First I have to ask for everyone's forgiveness that the title of this blog is very similar in style to a previous post. However, after you read this you will understand why I had to do it.
It was a wonderful and hectic Saturday. I woke up excited about the yoga/martial arts class roomie signed us up for. As often happens in Boston, we got slightly lost, drove around the very long way when we could just have gone straight, but we made it to our very first boabom class. I know that everyone is wondering what the hell this is. And, the only way I can describe it is part relaxation and meditation, yoga, and martial arts. It was awesome. It took a lot of concentration and focus which doesn't come naturally to me. We loved it, and are going to sign up for a month-long course. Watch out, Boston! Anyone tries to mess with me, I'll boabom their ass! Oh - and if you're interested in learning more about this form of whatever it is, this is the only boabom course offered in North America. Wicked sick, huh?
Last week was swing. This week was salsa. I have to tell you that as I sit here in bed and write this post, I have the worst blisters on my feet. I haven't sat down all day (in between boabom and salsa I kind of had a date) and now physically cannot walk. Word to everyone wanting to try salsa dancing for 4 hours straight: don't wear heels the entire time. It doesn't feel good at the end. Trust me. They teach us the beginner stuff when we get there, and then set us free. Right away I saw him - a very hot guy working his way across the dance floor. I couldn't stop watching him. I knew I needed to dance with this guy and get to know him a little better. A few dances (and some damaged feet) later, he asks me to dance. "Um, yeah, baby, I'll dance with you" (don't worry, I wasn't THAT obvious)! He opens his mouth. He's got an accent. I found a foreign one. What good luck I was having! Cute, has rhythm, and an accent! Jackpot! He's from Croatia. And he's funny. I think I'm in love (a little drama here for added storytelling effect). We dance to something like 7 songs, and then part ways. But I know I need to cross paths with this hottie again. Later in the night we reconnect. It's hot. We're salsa-ing. It was a good time. I didn't even care that my feet hurt. Then we went outside for air (this was not just an excuse to hang out with this guy - it was like 100 degrees in there!) I'm gonna skip a few details here, but say that he invited me home. Obviously, judging by the fact that it's 3:00 am when I'm writing this post, I did not go. When I went to leave, I asked him if he wanted to grab coffee sometime, and he said no. Ouch. At least I found that out BEFORE I went home with him, huh?
Lesson learned: stay away from smooth-talking Croatian men. They have one thing on their mind. The good thing is, I think this only takes out like 3 men in the whole Boston area. I look forward to sacrificing myself for all the ladies out there - I am sure I will have plenty of opportunities to weed through the remaining douche bags. Just keep checking back. At the rate I'm going, few groups will be left with any credibility. We already know how I feel about drummers....
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