in which I do yoga but do not levitate
Yesterday after work I went to yoga, a new class (a more advanced level) and a new instructor for me. Her name is Jane and she looks a lot like the scary yoga lady late nights on public television, masses of thick black hair worn up in a complicated way, leotard (an actual leotard! Who wears leotards?) and serious ropy yoga muscles. This class though was really really good. Challenging but not to the point of being frustrating. I was happy that it didn't repeat too much of what I already knew, I think there were only 1 or 2 poses that I had done before. We did lots of hip and knee joint work against the wall, and some stading poses (triangle moving quickly into half moon…sorry but I don't know the sanskrit names) that were positively aerobic. Afterwards I was a bit sweaty and feeling very stretched out and happy.
I like yoga, because while I may not be athletic I sure am bendy.
I had a weird dream last night where I went to the house where the band Sleater-Kinney lived (they all lived together in my dream) to see a show, but I was too early, so they asked me to work in their garden. Carrie Brownstein handed me a trowel and gardening gloves.
I hate gardening. It has never occurred to me to garden. (That's DIRT, people!) But I'd probably do it for Carrie.
[Under the heading of “too much information”:] My lunch (baked potato) has mysteriously made me a bit queasy, so I'm off.
—mimi smartypants