Pure Yoga

I don't want to sound like I am rubbing my exercise in the last few days in any one's face, but last night I went to a yoga class with my friend, Anne, and it was wonderful. I rarely exercise, so as my friend pointed out "any type of exercise that incorporates laying on the floor for a bit, is cool with me." I did how ever break a sweat and felt very "worked out" afterwards. I also felt like an inflexible goober a bit in the class with all the yoga divas, but I tried not to think about that and to get think more about reaching my "happy place" or whatever you are supposed to think about while you are bent in weird positions and your muscles are twitching.

Also, not to sound like a completely shallow retard, but I have been to a yoga class before and I didn't feel as compelled to continue my yoga experience because the place didn't really give me the right vibe. It was a class set in a warehouse type building and felt more industrial and cold then warm and zen like. But the class Anne took me to last night was much more of what (I'm about to say something stupid) I pictured a yoga place to look like, based on my knowledge of yoga through movies and TV shows. There was a statue of a Buddha type elephant thingy, lots of plants, gauzy curtains and candles. So being apparently very superficial, I plan on going there again and trying to become better at my warrior pose.

Ok, completely off the subject. This morning I was walking to work and about to cross an intersection, when I noticed a crazy woman talking or rather arguing to herself. For some reason this particular intersection beings out weird things because about a month ago I was walking home and walked past a shoe at the same intersection. The weird part about the shoe was that it was a black leather high heeled Manolo Blanik pump which appeared to have just been walked out of. When I passed the shoe I tried to look around to see if I could find the one shoes person who apparently hadn't noticed they were missing a shoe... and not just a shoe but a Manolo! Anyways, back to this morning. So I'm watching the woman who is very upset with her imaginary friend and keeping my eye on her as I pass her on the street, since I was a little worried she might mistake me for her friend. As I reach the opposite curb there is a middle aged man wearing khakis and a blue polo who must have caught his toe or something on the sidewalk because all of a sudden he yells "FFFFFUUU******!" It was super load and after the initial shock of hearing someone drop the F Bomb at 8:00 am extremely loud, really funny. The best part was the lady who was walking in between myself and Mr. F started laughing.