Stalkarazzi

When Donna and I were at the band's/our hotel during concert weekend, JBJ's chiropractor and the chiro's significant other were at the pool just below our balcony. (No, I had no idea who the guy was. D is the fangirl and has the lowdown on all that stuff.) Well, next to the chiro was a guy who looked an awful lot like JBJ, with a woman who looked exactly like Mrs. BJ. (*cough* And no, I don't know the Mrs. either...)

So I was assigned to nonchalantly lean on the railing while D got her fancy camera and ducked behind me to zoom in to see if it was him. She couldn't tell for certain. Later he put on a baseball cap, which was evidently a sign that it might be him. Still, she couldn't decide.

Then last week D directed me to some photos that turned up of him wearing those same shorts and a ball cap. From the pics, we knew it was him at the pool that day. Too bad, because I think she deleted her pix. Oops.

Speaking of D, she got me on Twitter and now she's not even following me. As my little kindergarten friend would say... "WHAT THE...?!" That's alright, because I do way more reading than writing over there.

And a cardio kickboxing lesson for your Tuesday morning: When I started a while back, I hit myself in the chin a couple of times doing upper cuts- a common hazard for beginners. I haven't made any painful mistakes since then, until yesterday. I was doing a punch/cross combo, and on the "cross" portion, I accidentally grabbed some of my hair in my fist and then punched my arm out about two feet at breakneck speed. I'm thinking ponytail from here on out.