Sweet Jesus, have I felt restless the last couple of days. It's kind of like the anxious feeling I usually have when I start my new pack of birth control pills (which I just did), but I'm in a good mood.
It's probably a combination of a million things; meeting all the Classy Broads on Saturday, the change in the weather, things changing a bit at work, the start of football, The Boy finding his new apartment ... there's a lot of stuff happening. But I feel like something should be happening to me. Or I should be doing something. Maybe I'll have another glass of wine.
I figured yoga would help. And as luck would have it, Bally added three evening yoga classes. The new schedule started tonight. There were only three other people in the class. I heart individual attention. It is a bit sucky because Monday class conflicts with Monday Night Football. And Monday and Wednesday classes start at 7:30. I didn't get home until just before 9:00 tonight. Though, I did have to stop to get gas. Still, it's like 10:00 and I have shit to do and I can't fucking be up all night. And yet, I'm sitting here blogging. Nice.
There are good things about the added and even later yoga classes. With class not starting until 7:30, I can throw in some cardio before class. I did that tonight and it felt good. I was nicely stretched out after cardio and I was warmed up for yoga. The additional classes mean that hopefully I can be less anal about my schedule. Hahahahahahahaha. Oh, that's a good one. But seriously, I'm going to try. Wednesday night is no longer Off Limits. There it is, in print. I'm going to do my best to not get into the "Monday and Wednesday are off limits, and I'd really rather not do anything Tuesday or Thursday, because I totally have to lift this week." Jesus. I need to loosen up a little.
New classes weren't the only delightful gym surprises. Note: the used condom on the ground next to my car in the parking ramp was not a delightful surprise. No more parking in the dark part of the underground ramp. There are some bad-ass new TVs up in the cardio area. There are three fewer TVs, but damn. If I can watch football (or basketball or baseball) on a sweet TV, working out is considerably more fun.
What else? Oh, I read this discussion about Sarah Palin: feminist or not? on Jezebel today. Fucking honestly. If you think she is a feminist, you don't know what feminism is. Having a vagina does not automatically entitle you to your Feminist Card. If you're going to tout to the press how your daughter made the choice to keep her baby and how you kept your baby after the Down syndrome diagnosis, yet if you had your way, you'd take that right away from other women, YOU ARE NOT A FEMINIST.
I'm confused by this quote: "On that stage last night, Sarah Palin represented everything the feminist movement claims to strive for: a successful working woman with a happy family life and a husband who helps raise the children."
Uh, I think the feminist movement is down with the happy family with a husband helping to raise the children if that's what you want. I'm not striving for that. I don't want kids. I'm not even sure I want to get married. But I have the choice to not have children or not get married. Jesus Christ.
Is it November yet? I know it's not, but that doesn't mean you don't have to get your ass out and vote tomorrow, bitches.