I went to yoga this morning and the teacher said one of the students was forbidden by her husband to mention yoga after she had been going for about 2 months. He was so tired of her talking about it. I can understand because once you start going, it feels so good that you want everyone to know about it and benefit from it. I've done yoga before, but Bikram Yoga is quite different for me. When the husband asks his wife where she's going, she tells him, "To the Y" =). The teacher told us to just imagine the person we want to join the class in the room on a mat next to us.

My stomach feels squishy today...I want it to be firm and toned. Some of those teachers make me smile. One teacher said, "Smile, it's just yoga" - that was funny to me...it's just yoga. Don't take things too seriously and don't make things too difficult. Ok.

At one time, I liked to imagine myself as a writer. Having a house somewhere with a beautiful view of the ocean or woods - somewhere peaceful where I would spend mornings with coffee and writing. I haven't thought about that in a long time. But I still want to write. Everyone has a story to tell. I wish I knew my dad's story. I feel like I want to write it down, but it would take some digging around to uncover it. He wasn't the kind of man to talk about himself much. Or maybe I should just try to do a fictional version about him...never really tried that before...

"I'm sorry...I love you." Was that the first time she was hearing those words from his lips? He got up and hugged her tightly. She definitely didn't remember ever being hugged like that from him...ever. That's the moment her relationship with her father began to change.