Yoga

There was a girl handing out leaflets at Shepherds Bush tube station the other day. Normally I swerve anyone offering free calls to Kazakhstan, paint ball bargains from a camouflaged trestle table, or 'Can I ask you a question about your hair' people. The girl was offering a free yoga session, so, in the name of the blog, I took it and had my free session tonight.
The yoga centre was on Uxbridge Road, on the top floor, above a Caribbean fast food restaurant. The room was about the same size as my bedroom i.e. big enough for a double bed and a few nicknack's. There were 7 yoga mats, 5 women, 1 German teacher and me.... The music consisted of a small speaker floating out a female voice singing a 'smooth jazz' version of Bob Marley hits.... There was less of a 'natural mystic flowing through the air', and more of a curry goat and roti .
The lesson was actually quite fun, but the Yogi did say 'its not a competition' at one point when everyone was relaxing in child's pose and I was silently counting myself down from a 2 minute plank that I set myself.... Now that I know it's possible to practice Yoga in a room the size of a postage stamp I think I will just do it in my bedroom from now on, and then I can salute the sun shining out of my competitive arse as much as I like.

Christ I'm An Idol

I was out for dinner with some pals last night when we came up with an idea for a religious reality TV show. The show would be called "CHRIST I'M AN IDOL"and the 3 judges would consist of Doubting Thomas, The Arch Bishop of Canterbury and Cliff Richard.
Everyone would get an opportunity to be resurrected if they had a Baptism of Fire and got voted off in the first round.
The follow up series would be called I'M AN ALTER BOY GET ME OUT OF HERE! Or we have working titles - IM AN ALTER BOY GET IT OUT OF ME.... and BRITONS GOT TOLERANCE. Hopefully the Sunday Times would do a nice peace on us although I must give most of the credit to 'my pals' for this show, if it takes off, as I was too busy with the spirits.

WAPPING GREAT DAY OUT

I cycled to WAPPING today to visit the most brilliant art gallery/restaurant The Wapping Project. It is absolutely the coolest place.. this outfit however, that I witnessed somewhere between London and Tower Bridges, is not.

MAN AT THE BAR

I went to my most delicious and nutritious favourite pub last night and was recognised by a guy at the bar who knew my name. I (w)racked my brain as to where on earth I might know him from.. had we snogged? or worse, shagged? If so, I couldn't remember it.. which is strange because I usually never forget a face (especially if I've sat on it). JOKE!
Anyway, he reminded me that we had met at the pub last summer... that I hadn't come in through the conventional route of a door, but had done an extreme gate vault over the wall. 'Ah yes' I said, 'I was wearing my short shorts and we talked about where you should go on holiday'. 'I don't remember what you were wearing' he said...WRONG Answer.... how could he forget these pins, does he not realise I'm an athlete? Anyway he was wearing a Rolex Explorer, I'm a sucker for a man in a nice watch. I asked if I could try it on and I fell in love.. with the watch obviously.... his girlfriend was sitting next to him all this time looking extremely tick tocked off, with a watch face like thunder. Opps.

Brazilians

If you can imagine a piece of red hot coal touching your skin, that is what it feels like to experience laser. Every red hot flash lasts a split second, but its a very very hot split second. I had my third treatment on my bikini line last night, and never need to wax, shave, cream or pluck again! As much as I miss my Iranian wax-er and some of the crazy positions she would get me in, I doubt she misses my foot smudged marks on her white walls and ceiling...
I thought there would be nothing nicer than being permanently well groomed, but now I am not sure. Whether single, sexual or in winter hibernation I thought it would be great to strip and let rip at any given moment . But its a bit like a tattoo.. its too permanent, too forever-y. What will a well groomed flangetta look like when I am 60? What if the fashion changes and the 70s bush comes back in... I'm plUCKED!! You can have a tattoo removed but this part of the Brazilian rain forest has been lost forever.

The Electric

I went to the Electric on Thursday night, to be met by girls in bunny outfits handing out chocolate vodka. All the tables had been pushed back and everyone was rocking out to some amazing old school tunes... A girl next to me at the bar ordered a Long Island Ice Tea...and the barman looked at her as though she had ordered a Sloe Comfortable Screw Against The Wall....and told her 'I'm afraid we don't make those'... I miss all those 80s cocktail names and tried to order a Slippery Nipple but got the same reaction. Bore off with Espresso Martini and Bellini we want Sex On The Beach again. Anyway I got talking to a friend of a friend, a boy called John.. turns out he is running the Berlin Marathon in September 'Me too' I said.. and we had geeky drunken chats while dancing for ages. I didn't fancy him at all, he had a Hollister t shirt on and an England sweat band around his wrist...Anyway as we were getting our coats to leave he gave me his number, insisting we should get together in Soho House Berlin 'darling'...Anyway unbeknown to me his girlfriend was absolutely screwing, like not sloe comfortable screwing but... literally stop talking to my boyfriend screwing... I told her to calm down and that me and her bloke were having innocent running chats... No Screaming Orgasms for him that night!

NOT swimming The Channel

I have had a fascination with swimming the Channel for about a year now. Its 21 miles, as the crow flies, and the average time it takes is between 10 - 20 hours. It took David Walliams 10 hours 34 minutes.. and 1 more Wiki fact.. less than 1000 people have ever completed it! There is no doubt that I would do it but for my terrifying fear of the sea, slight obstacle....When I am in the sea I have to be able to touch the ground, and any passing seaweed or dark patches of water send me into silent screaming. I've thought about hypnosis, but it will be a waste of 'going under', I get the fear that a shark is on my tail when I'm swimming lengths in a kidney shaped pool. I recently read about a guy called Dan Martin who is about to embark on a Global Triathlon, which includes swimming the Atlantic. Setting off from Nova Scotia with nothing more than his speedos, ginger beard and goggles he is going to swim 8 hours a day for about 4 months until he reaches France. He is going to wear a shark repellent anklet and won't be swimming at dawn or dusk (shark feeding time)...I don't know if Portuguese Man-of-War can kill you but now I've just seen a picture of one I know they will be joining me in the pool next time too. I'm such a WEED!