Yesterday was very international. We had a lunch made for us by the Spanish team that was delicious. Then last night, Fleeta and I went to the free fitness thing downtown, where they had Masala Bhangra. I'd never heard of it, either, and dearly wished for Indian food once they said it, as well. We're on the same page.
Anyway, they played music like this, and it was all Indian Bollywood-style stuff, and oh my god, that was fun.
You know I've been doing Tracy Chapman like a manwoman ever since the universe said I had cankles, but this made me sore anyway.
Speaking of which, I totally caught two of my coworkers making fun of my cankle debaucle behind my back. I saw it completely by accident, but you never know who isn't your real friend, man. I didn't say a word, but I tucked it away. It's been duly noted.
Fleeta, who I heart, was an excellent person to go to anything like a bizarre Indian-dancing class, by the way. She was totally into it, as she is most things. The real classes are in Winston-Salem, where all the fun is.
Oh, I didn't mean to put in this picture of Ned seeing God, or perhaps the baseball game behind us at dinner the other night. I have to shrink the photos down to nothing before I can put them on here, because Typepad. So now I can't see then at all when I select them to upload.
Here we go. My cankles and I headed to the Chinese restaurant after, because what complements a good workout better than Chinese? I called Ned from there. "I'm getting Chinese food. I'm calling to see if you want any."
Ned paused. I knew he'd be appalled. "Chinese food is very bad for you, June," he said. "Get me some Szechuan chicken and an egg roll." I love it when Ned is bad.
We ate outside, where I'd been reading Candace Bergen's memoir. "What would you title your memoir?" Ned asked me.
"The Sun Also Annoys Me. You?"
"I don't know. Maybe just Fuck You." Which would be a hilarious title. But I mentioned it should REALLY be I Got Your Memoir, Right Here, because Ned has always got my whatever right there on a constant basis. "I got your banana, right here."
Whatever with Ned.
I have to go, but what would your memoir be? Tell all.