Sore buns

To the tune of a blues song....

Woke up this morning (du du du du dum)
My buns were real sore (du du du du dum)
Accidentally did a backbend
Last night in my class (du du du du dum)
Turns out (du du du du dum)
That hurts my ass (du du du du dum)

This musical genius is dedicated to the elderly black man freestyling the blues at the bus stop on Queen Anne last night. Made me smile.

As it turns out, there was more than precocious puberty stopping me from dancing all these years. I have no coordination, no sense of rhythm, and not so much grace either. All that didn't stop me from having a blast last night at Capoiera. Despite the fact that I may be the worst dancer/martial artist these folks have ever seen, they were all rediculously friendly. For my seven bucks, I got a good two hours of almost one on one instruction from an amazing teacher who managed to not make me feel like a total idiot. He said to give it 15 classes before I decide that I'm just not cut out for it (although he certainly didn't rule that possibility out). So, I figure if I have no improvement by the end of August, maybe I should try some other athletic feat. Frolfing, anyone?

Today I'm taking care of a recent birth clients' newborn while she and her honey tie the knot at the Seattle Aquarium. I'm looking forward to snuggle time with this 5 week old cutie, seeing the aquarium, and maybe even shaking some sore boo-tay with the baby in the Moby.

Hopefully something exciting enough to write about will happen today!

Love yas!
Caren