Why has everyone who called me today asked, "Are you going out tonight?" No, motherfuckers. It's cold as hell out there. Actually, I was out this morning to go to yoga and then Super Target and then back out again to go to Rainbow because I didn't get everything I needed at Super Target, and it really didn't seem all that bad to me.
I'd honestly expected yoga class to be sparsely populated, and it seemed like it was going to be. The studio was once again 57 degrees, so our substitute instructor moved us in to the TMA room. TMA is Bally's martial arts program. But all I can ever think of when I see "TMA" is "Too Much Ass." We ended up crammed in that room like sardines. What the fuck? Why does everyone and their brother come out when it's butt-ass cold? It was a pretty shitty class.
The instructor likes to come around and correct your pose if you need it. She came to me when we were in the resting period while doing locust pose. You're to rest your cheek/ear on the mat while resting. Well, my boobs prevent me from doing lots of things in yoga, and resting my cheek on the mat after holding locust for a while is one of them. She was pushing on my back, trying to get me further down into the mat and I nearly busted up laughing. "Sister, you can push all you want, but the rack hiding under me isn't going anywhere. Maybe if you stood on my back?"
I've been terribly domestic with the rest of my day. I ran errands. I cleaned. Oh, Lord, how I needed to clean. It was like the Dust Bowl up in this bitch. Or the Dust Bunny Bowl, I guess. Then I ran more errands because I didn't get everything I needed at Super Target. The whole fucking point of me going out of my way to go to Super Target was so that I minimized the time I had to be outside. Why I ever bother to try to outsmart myself is beyond me.
Keeping with the domestic theme, I made myself a rather involved dinner tonight. I made these Spicy Black Bean Cakes. Which really aren't that spicy at all, considering there are two jalapeños in the actual cakes and one in the lime sour cream. Jesus H. Christ, these things were a ton more labor intensive than I thought they'd be. It is not easy to grate raw sweet potatoes, even if you're using the bitchin' box grater your siblings gave you for Christmas. I even made my own breadcrumbs, motherfuckers! Okay, so I couldn't find them at Super Target and forgot to look when I went back out. But fresh breadcrumbs are totally better anyway.
It was a good thing I made those black bean cakes. I've had like two glasses of wine and I'm drunk. That kind of thing is bound to happen when all you've had to eat all day was a bowl of corn flakes and a granola bar. Feels like one of those nights I'm going to be playing drunk DJ. Yay! I need a night alone, anyway. Last weekend was family-tastic. I may or may not be hosting people for football tomorrow, after I go to the gym and then have lunch with my sister and nephew. Next weekend I think I have plans with The Boy I Currently Like and probably the sushi happy hour that was supposed to happen today, but didn't. And my nephew's basketball game. The following week? Super Bowl Party, bitches!
Yeah, it's a drunk hermit DJ night up in here.