tuesdays

[sev]

So, tuesdays.

There's two things about my tuesdays that are rather predictable: Ethan works late and I try to go to yoga in the morning. This makes for some long days. I have to get going a bit earlier so I can gather my gym stuff, walk to yoga class and arrive on time. And with Ethan not coming home 'till one or two in the morning, sometimes I forget to go to bed at anything resembling a reasonable hour.

It's a bit after eleven now, and for all that I'm bone-tired, my brain is still buzzing and I'm not sure I'll manage to get to sleep if I go to bed. There's something about having a warm sleepy sweetie in bed that makes sleep so much easier.

First things First: Yoga

Yoga this morning was enjoyable as usual. The crick that's been lodged in the right side of my neck for a few weeks has been showing signs of perhaps loosening. Or at least, I can *feel* tension there in a particular spot, now, whereas before all I could feel was pain when I tried to tilt my head to the right. This is a good thing. And Matt, the yoga teacher, enthused about how all the girls in the class were developing strong shoulders. As that's something I've been noticing in myself, it was neat to hear it verified. He's been making a point to say supportive things lately, I think; last week he noted that I seemed to have suddenly started having an easier time of things. (I have; I finally reached the strength threshold in my forearms that allows me to stay in downward-facing dog without shaking. Damn glad I quit my job; the RSI would have kept me from this.)

Gardening

Walked home and decided I needed to garden. Spent the next four hours pruning and weeding. I've decided that the reason springtime gardens inspire such poetry in gardeners is that if we talk to our plants while we're gardening, people will think we're really weird. So, some of the things I *didn't* say out loud today:

You, there. If you keep poking me, I will cut you. Ow! How come you didn't have those thorns last year?

It's a good thing we decided that we were going for a natural-look, because "cut off whatever's in the gardener's way" does not make for a very regular pattern of plants.

I don't care how sweetly you twine about the periwinkle; I'm still going to rip you out by the roots.

Yes, in moderation you are a quite attractive groundcover. If you were at all capable of moderation, that would be a relevant defense.

If you continue disintegrating, I will have to replace you with a pot that makes sense.

Rassafrassin' cheap pruning shears. I'm not accustomed to breaking metal with my bare hands.

Well, I've never killed one of *those* before. (jenmoon, I'm sorry; I have not forgotten that I promised you geraniums, but it seems that they froze this winter. Apparently they're only unkillible in California.)

Who's been nibbling on my primroses?

Look at that weird root the diameter of my pinky...wait, that's not a root, that's a *worm*!

Why, look at this patch of unplanted ground, with an irrigation hose running right through it. Shall I plant spinach? Or hot peppers? Or carrots? Or all three? (Spinach, it turns out, in that particular spot; it's in the front on the east where there's not enough sunlight for peppers and only sort of enough for carrots. I may put carrots there with the spinach anyway, though. And hot peppers south of the house, not far from the big worm, And herbs in the pots, which was really the thing that started this all; I wanted to clean the weeds out of the pots. Though now that I have, I can't sow the seeds I ordered until they *arrive*. Ship faster! I want my herb seeds and my hot lemon pepper seedlings!)

Caberet? What caberet?

Normally I plan my Tuesday evenings in advance; while I reserve the right to spend the evening immersed in video games if I get too busy or stressed, right now, since I'm mostly solitary days, I tend to want entertainment and company in the evenings. However, as I was out of town this weekend, I never got around to making plans for tonight. So 'round six this evening, I decided I wanted theater. Ten minutes of snuffling 'round the web found me CHAC Residencies- "STIFFED- Fringe Artists Getting It Up Again", a cabaret fundraiser for performers who didn't get paid when the fringe festival declared bankruptcy (or something like that).

I sat in the very front; I'd sent out email at the very last minute letting people know I'd be there, but I wasn't really expecting company (and didn't get it). So I was at a table by myself (which was neat; there was *nobody* in my peripheral vision) and I didn't have to share my pear sake with anybody. Eight pieces, including a rapid-fire reading of Dorothy Parker aphorisms, a catholic schoolgirl rap, a woman doing an extremely good impression of a somewhat smarmy male salesman in a crowded market (who began at the back of the room, and with much shouting, pointed her monologue mostly right at *me* ... that's what I get for sitting right in the middle of the front. She had *great* eyes), a percussionist who used mostly a metal folding chair (and the floor, and his own butt), a musical duo who sang, among other things, "we need more sex in the whitehouse", and four more monologues. (yes, that totals more than eight. At least two of the pieces had more than one part. And there was a raffle, but despite the small number of tickets bought, mine still didn't win any of the ten prizes.

All in all, a fine use of a free evening and a total of $16 ($10 ticket, $1 raffle ticket, $4 pear cider, and $1 tip for the cute bartender).

I am taking suggestions for what to do with my Tuesday evenings. Bonus points if it's something in cap hill or if you wanna come get me. :)