It may not be sheer coincidence that Pilates and pain both start with P.
I think it released all the leftover toxins from some vital organs deep within me and now my eyes are swollen one-third shut. I don't really want to know why. To rip off a description from Laurie Notaro, I look as though I have two potstickers underneath my eyes. Interesting. And lucky for you, that is all I will say.
Except for the part where I dreamed last night I was covered in blood-sucking bats. But that was just my spine readjusting. And my knees. And every backrib that I have. But you know what, I will go back for more of it next Monday night. Pilates, Mistress of Pain, I fear you not.
I will get a lot of web referrals for that last line. Oh well. If you are looking for Flexy Girls, you won't find those here either.
So. I got my Grizzlies floppy hat. I love it. Yes. Thank you. It's reversible.
And now, I want a pink iPod Mini.
I'm sorry. I'm real boring today. I think it's all the extra toxins. Tonight, I'm going to watch a bunch of movies and pretend I didn't twist my spleen in half.
(as I drink a healing green and white tea Fusion, it's good, even though a Molsen Ice might work better.)
Forget the pink iPod.
Coachella or bust.