Yesterday, I did a little microderming. This morning when I woke up, I looked in the mirror and I swear, it looked like someone beat me with a rubber hose. I think I’m still on the first part of the learning curve, but don’t think I’m giving up. Like all good tools, I just have to get the technique right. Again Friends, learn from my mistakes. Evidently, decolletage is quite delicate.
Despite my self-mutilation, I had to get to my spinning class at 8:40am. I have been meaning to blog about spinning for a while. Eventually, every woman will find themselves on a spinning bike. Not just to say we’re spinners, but because:
- Low impact cardio
- Lots of sweat production
- High Calorie Burn
- Perhaps you aren’t spinning enough at home
Normally, I am wearing my sexy Brazilian workout clothes, but if I had exposed all that bruised chest area today, somebody might have assumed I was in an abusive relationship… which I am, but I don’t want to involve the police yet. We have a new spin instructor from Germany. She looks to be in her 20′s and when she teaches, I hate that I can’t tell the difference between her “15 seconds!” and “50 seconds!”. Like all exercise instructors, she has her catch phrases (imagine these spoken with a thick female German accent):
- Ziss is NOT a Brhhhhek!
- You vill get a shoht von soon! (I assume she’s talking about rest)
- Maybe you need a leetle vahtah?!?
On top of the translating, I have to listen to her German techno disco music circa 1980. This has gotten better over the last few classes. But she always manages to play at least one song that seems interminable. Whenever it plays, I keep picturing guys named “Dieter” walking into the studio in black unitards doing modern dance moves.
Anyone who knows me, knows I used to say, “I only bike in Mexico.” This was true. Now, I bicycle everyday and I know I am better for it. I would love to bike when I’m back in the States. Google Maps tells me the distance between my home and Kroger (supermarket) is only 2 1/2 miles. Somehow though, I think biking my ass everyday to get a “basketful” of groceries in Atlanta will somehow get old.
After spin, I rushed home to prepare for Nghi’s potluck lunch. I was bringing Corn Malabari and Cheese nan. I cooked the curry myself, but I bought the nan from Priya because it’s so yummy and making Indian breads still intimidates me. I admire Nghi because despite being so young, she is fiercely independent and self-contained. She and Michael (her husband) are on such an adventure, and it is nice to see the joie de vivre they have for life.
This was just some of the offering at today’s lunch. As we settled down and sat around her low table to chat and share, I couldn’t help but think back to when I was a kid. My parents used to always have people over for dinners, drinks and games. The men would always end up in one room and the women in another with the kids just running around.
Those were such good times. Almost everyday I cook for my family with love and care. Today I shared some of my cooking with these strange women and surprisingly, it felt good. I sat around thinking how here we all are. Each one of us coming from different parts of the world sharing our food and our experiences, and yet, common in our endeavors to love through our food. Itadakimasu!
Until next time…