Dance & Drink & Screw

wink_martindale and I pottered around the flat this morning then went to a yoga class at 12.45pm. It was the first time Wink visited my gym; we managed to snag him a free day trial as my guest and had no problem finding a spot in the class. It was only an hour long and not that strenuous. Probably perfect after a workout but not good enough as a stand-alone class.

Our landlords/friends then invited us for a coffee in Victoria Park's Pavillion Café. We got our cappuccinos and sat outside, chatting about this and that - but mostly gossiping about people in my bookclub and the quiz night I attended on Friday.

I'm now lying in the bedroom, listening to iTunes, watching episodes of the brasilian soap Passione, reading bits of Tim Moore's Spanish Steps while Wink plays Zelda in the living room.

I discovered this great community which I think all of you photography lovers would enjoy too: everyday_i_show

I sat outside York Hall for over an hour yesterday evening before my brasilian friend Vini Bambini arrived on his bike. I knew he was going to take a while so I divided my time between an old copy of the Guardian's Review section and my iShuffle. There was a long line up of muslim women, who have special hours and days of the week when they can use the pools with no men about. My music selection reached a song by Dead Can Dance from their first album - one of those wailed by Lisa Gerrard over intense drums and exotic strings - and those housewives suddenly gained a more mysterious air.

Vini is my gym buddy now that my landlady cancelled her membership and only goes for occasional runs in Victoria Park. He suggested we try out this evening Pilates class because we've both had issues with our backs in the past and we want something else on top of the usual gym routine. It was going to be my first ever Pilates session but the instructor didn't show up. An australia wrapped up in white cloths substituted her instead and put us through familiar Yoga moves and mantras. My brain, in the cool and dark air conditioned studio room, returned to the muslim women swimming in the building's gut.

On Thursday, I'm meeting Vini Bambini at the gym, 7.30am. He'll do the treadmill for over half an hour because he's trying to shift some weight; I'll strain my wrists in the weights room. Then we'll say goodbye and I'll take a solitary shower in the changing room while he bikes across London to his office.

I've drunk a jar of fresh watermelon juice in the past 4 hours. It's by far the most exciting thing I've done today (not counting the mild trolling I did in the morning, and some xxx rated sites I found, but let's not get into that.) Yummy watermelon juice. Yummy.

I have something to confess: I found a 1971 yoga exercise book amongst my mom's books (if you can call an Ophra Oprah magazine collection "books") and I did some exercises in my bedroom. I was only wearing underwear and I had the balcony's door open. The wind touched my body, my nose was filled with fresh scents. I felt very gay. I woke up sore today and indulged in a bit of meditation at 16:35. I shall do some more yoga tomorrow.

My grandma is driving me insane. She doesn't have any hobbies, so she spends the day shuffling around, with candy in her mouth and her spotty, leathery hand rubbing her chest. She whines "I need some medicine. I feel anxious." When her dealer is around (my mom), she pops analgesics and anxiety-removers into her mouth and watches afternoon soaps. She's also very rude to the maids. My mom and I keep telling her to behave because we really don't want to go searching for new people to take care of Nicholas or cook the food. I'd die if I had to do any housework.

So, to recap, my grandma is addicted to sweets and drugs; my mom is a prozac junky, collects recipe books and eats way too much bread & butter; and I lean down, facing the computer screen, and salivate over hundreds and hundreds of indecent Livejournal posts. SLURP SLURP.

*Yawn*

The best thing on TV tonight:



I hope Brandy dies in a gruesome manner. Blood & guts are my chosen lullaby for tonight.