I listened to “Suavemente” three times before leaving for work yesterday morning. Even did a little merengue down the hall when I went to grab my shoes and my knitting. *Love* to move to that song. I tried to get a translation of the lyrics for you and quickly decided that it’s probably a good thing that I don’t speak Spanish. But maybe I should have been suspicious at the pairing of the few lyrics I could understand [“kiss me, gently”] with such a lively beat. I watched a second video, with a different singer, when I got home last night, and I think maybe the racy lyrics go with *that* version. Bleah! Bleah!bleah!bleah! I needed to go rinse my eyes out with something.
It’s like “Lady Marmalade”, which had a resurgence in popularity because of Moulin Rouge. I get a little cranky when they play it at our dances because yes, it is great to dance to, but I have enough French to know that she is not inviting us to play badminton with her.
Or “Who Let the Dogs Out”, which my girls assure me has nothing to do with dogs. I guess I am blowing my street cred here.
I read an interesting article yesterday. And this one. Hubbies: if you’re nearing retirement age, don’t shoot your wife in the foot financially. [Or wives, if you are the primary breadwinner.]
Firstborn has dibsed the quilt rack and the boudoir bench. Maybe I can persuade her to take them off my hands this weekend? 1BDH is going to bring home one of those blade thingies from his office so we can finally scrape the beauty consultant sticker off Lorelai’s rear window. It’s one of those things that I don’t think about until something on my face itches or I do something thoughtless while driving. I don’t want people to think, I’ll never buy X because that one lady with the sticker on her car braked suddenly.
I love my water aerobics class, and I am so thankful that my toes have healed up so I can go. The teacher took all the medical information that I gave her and wrote out a customized program and measured me all over like she was going to slipcover me. They measure every six weeks. I am already starting to feel greater range of motion in my shoulders and traps. And my back is beginning to loosen up.
Maybe another half inch of knitting yesterday; not enough to justify dragging out the camera. I think there will be much more progress when I go to bed tonight: no aerobics until tomorrow night, and this will be the only evening this week that I am home.
[And I want to shoehorn gardening and redecorating and someday a boyfriend into this schedule? Am I nuts?]