flying charcoal - beware

It's kind of like Daily Affirmations with Stuart Smalley. Every Tuesday morning, my Russian yoga instructor begins our bright early morning 6:45AM class with us closing our eyes, her telling us good morning, that yoga is special, and that we're special in choosing to do yoga. Today I was still adjusting to the new routine & flow of the new job, so there was no yoga. Instead as is to be expected, I lugged in a huge shopping bag full of photos and a cork board with more, yep, photos. So without yoga, I'll just have to pat myself on the back here. Indulge me. Thanks.

Other random things... never mentioned the weekend. Saturday included a much needed detox session with the Fashionista at Nail Avenue. The nail tech was confused as to why I'd opted to venture to Van Ness from Capitol Hill. My bank account understands.

Saturday evening Sassy and I headed out for some VA party hopping. Our first stop was for a friend's cook-out. She and her roommate are splitting up. We were dubbing it their break-up party. Seemed appropriate. I made "friends" with the self-dubbed bartender, who seemed to have it out for me from the second I told him Miami was not all it's cracked up to be. Don't want to know my thoughts? Don't ask =) The highlight of this stop though had to be the nice gentlemen who were firing up the second grill for the hot dogs I was pushing for over the already overflowing supply of hamburgers. As they were checking if they were properly heated, one guy accidentally flung the hot coal straight at yours truly. I managed to quickly scoot myself back at least a foot, escaping the ball o' heat. Reflexes en pointe? Check.

Stop two was another party at Ballston, ehem I mean VA Square. I guess it's a fine line, but I still say that if I can SEE Macy's in front of me, I'm in Ballston!! Sassy and I had to call Brando, who assured us no, we were not lost. Keep going past Gold's Gym? Yes. Highlight here would have to be the shopping cart, which was being used to tote the grilling and party items from the downstairs picnic area back up to their apartment. Classic. Sassy, the Fashionista, and I managed to catch a ride back into town with the Pitch. And who should be in the Pitchmobile? Noneother than a couple of our friends from stop one. Pitch kindly rolled us out once we were back across the District lines.

The weekend was capped off by a trip back out to VA, poolside. Much thanks to Paris for her willingness to extend her pool invite. With the balmy temps like today seemingly here to stay, I'm all about me some pool detox time.