I had brunch at Nuevos Ondes, wondered around South Congress. Experimented with pancakes. Dragged my ass to ballet class, and afterwards I sat around watching the African dancing. African drums are so throbbing, demanding, and... alive. Totally different from the kinds of drumming I've heard in previous drum circles. There were 5 drummers for that one dance class. The dancers asked me to join, but I just watched for a bit. Note to self: instance of not yes and-ing life.
Something about those African drums makes me want to just jump up and dance crazily, like I do when I'm at home, and I dim the lights, turn on music and just move. Though from the bit I saw in the class, it was rather structured (though far far less so then ballet).
Now I'm home, and I've hand-made meatballs with pork, jalapeno and onions in my oven.
Caroso is curled up in my bed, where he's been most of the day.