hair of the up-dog

i've allowed the accumulation of an unfortunate amount of blog backlog, so i'm putting a couple of blog projects on hiatus.
one is my thus far unproductive attempt to put some sort of humorous spin on the hurricane aftermath. not there's anything funny about it really, but as a new orleans native i was able to make some fairly amusing observations about my parents as they settled into their newfound refugee status.

yet unblogged is the account of my adventurous, pre-hurricane weekend in atlanta. in and of itself, it was the uneventful visiting of friends, punctuated by the expected amount of drinking and silliness, and the unexpected morning of frantic parent-finding, as we realized that all of our families were in mid-evacuation by the time we dragged our hungover selves out of bed.
more surprsing was my realization that i do so many things with only marginal proficiency. one of my atlanta friends kicked off the weekend by taking me to her saturday morning power yoga class, an experience that turned out to be quite humbling. having only been exposed to butt-firming pseudo-yoga, i was totally unprepared for the pain and misery that accompanies doing actual yoga in a 90 degree room. i think the instructor (guru?) had a hard time keeping a straight face.
that night we moved on to another trendy activity... and i got my ass handed to me once again, this time by salsa dancing. let's be clear that i never pretended to be particularly skilled when it came to yoga or salsa, but i knew enough lingo to have convinced not only my friends, but apparently myself that i could at least fake it for a couple of hours.
i stand corrected.