Kind of the same, right?

I’m in San Francisco this week for the day job. While I was here, I decided to take a yoga class at the nearby 24 Hour Fitness gym (I’m a member there). According to their web site, there was supposed to be a yoga class last night.

The web site was widely inaccurate. It turned out to be a hip hop class. I figured what the hell, I’d stay and take the class anyway. Of course I was the oldest person there, and I ended up being the only Caucasian — the others were Asian. The class consisted of two young women and two young guys. One of the guys was really good, probably the best student in the class. He knew how to make the moves “pop” — how isolate. It was fun watching him practice. I don’t really understand hip hop, but I did ballet when I was a kid, and jazz when I was in my early 20s, so I at least could do some of it. One of the young women had no sense of rhythm, couldn’t find a beat. But she smiled the whole time and really tried. It wasn’t something I’d want to do all the time. For a what the hell why not evening, though, if was fun. (I’d told the instructor and the other students that I’d thought it was a yoga class — the instructor responded, “Well — yoga — hip hop — it’s kind of the same, right?”)

This weekend I’m still in San Francisco, attending obadiah‘s wedding. I’m kind of treating the weekend like a writing retreat. I’ll be at a nice hotel, and I really don’t have anything to do except write for the weekend. There’s a dinner Saturday night, the wedding on Sunday, and the rest of the time, I’m just going to write. Or rewrite, as it were. I’ve had a lot of ideas, have been doing a lot of brainstorming about how to fix some of the problems with the novel. I’m really looking forward to it.

I hope ya’ll are having a lovely weekend as well!

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