Model Material?

Not exactly. But I read today that the average (if they can be called that) high-fashion designer prefers a model whose upper thighs, together, measure about 35'' around.

So, because I'm a masochist, I measured mine - 35.25''

I'm not about to change careers, but still, that made me very happy.

Potentially Disastrous Results

With the brawny member of the family in northern Michigan fishing and consistently warmer weather approaching, I was left to install my window AC unit all by myself... and let me tell you, it was not fun. I live on the sixth floor, and all I could imagine was the unit just falling, gracefully and silently to it's death on the driveway below. That would so suck.

And there were a few close calls, when the thing tipped dangerously out of the window, me still shaky from yoga with one arm trying to steady it and the other fumbling for the window itself... but after only about 15 minutes I am able to say that it is done, and done well.

I Haven't Even Taken This Year's Trip Yet..

... but I think I know where I'm going next year.

Sweden! Stockholm, then north, for the Midnight Sun.

Evolutionary Perversion?

I'm been spending some of the afternoon watching the Discovery Channel's Planet Earth series. It occurs to me that, in nature, it's often the case that the male species goes to great lengths to impress a would-be mate. It's the male peacock that displays his plume, the male bird-of-paradise who dances. In primate species, males will battle each other, the victor being he who wins mating privileges with the eligible female.

It makes sense for the female to be the chooser and for the male to meet certain standards of strength, for the longevity of the species.

In our society, though, we've perverted this: sure, some guys will maybe find themselves in a drunken bar brawl over a chick, but mostly it's the women who wear makeup and get cosmetic surgery, who style their hair and put lots of thought (and cash) into their wardrobes, mostly for the sake of being attractive to men.

Just an observation.

Sign for Faith

I had a nice Greek dinner with a friend last night, and then we realized that it would be silly to run off to yoga classes and different studios, so she just came to mine!

Apparently at her studio before class everyone is talking and laughing. My studio is all business. Purist. Serious! Mostly. And my friend J, who is a sign language interpreter, felt a little intimidated and insisted on continuing our conversation in sign language for fear of making bad first impression.

People at my studio aren't pedantic about silence. You can talk or whatever while the class before is finishing up. It's just that people don't.

It felt so good to sign... I am a little out of practice... and my yoga teacher, who is about to leave to practice in India for three months, learned that there is a sign (two, actually), for her name. Faith.

Dish

Okay, Matt, since you asked, I will provide the background to John's and my comments.

Back when I first moved to DC in 2003, a lot of us were still playing music at Nanny's in Cleveland Park. The session was on Monday nights, and it was where I met most, if not all, of my current Irish music community. The session had a few structural problems, most notably the lack of a dedicated (and paid) session 'leader' who would be responsible for enforcing basic session etiquette and generally ensuring good quality of music.

So, without the presence of a leader, the session slowly became taken over by wankers. From what I've heard, the wanker take-over began just before I started showing up, so I basically missed the Nanny's heyday, but by the time I had been in town a few months, I noticed a marked degeneration in music quality.

Unfortunately, the wanker take-over can be traced to one or two wankers. I say unfortunately because it really sucks that a few people can be responsible for the dismantling of such a cool scene.

So, most of us have abandoned the Nanny's session altogether in favor of more organized pub sessions. I'll be honest, at times the atmosphere at these sessions can be a bit staid, but that is more than made up for by the quality of music, which is consistently high.

At the McGinty's session the other week, I ended up sitting in between one of the Nanny's wankers and one other musician who used to play at Nanny's and who I don't know well but don't consider to be a wanker. Others might, but I have no problem with this guy.

So the wanker starts schmoozing in the way that makes me want to take a shower with a sandblaster to get the dirty off. He says hi to the other guy, and I become an unfortunate witness to the following exchange:

Wanker: Hi Other Guy, how have you been?
Other Guy: You're the reason I stopped going to Nanny's.
Wanker: Sorry?
Other Guy (louder): You're the reason I stopped going to Nanny's.
Wanker: Oh, is this something else I'm getting blamed for that I have nothing to do with? That seems to happen a lot.
Other Guy: If you really want to know why you get the reactions from people that you do, you should start looking in here (taps head) instead of out there (gestures to the world).
Wanker: That's really interesting. I'd love to buy you a drink sometime and talk about this.
Other Guy: No thanks, I really have nothing else to say.

