Two words: Bikram Yoga

Seriously, its so friekin’ hot I feel like I should be practicing my Warrior position or getting into Downward Dog. Granted, I wouldn’t normally be wearing a bathing suit top or rocking out to Youth Group at yoga, but otherwise, yep, same thing.

I was quite premonitionally astute in my prediction that it would be a long day – oh, it was, and there was not a drop of alcohol involved. (No, really! I promise!) We saw some fan-fucking-tastic sets: Kanye West rocked it with a little 80’s throwback “Take On Me” action, Franz Ferdinand gave a typically contageously energetic show, I Sigar Ros gave me chills and nearly brought me to tears with their last song (the strings were phenomenal) and my pal rocked Depeche Mode so hard I thought he was going to wet his pants in pure glee. All in all, despite the aching ankle and majorly f-d up lower back, it was unprecedented.

Today’s just begun but already I’m hotter, tanner, and less clothed then I was all of yesterday. That clearly means one thing: time for a beer.