Up early, but this time, yes, sadly, I go to yoga too, instead of working out.

I had taken a newbie yogi workshop with Danielle, at Tranquil Space, and it wasn’t awful. So now I’ve got the three classes for $33 pass. That’s the newbie rate of $11 per class rather than like $14 or whatever Dawn usually pays by buying the mega-pass. Teaching is Carol, assisted by the lovely Karen or something like that. It’s weird being in some pose and then suddenly feeling someone’s hands on you, pushing you down or otherwise adjusting you. I generally can tell who it is, because Carol keeps talking, so if she’s nearby and someone’s hands are on me then it’s her but if she sounds far away then it’s Karen.

I’m way up front, next to Carol, or her mat anyway, since she’s often wandering around. Down dog is not a restful position for me. I wear a basic workout sort of uniform, shorts & t-shirt, but am not especially comfortable with either, as they both tend to react to gravity a little more than I’d prefer. The shorts are particularly alarming when doing a shoulder stand, exposing more pale thigh than anyone really wants to see.

Later at ballet practice I decide that the tights and clingy shirt that I’m wearing might work better for yoga.

We go to the Saturday vigil Mass, since we’re flying out early tomorrow for Savannah. Later I screw up and don’t tape Tom Hanks on Saturday Night Live. Seems like I’m always screwing up and missing it. To wit, this Tom Hanks show is the seventeenth of the season, and the third non-repeat one in a row that I’ve missed. Although the repeats have allowed me to catch the Scarlett Johansson and Steve Martin episodes. But still.