duty today. I believe I'm outta here.

Current Mood: done

4 comments or Leave a comment
yokospungeon From: yokospungeon Date: September 27th, 2006 08:46 pm (UTC) (Link)
Sorry about the keyboard spill. I've had a few of those in my time.

Yes, home James, and don't spare the horses. :)
inkognitoh From: inkognitoh Date: September 27th, 2006 10:51 pm (UTC) (Link)
I did get my corner, but I can't guarantee that the mildew smell didn't spill over to bother everyone else. Eeps. Not a feeling I want to have again.

Oh my goodness! Thank funk its not just me. Now, I loathe the smell of dank clothes on strangers but feel prey to it myself two weeks ago. My shirt hadn't dried/aired properly before I took to Scotland and over dinner, slowly and surely as my body temperature rose, so did the stank. Yuck.

I'm sure the Yoga class was too busy trying to filter their own body fumes to notice your musty top though LOL. Sorry you had to suffer.
florafloraflora From: florafloraflora Date: September 28th, 2006 12:37 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks, man. I rewashed that whole load of laundry last night, so I should have a clean bill of smell for the foreseeable future.
(Deleted comment)
florafloraflora From: florafloraflora Date: September 28th, 2006 01:34 pm (UTC) (Link)
Hey buffra, I'm just about to PM you. I'm 90% sure I'm staying in DC this weekend, and it would be great to see you if you decide you can swing it. I'll give you my number so you can call me if it works out.
4 comments or Leave a comment