Yoga

Yoga Studio
Originally uploaded by Tokyorosa

The Photo

I took this photo this morning. That is me of course, reflected in the yoga studio door. (Isn't that a beautiful logo?) David and I were waiting for the studio to open.

Yes, we went back to yoga today. My finger was fine so the down dogs should have been easy, but they ended up being a challenge anyway because I got the giggles in class (which usually happens when a) something is funny, or b) I think something is going to be difficult or is going to hurt).

The Rest of the Day

This morning, Leah's dog woke me up at seventeen minutes after seven. Leah said he usually gets breakfast between six and seven a.m., and I think he let me have seventeen extra minutes out of the goodness of his heart. While he ate his breakfast, I put on my shoes so that we could go for a walk. Walking Leah's excited dog in the morning basically amounted to being dragged around an unfamiliar neighborhood by an excited dog while I was half asleep. Of course, not knowing the neighborhood (and only having walked him once on his usual route with Leah) I took a wrong turn and completely missed the yard that he does his business in. Luckily, around the corner we found the same kind of buffalo grass that he likes to poop on in another yard so his routine was only slightly altered. (Dogs, you know? I mean, you move their food bowl a few feet in any direction and they end up in therapy talking about what a bad owner you are.)

After walking was yoga.

After yoga, we--David, Judi, and I--were kind of tired so we decided to go in search of caffeine. That meant crossing the street to The Grove, the little all-whitey cafe across from the yoga studio. (I say all-whitey, and I mean all-whitey. Seriously, I get a little nervous when I see so many white people gathered all in one place. It's like they're all gathered to devise yet another whitey down-with-brown plot or something--which is completely ridiculous, because white people don't have to plot in private, they do it out in the open because they're shameless that way. (Present company excepted, of course.) Anyway, Dave counted six (?) brown and brown-compatible people (including me, one man who was clearly half-brown maybe, and an Asian woman) in the crowd of 50-plus people. I mean, what is that? Ten percent brown in a city that is clearly more than ten percent brown? That's ninety percent white people. I'm just not comfortable with those odds.)

After coffee, I came back to pick up Leah's dog (his name is Sam, by the way--and he's a yellow lab) and take him with Judi and her dog Crunch to have the dogs' pictures taken with Santa at the pet supply store. That was a blast, but really overwhelming in it's own way. Sam was proclaimed "very photogenic" by the woman taking the pictures, and the pet-store Santa loved on him something fierce, so Sam was a very happy dog. And he was even happier after that because we had yet another walk, this time to the park with Judi and Crunch. Then I was ready to collapse because yoga combined with sitting a dog? Is exhausting.

Which is the state I am still in--exhausted, I mean--only I'm propped up with sugar in the form of cookies from the panaderia. Mmmm, cookies.

So it's not even seven p.m. on a Saturday night and I am ready for bed. I mean, I'm like an eighty year old. In fact, I just called Judi (who isn't eighty, but who is well into her sixties), and she was getting ready to go out to a party, and I was, like, hell's bells. She must be on speed or something.

Ugh. I feel like a wrung out washcloth.

I'll warn you though: Tomorrow's entry is yoga angst. Be prepared.