It's 11pm And I Would Sell My Soul For One Of These

Remember my first post ever. The days when I actually wrote about what a Hot Mess I was: disheveled hair, nose sweat and the constant riding up of the yoga tank. Maybe you don't, after all that was long before I had any followers. And now I have 6 (we can talk about this, and my other hurt feelings later). I can't imagine you read back to the early days but nevertheless and I had to reread it myself and it took me straight back to the early yoga days. Sherman was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Luckily now, as I venture into yoga in another country - okay it isn't exactly an Ashram in India, but we won't start in on Elizabeth Gilbert...again...yet - I am happy to report my Australian yoga experience was anything but embarrassing. If you don't count the wispys' that stuck out on either side of my forehead and looked like devil horns. I actually knew what the shit I was doing and even better, after leaving the class I decided I need the level up!! Um whether I still feel that way tomorrow when the pain sets in remains to be determined. I will keep you posted or maybe lie and tell you I went to the harder class anyway...It all depends on how I feel.

So yoga was good, I bought a 2 week intro pass for $25 so this next week should be jam packed with yoga because what else am I doing anyway?

I went and bought half of a roasted chicken for dinner at my favorite market in Surry Hills where the chicken costs $1 more but the guys at the register are always nice to me. Small price to pay for a smile and a bounce in my step.

Andre Agassi's book Open FINALLY came out in kindle edition so I bought it and thank god he has made me want to read again! I took a brief break after finally finishing the last chapter in E. Gilbert's prefabricated and prepaid for journey through 3 countries to find herself where she ends up finding the third love of her life - but only after finding herself first - ok sorry it's just that...well never-mind go ahead don't trust me and torture yourself anyway and read it damn it but don't say I didn't tell you so.

Open on the other-hand is genius so far. Agassi (with a little help I imagine) has mastered stream of consciousness, at least to my mind. And I am enthralled even though I know little to nothing about tennis. Hello I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet (the wig, the drugs and Brooke Shields) Well I will keep you posted on that in the unlikely event it takes a turn for the worst.

Well it's about my bedtime. There are enough denim shorts to cloth a small country sitting in this hostel right now but what can I say, these days I am looking the other way. Just don't tell the boys back home. Missing you and polo shirts.

PS Any thoughts on the wispys', headbands won't stay in my freakishly small head - we've discussed this before - and they are too short for bobby pins and I don't do hairspray. Oh to be a Hot Mess!!