Saturday is a day of routine. Far from being the recovery from a (far from regular) Big Night Out, I get up at precisely 8:25 a.m., eat a harried breakfast and do my hair in the car while on the way to Tai Chi at nine o’ clock, which we are regularly late for anyway. Gosh, I really need to get myself a life.

Anyway, from nine to about ten-fifteen I learn Tai Chi in our oddling little bunch of senior citizens and midlife crisis-ers. In general it’s kind of sucky – the Tai Chi itself isn’t bad exercise but everyone is so damn slow to pick things up and rectify problems that it’s like being in the physical equivalent of a school class full of jocks. Hang on… Except that as a rule jocks are pretty coordinated and good at physical stuff. Well, you know what I mean.

So after Tai Chi we drive to the library and MD stocks up on her weekly supply of weirdass foreign DVDs. (Yeah, I know, we go to the library on a weekly basis – you don’t need to remind me how sad that is.) A few blocks drive from the library is the market, where we buy a week’s worth of fruit and veg on sale. Usually I balk at actually joining MD and DD on this pleasant little outing (not unless there’s food involved, anyway) as having to manoeuvre a shopping trolley that doesn’t turn around strollers, snotty children and deranged Russian grandmothers invokes in me a special kind of twitchy claustrophobia that is not fun. Not fun at all. And also because all three of us are still dressed in our Tai Chi gear of head to toe black sweats – not so much samurai ninja as a freakshow of travelling mimes. And not very good ones at that.

But now is the dawning of a new era – grocery shopping has officially shifted to leisurely Friday afternoons in order to make room for intensive Tai Chi at one. Having grasped the basic concepts of Tai Chi square form that many of our happy nine o’clock campers are still struggling with, and showing a moderate amount of proficiency for the activity, Mister Master has decided to enlist me in extra training in order to go for a grading, which would mean that I would be able to truthfully say that I have completed square form. Super funky. (Even though it’s a complex form of modified martial art and you never stop learning yada yada yada but you know.) So yay! No more doddering about with the senior citizen crowd, repeating the same things that I’ve already done a million times before – and actually learning the deeper stuff instead. And then after I’ve mastered the round form I can start messing around with broadswords and staffs and shit. Even more super funky.

And as I was watching the one o’clockers do their thang with the weapons, I saw Brendan. Who has grown that rat’s tail thing at the back of his head, which I will never fathom as it is such a horrible way to ruin a perfectly good haircut. Convulses. But I am almost willing to forgive him for the follicle faux pas because oh my god that boy is built! And he knows kung fu! (There is nothing hotter than an Asian guy doing kung fu. And this is coming from a girl who doesn’t even particularly LIKE Asian guys.) So whaddaya know it, the first Asian guy I have found to be hot. So strange.

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