I've been hearing about Barre classes for a couple years now. On Friday, I had a chance to take a community class at Pink Barre in Buckhead. I squeezed in some time during my lunch hour, grabbed Tierra (as seen snapping a picture in the photo directly above) and felt the burn for 55 minutes straight. People said it was tough. They were right. Those little three pound weights put a hurting on my biceps after doing pushups and planks for what felt like a solid 10 minutes straight.
I didn't get up until 9am this morning. That's later than I usually get up, but not so late that I'd be running later for anything. Some days I work from home, and some days I go into the office. Today is an office day, and I usually wait for traffic to subside and make my way across town around 10. I'm a very slow mover in the morning. No matter how many cups of coffee or green tea I've had (usually just one, because too much caffeine makes me want to crawl out of my skin), I always take longer than I'd care to admit to get ready and head out the door. I don't even know why. I don't have this elaborate makeup routine - some mascara, brow powder and concealer is all it takes. I rarely wear any noteworthy outfits or "looks" - today I'm in jeans, a striped tee and flats, and my hair is usually pulled back/up in a bun. In theory, it should take me 15-20 minutes to shower and get ready, but it can take me up to an hour and a half. An hour and a half. It's worth mentioning, however, that once I'm out the door, I'm the quickest little mover I know. I have mastered running errands in the most efficient manner possible, and some days are methodically arranged in my handy-dandy date book. Starting those days is typically the problem, and that was definitely the problem today.
You know that moment you realize you might have a problem? Well, I had one of those moments this past weekend, while cleaning out my bathroom cabinet. In total, I found eight different Shea Moisture conditioners hiding around my apartment. I had even stashed a couple in a box in my linen closet. And the reason I bought so many different kinds? THE SCENTS. I usually wear my hair pulled back/up in a bun, so it's not like I need a bunch of styling products, but when I walk out the door and catch a whiff of my hair in the wind?? Uh uh, you can't tell me nothing! (In my Kanye voice).
I've had a breakthrough, though. I need not buy another hair product for the rest of the year. Now... my stash of scented candles, that's a whole different story.
This song has been on repeat, on all my music-playing devices, for the past couple weeks. It's not really a new song. I had heard it countless times before (thanks, 104.7 The Fish Atlanta), and yeah, I always liked it, but it was never really that deep for me. It's catchy, it has a positive message, and the choir comes in strong at the end for the win. There's plenty of songs out there like that, but this one just demanded to be blasted through every nearby speaker when I was alone. I just didn't get why.It's wearing out my heartThe way they disregardThis is love, this is hate...We all have a choice to make- Losing (Tenth Avenue North)
Now here I am, like three weeks later, and I'm still not tired of the track. It got to the point where I started wondering if I was harboring some deep-rooted resentment for someone in my life. Like, dang. Do I need to forgive someone from my past and don't even realize it? Am I struggling with some unresolved daddy issues I never new I had? Did a previous boo-thang mess me up more than I comprehended at the time? Why the heck is this song stirring so much feels in all my feelings? Why is "Father, give me grace to forgive them, 'cause I feel like the one losing" stuck in my head so hard?
Well I guess it's high time I show up here and write something this month. August has been here for 11 days now, and I'm just now realizing I haven't posted yet. What in the world have I been doing? I'm seriously sitting in front of the computer asking myself this question, and I can't really come up with a solid answer. Let's see... I booked a weekend trip to Panama City Beach for my friend's wedding next month. I saw some fireworks as the city of Smyrna celebrated its 102nd birthday; I also tried lamb meat for the first time that day. I started a new book (The Cuckoo's Calling). I also bought some new candles during Georgia's tax free weekend - they're the big ones and my apartment now smells like a Yankee Candle store.
On Saturday, I got the chance to bike the Silver Comet Trail. It starts in Cobb County and goes all the way to the Alabama State line which is 120 miles away. Clearly we didn't make it that far, but we did manage to ride about nine miles before starting our retreat. The views along the way were absolutely stunning, and I'm definitely bringing my camera next time, because the phone photos don't do it justice, and there will definitely be a next time because it was the most fun I've had while exercising in a long time.
I've been doing a lot of reading lately. A lot a lot. By that, I mean whenever someone calls or texts me in the evening asking what I'm doing, that answer is usually "I'm reading," and right now, I have a few books in rotation since I don't usually read one book at a time, unless it's one of those good stories I can't put down (see: here. and here). I read novels the same way people watch multiple television shows throughout the week, and then I return a stack of books to the library all at once. And then I go pick up life four more.
But this isn't really about reading, and it's not about Brody, even though he was all in my face for the photo above like it was supposed to be about him. The thing is, I started writing a book. Writing. A real-life book. I'm reiterating this for my own personal purposes, because I started on something that I never really thought I'd ever do in my life. Novels were something I enjoyed and never saw myself creating. A script or screenplay, definitely. But never a novel. You have to paint descriptions in a novel and give details that bring the story to life - out of thin air. Now, here I am trying to concoct characters, settings and a plot that'll stretch our a few hundred pages and all that jazz, and it's a daunting task.
This weekend was going to be spent on the beach, again, soaking up more sun and lounging in the sand. My friends needed to leave later on Friday than i expected, so I decided not to go and stay home lounging in my living room instead - with Brody.
I'd be a fool to turn down a $15 dollar concert, especially when the artist is as solid as Ms. Emily King. Last time she was in Atlanta, I paid a mere $25 dollars to see her and Emeli Sande at Variety Playhouse in Little Five Points, and I got more than my money's worth. I went alone, since my friend flaked at the last minute, and had a darn good time all by myself (see: gif). This time the concert was at Vinyl in Midtown, and I invited my trusted comrade, Phil, who has never left me hanging (and who also needs to update his blog...).
I mentioned this little spot a few posts ago, and I'm being to lazy to find/link that post, but it's around this site somewhere.
You can never really go wrong with a taco. At least, I can't go wrong with a taco. They're difficult to botch, and all you need is some bomb salsa verde to really set it off. That being said, I rode down the street to Taco T with extremely low expectations, and now it's the only place I'll ever want to visit for tacos. All the tortillas (corn and flour) are made fresh daily, in-house, and you can actually tell the difference. I'm a fan of crunchy tacos, and when you bite into these, the crunch is as loud as the flavor. AND, they're $1 per taco. Struggle meals are coming up in the world.