This was yesterday. Beautiful skies of crystal coolness and serenity. After a long day of tough kids I zipped the quad up to the airport and down to the water. It was bone chilling cold, but I was all bundled up and got some nice pics of myself by way of the delayed photo snapshot function on my digital camera. Don't I look like I'm about to talk to you like a small tundra creature? Like in a soft Bob Ross/John Denver style voice, "hello there little buddy, how are you today?" Man, I'm freaking bored and lonely.
But today, like I'm magically on a different continent, its really really really nuts outside, I mean its totally bananas. First off, its like 28 degrees out. Next the wind is reported as gusting to 50 mph bringing the wind chill to 12 degrees. Then if you add in the completely horizontal sideways razor blade ice rain you have yourself one hell of an afternoon.
The whole building has literally been rocking and shivering all day. Just looking at the crazy frenzy of white insanity outside has really discouraged me from walking the wopping 30 yards to my house. I went to the post office about half an hour ago and whooooo doggy, I should have not attempted that in faux fur lined crocs and khaki pants. Thank goodness I had my Canadian Goose Heli-Arctic Parka with coyote fur lined hood to act as a moving fortress as I blindly stumbled the 100 yards nearly being knocked over. Alas, no mail, again.
So now I sit here, uploading photos, waiting for my new (old) Devendra Banhart Album to download. iTunes stiffed me half the album on the download, and that is just BS, the one vice I get is new music, and now the MAN has taken that away from me.
Yoga is at 7 tonight, but the weather is ludicrous, so I don't even know if anyone is gonna come.
I wouldn't be heartbroken if they didn't. I'm pretty tired, pretty cranky, and really sore from all the lifting I've been doing.
I had one of those teacher days where even though I planned something I thought was kind of cool, the kids were totally bored. And I have this little sensor in the back of my head that says in a robotic voice,"DANGER KALE IVERSON, DANGER, YOU ARE BOOOOOOOOORING, ABORT MISSION AND STOP SUCKING A BIG ONE OR TERMINAL DAMAGE WILL FOLLOW." Then I usually switch it up on the fly, right there. Some of the greatest lessons I've ever taught have come straight from boredom induced improv and impulse.
That same robotic voice is now saying "DANGER KALE IVERSON DANGER, THIS BLOG POST IS BOOOOOOOOOORING, ABORT RAMBLING INCOHERENT PSYCHOBABBLE OR TERMINAL DAMAGE WILL FOLLOW."
Enough said internal robot, enough said. Bye friends.