I'll be there, climbing up the walls

I went rock climbing today! I had a very good time. A local climbing gym will let you climb for free if it's your first visit to the gym, so I went and tried it out. I bouldered a bit and got to the top of a few easy problems. I was improving pretty quickly, so I was psyched. Unfortunately, my forarms and fingers weren't really up to the task, so I had to quit before I got this really cool orange problem where you climb to the top, then take a slide down. I'm thinking about enrolling in a climbing course and then I'd get the orange problem--and the slide!

Can you spell "Iyengar"?

I dropped into a yoga class yesterday morning. I'm going to a couple classes next week with a friend, too. I'd love it if this turned into a regular thing. We'll see.

Please revel in the glory that is my house.

My place came completely decorated. This is the wallpaper that I am privileged to view on a daily basis.

My roommate M's room

The Bathroom

My room.

I know you are jealous. It's ok. You can come visit. Unfortunately, the guest room has no wallpaper. Sorry.

There's a Coldest Day in Every Year

As you may recall, I'm training for a half marathon. In my lovely new hometown, I do not have a gym membership, so I run outside. The weather has decided to take a nasty turn from Tuesday's and Wednesday's lovely 72 degrees to a brisk 13 today. 60 degree difference in less than a week? Yeah, apparently that's the norm here. So for my run I wore layers, lots and lots of layers. My new running attire consists of the following:

• snowboarding socks
• shoes
• long underwear bottoms
• fleece pants
• a short-sleeved tech top
• a fleece top
• soft-shell
• puffy vest
• bandanna on my head (I left all my hats in my former state of residence. What was I thinking?)
• mittens
• my softshell's hood

If you counted four layers on top, you counted right. And, in my very puffy state, I had an extremely enjoyable run.

Home Sweet Home

I just moved*. I LOVE my new place. The city is a great! Here are some things I've noticed about my new hometown that amuse me.

• Everyone drives Subarus, and they generally have Obama stickers on the back.
• You can't judge gender from the back; boys have long hair and girls wear guys' clothes.
• Not having a Starbucks in hand is like not wearing shoes: people sometimes do it, but they get funny looks.
• Bikes are the second most common form of transportation (next to Subarus).
• Most people who look like hobos choose to dress that way.
• The library has a magazine called The Healthy Hippie.

The place is a dream. I have a spare room, come visit me.

*If you don't know where I moved, check my facebook page. I just don't like to post too much personal info on my blog.

"There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it's all dark."

Saturday night, my awesome friend J and I went to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, a cosmic light show. (What a name, right?) My verdict: AMAZING! First of all, I love this album. It's great. Second, the light show was really fun. We sat under a domed screen where computer generated graphics were projected. The screen seemed really big, so it was sort of like an IMAX. I'd love to go see it again. Now, J is a Pop 40s type of guy. He's had tickets to Britney Spear's April show since Thanksgiving and he can whip up a better dance party mix than anyone else I know. J had never listened to Dark Side of the Moon before. This brings up two issues. First, how could you not have heard Dark Side of the Moon before? If you haven't heard it, you REALLY should go listen to it. It's such a classic that you should listen just so you can say you have and so you can understand when people talk about it. Second, even J enjoyed the light show. If J enjoyed it, this tells you it must be pretty great. So, get a copy of the album and listen to it a few times, and then head down to your local planetarium and watch the goodness for yourself.

Please State Your Name and Number

I just discovered a pair of my pants has a blank space for me to write my name and my telephone number. What? What situation could possibly necessitate the need for my name and number written on my pants? Yes, if they got lost, it could facilitate their return, but how does a one go about losing a pair of pants? Maybe if I were hit by a car it the EMTs could identify me because my name was written on the waistband, but do EMTs routinely check pants to see if a name just-so-happens to be written on the inside? I hope I am never in a situation where the fact that my pants have my name writen on them is fortutous.

And now the really perplexing question: Do I actually write my name in them?