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I just got done with my first real session of yoga, and holy crap was it hard. The entire thing is isometric, which looks easy, but man my muscles were burning up. The stretching we did last week felt so good and was totally relaxing. And we did it again this week but then followed it up with some yoga that could only be described as aerobic. And anyone who knows me knows I'm not down with the aerobics. But, this is the class, and I love it for what it is, and I'm going to give it my all.
That Quotes and Convos excerpt from my conversation with Sean (TAMUROCKS) has gotten me thinking. Maybe there should be a Miss Quoting Pageant. That would certainly be more entertaining to watch than the Miss America Pageant. She could go up to the mic and the announcer would say, "1 minute on the clock, top ten answers on the board. Chris Farley." And the contestant would say, "I've been using your product for a year now, and I'm still excited. They have a thin candy shell, I'm surprised you didn't know that. Hey Dad, I don't see too good, is that Bill Shakespeare over there? Lay off me I'm starving." And then the buzzer would sound and the results would be tabulated... God, thats a good idea.
Always one to try and share the wealth of visitors that I have on a daily basis, I have to announce the conception of another new blog. Chris (henceforth known as Topher ... his collegiate persona) has started a blog of his own. You can click here to read it, its pretty a pretty clever little page. Thats him up top in the cowboy hat for the one or two of you who haven't spoken to me in the past 4 months and don't know who he is. *wink*
So as I was walking back from yoga there was a young man, about my age, standing out by the ol' Sul Ross statue ... better known as the free speech area of campus. And right around as I got into the audible range, before I could make out individual words, I just knew that he was yelling about god or jebus or something. Nobody talks that loud in public unless they're spouting off some shit no one wants to hear. He was talking about how his friend went into a coma and he saved his life. Because the incompetant doctors with all their book smarts had said that if he recovered from the coma he wouldn't ever be the same. So this kid, being smarter than the doctors, started praying and cured his friend. Christ on a cracker, desperate people so often cling to desperate notions. I wavered between laughing, crying and wailing on him with my tennis elbow. But ultimately, I did nothing but ignore him, as I do most people on campus.
Speaking of, kind of funny. My friend Charlie is a senior in the corps. Don't ask how I got mixed up with a corps boy but I did. So I hear this corps boy (they all look the same to me) yell, "Hey!" And I ignore him, of course. And then I heard it again. And I was thinking that he was probably upset about the fact that the patch on my bag says, "War is not healthy for children and other living things," ala John Denver's Whose Garden is This album cover. And we all know corps boys are not taught, but trained, so I figured he was reacting to the stimulus of rationale. But then he finally caught up to me, boots clanking the whole way and grabbed my shoulder. He's lucky I'm incapable of inflicting any harm, unwilling to exert myself, untrained in any self defense, and lacking all sense of reflexes, or I might have flipped him over and put him in a hold. Damn lucky. Instead, I realized that it was my friend and said hi. Kind of anti-climactic, but I enjoyed the happy ending.
That's about all from the home front. I'm attempting to blog every day this week, but hesitant to make that claim cause I'll probably forgo one day this weekend. But I am starting to see my numbers steadily rise and I can only contribute it to my own dedication. So keep checking back. Peace out, you have nots.
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