Life and Times of AlieMalie

I am not a yoga person.

I am a spinner, sometimes an eliptical machinist and occasionally a weight room junkie. But I have been to the Bikram Yoga classes here in town twice in the past two days because a friend of mine is one of the instructors. Holy crap, these have been the two best workouts of my life to date. I feel like my entire body from the inside out and from the top to the bottom has had a full body session. Not only that, but I also feel like I’ve gotten a 90 minute massage as well. And I can breathe deeper. It’s great, really. It is a 90 minute class in a room that is heated to 40C/115F with 26 postures. The first hour is spent standing and the last half hour is spent on the floor. The standing excercises normally kick my ass and I end up having to lay down for a bit of them because I get a bit light headed, but nevertheless, as much of them as I can do, I do and I always manage to complete the floor excercises. My back feels great, my abs are definitely feeling, but mostly I feel it in my back. Oh, and my arms. My shoulders are revolting, but in a good way. It’s the good warm tension that you feel after a good workout and not the pain you get from lifting too much weight too many times. I highly recommend it to anyone, especially someone having back problems – my back pain has vanished literally overnight and now I feel especially strong and powerful. Rar!

When I got home this evening I pulled into my driveway to see two sets of eyes peering back at me: two raccoons. Le raton laveur. The rodent that washes. We used to have a bunch of them when I first moved in to this house about 11 years ago but there has been a bunch of construction going on in the past few years and I haven’t seen much wildlife. My owl decamped and the local duck migrated and didn’t come back here. But now that I’ve seen two raccoons, that has just totally made my day. Fantabulous.

And RU is furthering his plans for a rendezvous in NYC.

Is it really Monday? ‘Cause Mondays aren’t supposed to be this great.

Cheerio!

Gross profits. I’m sick.

Remind me again why we pay such inflated prices for gas? Oh, that’s right. Because there are a bunch of fat pigs who are the greediest sumsabitches on the face of the planet. And they all think they can get away with this shit because their leader is president. FUCKERS!

What a way to start a Monday morning. I was walking to class, a little late, when my phone rang with RK’s special ring. Remind me that I need to delete that – or maybe I shouldn’t – at least it warns me that fuckwit is calling. So I pick it up though I really don’t want to talk with him, and as it turns out he’s really upset because one of his “friends” in his new town has died after jumping from a moving pick-up while fighting with her boyfriend. He hangs with this sort of crowd. Fucking geniuses. Anyway, so she died after being run over by the back wheels and now he’s upset. Oh, sorry. He said he called to say he misses me and that he just wanted to say hi. Fuck a duck. Sorry, but to be completely honest, I really don’t care. It’s sad that a woman has lost her life, but I’m not your shoulder to cry on anymore, RK, you burned that bridge a looooong time ago. Anyway, I wish he’d go away. Forever.

I bought some yarn yesterday because I want to have a hat and scarf for when I go up to NYC in March. I had seen some when I went shopping last weekend but I thought that $10-15 was a bit much to pay for a hat or scarf so I thought instead I’d go shopping for some yarn and have my mom make me one of each. Well, I don’t know if any of you knit, but yarn is fucking expensive. I ended up spending $56 on four balls of the stuff I really liked. Granted, it’s really soft and very beautiful (I’ll take a photo of it when I’m finally finished), but $56?!? Holy shit. Oh well, it’s bought and paid for and I’m learning how to knit. My mother started the scarf for me because I don’t know how to cast on and I’ll be able to finish it because it’s just simple knitting; as for the hat – haha – she’ll have to do that one, the only thing I shall contribute to the hat is the ball on top.

So much more to write about revolving around family drama, but I don’t have the energy for it. Suffice to say that my mother’s boyfriend’s daughter drives absolutely everybody up the wall. She’s never had a formal diagnosis, but it’s my opinion that she has Asperger’s Syndrome. But she just thinks she’s different and no one understands her. To some extent that’s true, but for a whole other load of reasons. When I finally get some emotional energy back, maybe I’ll post more.

‘Til then, I’m off to dream of hot Hungarians.

Szia!