Cliché. (Touché.)

It’s possible that yesterday I became a Boulder cliché. After at least two years of resisting True Blue’s requests with something verging on disdain (luckily she ignored me), I finally gave in. She had been changed by her yoga practice. Was completely thrilled by it. So I have no idea what had held me back for so long. It could have been that it would be hot (I HATE being hot) and there would be lots of sweaty, drippy people (I also hate sweaty, drippy people). It could have been that half of Boulder thinks this studio is the yoga satan, so reviews were mixed — not REAL, just a hyped up version of the real thing, etc. And plenty of people had assured me that I wouldn’t like it. So I believed them and stayed away. Until yesterday.

The hubby and I both made THE BIG DECISION after a couple of phone calls back and forth with TB. Hubby and I would stagger classes, attending hubby-with-hubby, followed by wifey-with-wifey an hour later. Moral support lined up, we were good to go.

After handing the girlies off in the parking lot to a sopping wet, still breathing heavy husbino, it was my turn. TB was a perfect hostess. Showing me the ropes. Giving me the occasional assist during class, etc. And when it was over, I felt unbelievable. Still do in fact. Actually can’t wait to go back. Even the guy surrounded by the puddle on the mat next me won’t keep me away. (Hubby is in too. He’s going back for round two tonight.)

I also must mention that the much-needed and sought after Friday evening outing ACTUALLY HAPPENED. I know. I was in shock too. About two hours before our friend’s birthday dinner, our savior called. She’d be here at 6. Woo-whooo! A night on the town. The day had been jam-packed with Miss 6 activity (morning b-day party, a constant stream of questions and entertainment/snack requirements) and Beanie care. Plus the never-seems-to-end household stuff (how the hell do I EVER find time to work?!). But we had our get-out-of-jail-free (almost) pass and I suddenly had a second wind.

We had a great dinner at The Med and were inspired enough by the energy of the younger crowd we were with to continue the night at a bar. Where we were officially indoctrinated to the current drink of choice: the CAR BOMB. Who were we kidding? I can barely drink a beer after having wine with dinner, much less GUZZLING one down that has a SHOT plunked down inside of it. But we did. And Saturday was — not unexpectedly — a bit rough. We survived though and it wasn’t nearly as woe-is-me as the wine incident. Not too bad for old folks I guess. (We were still home and in bed by 11 ☺.)

Yesterday was blog fall out day. First, Swiss Hero weighed in on my “Europeans don’t shower” comment from a couple of times ago. I had been waiting for that one. And she took my bait. She even got me back in her next post. Very funny.

Then, my grandmother called last night. She’d read my reference to her “family harmony utopia” and didn’t take kindly to it. She’s even getting a computer so she can fire off comments at internet speed. I’m so proud.

And that’s a wrap. Only one more day and school’s back in. (One down, one to go.) Wish me luck.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Stickshifts and Safetybelts. Cake. Just a catchy little tune. And I do love Cake (the food and the band).