Carnegie Mellon offers free online classes, and John and I have taken advantage of the Elementary French 1 course. It’s slow going, but it’s going. My weeknights are pretty well scheduled out for the summer. Monday is for jazz class, Tuesday French, Wednesday zumba, Thursday tap class. I was hoping for yoga on Friday nights, but that class didn’t materialize. It’s just as well – I’ll need a night off now and then.
I saw an oddly shaped cloud on my way home from work today. It looked kind of like a wolf or a coyote with its head thrown back, like it was howling at the moon, except it looked nothing like a wolf or a coyote and an awful lot like an alpaca. An alpaca howling at the moon. Made up of clouds. Too bad I was driving. A picture would have been awesome, even though it probably wouldn’t have looked anything like an alpaca howling at the moon.
*Howling Alpacas is the name of my next band.
I practiced a little bit this past week after not really keeping up in last week’s dance class, and you know what? Practicing helps. Who knew? My second dance class (EVER) was much better. Except for when I fell on my ass.
We were learning I was learning to pirouette, and apparently I lean back when I should lean forward, and then I lost my balance (worse than the other times) and fell on my butt. It was cartoonish. Luckily, it only happened that one time, and it seems I’m a lefty when it comes to turns since I almost look good turning left. Almost. It’s fun and I like it. Yay for dance!
I have tried on every dress within 15 miles of my house over the last week looking for the one I’m going to wear to the wedding this weekend. ALL by myself. I’d walk into a store, grab armloads of dresses in my size, take over a dressing room, and try on every one. I took pictures of the good ones and sent them to my posse (Pat, Emily, and Molly for immediate feedback via text, Mom and Mindy for more leisurely feedback over email), all of whom talked me into buying entirely too many dresses, most of which I will be returning (I’ve returned one. Two more are in the car, waiting for me to get back to the mall.). Sunday was about shoes. I bought THESE most awesome shoes in hot pink:
I should take a break from shopping.
I just got home from my teen/adult jazz (beginner) class. Beginner my ass. Out of four women, I was the only one who’d never danced before. (I don’t count one month of tap in high school for a musical or ballet as a six-year-old that I promptly quit.) Two of them were teenagers who used to dance when they were little, which actually meant until they were about 13. They’re 16-17 now. The fourth woman used to dance. So…yeah. This is going to sound…I don’t care how it sounds. It’s true. I can’t remember the last time I was the worst at something in a group of people. It’s a little bit stressful, even when the class is fun. But it’ll get better (I’ll get better), and I did enjoy it, and now I’m REALLY annoyed that I’m going to miss the first tap class on Thursday. I’ll be SO behind next week. At least I didn’t have to worry about what I was wearing. Only one of the teenagers was wearing little dance shorts. The older woman was wearing long loose yoga pants and a blouse-y top, and I wore my capri yoga pants and a tank top. Perfectly acceptable.
Oh, crap. Gotta run. There’s laundry to do before I can pack for this wedding.
I am now the proud owner of a pair of jazz shoes and a pair of tap shoes because I have signed up for a contemporary jazz class and a tap class (both for beginners because, well, I’m a beginner). I’m very excited. The first class is a week from tomorrow.
While I was out shopping for these shoes, John spent the afternoon upstairs with Riley, who still isn’t allowed on the furniture. The last time we allowed him to sleep on a piece of furniture on a regular basis (a wicker loveseat we kept on the sun porch in our last house almost TEN years ago), he ate it. Chewed it all to bits ATE it. So now, Riley isn’t allowed on the furniture, and he knows it. We know he knows because he never tries to get on the couch or the bed when we’re at home (only when we’re away and he thinks he can get away with it). Usually. He’s getting bolder. Today, with John just across the hall in the office, Riley got on the bed twice. I guess his dog bed with an old cushy comforter on it isn’t soft enough anymore. I’ll know he’s made the next logical leap when he tries to get on the bed while we’re still in it.
My right eye was bothering me this morning, so I decided to take a break from my contacts and wear my glasses to work today. I wore one of my favorite sweaters (if only I had it in a forest or olive green or a deep red – this blue is beautiful, but it’s not really my color) and the little clock Mindy got me from JewelMint. My outfit had nothing to do with my decision to wear glasses, but apparently the combination of glasses and little clock clicked for me. A coworker told me I looked studiously cute. I will totally take that. So here I am, looking studiously cute:
And very pale and very tired. But I am NOT wearing a 3/4-sleeve sweater. This is according to John, who doesn’t believe in them. Therefore, that is not what I’m wearing. Because they don’t exist.
Riley hasn’t been eating well. He was eating intermittently before we went on vacation, and we didn’t really ask a lot of questions at the kennel. They said he did well while we were gone, but I didn’t think to ask how often he ate. He didn’t eat when we came home. We took him for a run this morning, and we noticed we could feel his ribs. Prominently. So I asked John to get something delicious for him when he stopped at the store on his way home from today. He came home with a jar of beef gravy. I filled Riley’s bowl with the usual dry food, doused it with gravy, and wouldn’t you know? He scarfed it down. I’m not sure it even took him a full minute. I will do whatever it takes to get Riley back to fighting weight.
(No dogs were starved in the making of this post. He didn’t seem to be suffering or starving (or he would have eaten the dry food in his bowl these last couple of days), and he’s never been one to beg for food (unless it’s steak or something). Not eating regularly isn’t all that unusual, but able to count his ribs is.)
We’re back home from a wonderful week in France. We had two days of beautiful weather, then lots of rainy days in a row (COLD rainy days), and then the day we flew out (which I think is still yesterday) was lovely. Tease. Pictures soon. We slept about 10 hours last night. Went to bed around 7:30, lights out at 8. It wasn’t even dark outside yet, but to us, 8pm felt like 2am. Now I’m good. Riley is happy to be home, and so are we. (He was a little confused about why we were all going to bed before the sun, but he went with it.)