Om

Monday, Craig and I watched The Big Lebowski. Sheesh, what a trippy movie.

Yesterday I went out on a serach for a yoga mat after work. Shivangi and I had planned to meet at the Y for a class, and I didn't have much time. I acted fast.
I researched yoga centers in the closest 3 towns & I wracked my brain for places I saw mats being sold nearby. I headed to downtown Andover: nothing. I go to Dahn's Yoga Center, thinking, "Yoga centers MUST sell mats, right?" Oh, how wrong I was. I ask them where on earth I could find a yoga mat. They point me to the place across the street, which, of course, was the second most logical location to find a mat: the grocery store. Yes, Wild Harvest Market was the location of the day for my yoga purchases (I bought a ball too!) Happily giggling, I bought my finds and scurried off to class.

Shiva and I met excitedly to take our first yoga class together (she takes yoga in DC when I take it in NYC/London). I remind you, though, that both of us are seasoned dancers from a young age, and have indeed yoga-ed and pilated our share in our adolescences. This class was geared towards middle-aged women who have never kicked a battement in their life, or hit a thorough plank, for that matter. Whenever the lady told us where we should "feel it", we didn't. We tried to do the more complex steps, but it still wasn't enough. Feeling relaxed and slightly unsatisfied, we tried to redeem our efforts by staying an extra half hour with someone and doing a yoga-inspired ab workout. Slightly sticky & more content, off we galavanted to my house.

Penny swung by wihle we cooked dinner, and we gossiped like the females that we are. We concluded with the watching of The Seven Year Itch. Marilyn Monroe is just elegant.