Hi-Ya!

It's official.  I'm a martial artist!  I took my first class yesterday.  In Taekwondo.  Don't f--- with me.  Because I learned how to punch, kick, jab and block.  I'm fearless.  Except I'm afraid of the situps.  Give me a mugger anyday.  Just don't make me work on my core.

I think I benefitted from my endless hours of yoga.  And watching boxing.  And psychotherapy...

And reading Shades of Grey.  Because there's an element of submissiveness.  SOG glamorizes that.  I can't buy into it, but I guess I can accept the idea, if it makes me fearless, calm, and able to leap through the air like that cute girl in Crouching Tigers, Hidden Dragons.  Or is it Hidden Tigers, Crouching Dragons?  Crouching Dragons, Hidden Tigers?  Damn.  This is worse than Men are from Venus, Women are from Mars.   Or that stupid movie - Men are like Dogs, Women are like Cats.  Can that be right?  Surely not.  Someone should make a rule that movie titles can't be more than three words long.  Forget trying to come up with some unique title for a sequel.  Stick a roman numeral behind the original title. Godfather.  Godfather II.  Godfather III.  That's it. Think of how much money that would save.  I'm sure the marketing gurus charge out the ass to come up with something catchy.  When all we want to know is where it falls in the timeline. 

Ok.  I took a muddy hike at Shelby Forest this morning.  My hiking boots fell apart (it's been a long time since I've used them.)  So between Taekwondo and hiking, I'm pooped.  Sore.  I think I'll take a hot bath.  And hope Sally doesn't wake me up before 4 in the morning...