Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Shopping - I am out of practice.

It's been a good long while, but today I was back in the saddle - no not on a horse or anything else that dirty little minds might run to, just back in the arms of the rarefied atmosphere of Robina Shopping Centre, where on a non school holiday, nearly winter, Wednesday, the push and shovel was a distant memory and the knees were given a damn fine workout.

Strangely enough, Darren the Yoga guru, asked me on Monday what exercise I did, and after I finished laughing up a lung, I told him I did NOTHING! and then inelegantly pirouetted to further emphasise my point. He asked incredulously, 'What You don't even WALK?'

So here I sit feeling very self satisfied after more than 4 hours of strolling and stopping and dodging and the odd little scuttle.

That means I exercised today. Good on me!!

The shopping was a bit of a failure as I got nothing on my very short list and stuff that wasn't on my list made the basket.

I went looking for some heated cup curling things and came up completely empty, so instead I managed product research of all things heated and curling. Who knew so many bits and bobs had been invented. And as the list of possibilities grew along with the dollars, I truly began to lament the impulsive act a few years ago which saw me chuck away my heated curling sticks which I had had forever and was comfortable with, just because I thought the electrics were probably dodgy.

You can curl your hair for anything from about 50 bucks but I reckon that the heat control on the cheapies might well see me sitting with hanks of burnt off hair on the floor and red welts on my scalp. Of course I could be wrong, but I lack the courage to buy one and stick my locks into it. Then there was a pricey bit of kit that sort of sucked your hair into oblivion and released on the beep beep beeps to produce some curls. I had a go on this one and the synthetic head hair got too hot for me to feel good about using it on my own. The demonstrator girl said she would happily do my hair for me, but as it is so abused and destroyed, I figured that I could hardly let her run the very real risk of breaking it all off and sending me out with a possible mowhawk, or worse, completely bald.

So I arrived home with my straight hair and a lot of info to consider and a swelled head knowing that my swanning around counted as exercise. 

It's not a bad way to get a workout.

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