Awkward for me to be sitting in the middle of this show-down! So anyway, Matt, there you have it. It's probably not as interesting as you thought it would be, just given that part of the drama is in knowing the history and personalities of the people involved. But it definitely made for some excitement.

Aside from all that, let me reassure you, pretty good tunes were had that night.

Not That I Want To

... But I guess I'll join the discussion.

Anyone with half a brain can agree to the logic that fewer guns = fewer gun crimes. But since I'm in the half of my field that practices (as opposed to theorizes), I'd like to know how to translate all this discussion into real reform.

Real reform that takes into account all kinds of things... like... how to handle the supply and demand and black market when restrictions are put into place, how to handle the increase in incarceration (and, inevitably, reentry) that comes with stricter laws, what happens to already disadvantaged communities when more people are going to jail, and what some of the social and biological causes that may predispose a person to want to use a gun to hurt another person? There must be way spot and prevent this before it even remotely gets to the point where the person obtains the firearm.

Talk is great, but as a person who deals with gun crimes every day in a city that has a ban on guns, I'd like to call on anyone who has a good idea about what to do to please, let us hear it. Because what we have isn't working, on either end of the spectrum.

Flaked Out

I had a cruel day at work today and was looking forward to a nice hard yoga class. I fell asleep after work and woke up at 5:30pm, not enough time to shake off torpor, get dressed, and hoof it to Tenleytown, but in my confused sleepy flurry, I tried. It never occurred to me to just chill out and attend the 7:15 class.

I scarfed down some whole wheat corn chips, got dressed, threw my hair into a ponytail, and ran out the door.

I took the elevator down to the basement, stepped off, and checked my watch. 5:44pm. I would be late.

I took the elevator back up to my floor and went back to my apartment. Stood in the middle of the room, felt how much I really wanted to sweat and breathe, and went back to the elevator. Stood in front of it, berating myself simultaneously for either choice - showing up late or skipping class altogether.

Realized that I was creating a far too anxiety-inducing situation for myself, returned to my apartment, took a nice hot shower, and now my only choice for the evening is whether to have tea or wine and what my next book will be.

Potentially Awkward Situation

This afternoon I was scheduled for my monthly massage. I had a few errands to run first and ended up in Tenleytown a bit early, so I decided to go to Starbucks and get a cup of tea to warm up this cold, windy, rainy day. As I was walking past a store of some kind, a few doors down from the coffee shop, a man sitting inside caught my eye. I thought for a moment that I recognized him, so when he smiled, I smiled back. Then I realized that I had just caught the eye and returned the smile of a strange man. Great.

Standing in line at Starbucks a few seconds later, I saw the guy come in, glance around, and take a seat by the window. Eeep!! I really didn't have anywhere else to go and of course he sat right by the door so I would have to walk past him to leave, so I took a seat at a small table with a free-standing sign placed strategically between he and I. In this picture, you can see the sign taking up almost the whole frame, and then the tiny shadow of his head on the wall.

I don't think the guy saw me the entire time I was sitting there and I was able to make an inconspicuous exit. Whew!

Catpix: YogaKitten

Mental Block

Lately I have been having a really hard time posting anything of substance.

Since I've been out of school I've fallen out of the habit of expressing myself through writing; it is a habit and something one must practice. I feel expressive in my thoughts and in speaking, but not in writing. So it's frustrating to try to sit and transcribe complex thoughts; I'm never happy with the outcome, no matter how often I return to my writing and revise.

Maybe my life is just routine right now. I take great satisfaction in working hard, which entails matters I cannot write about here. My personal life follows a fairly predictable pattern.

So... I don't know. How to open up?

Weekend Take Two!

Okay, I was really looking forward to last weekend but now I am really looking forward to this weekend. Being bed-ridden is not the same as getting rest, and I am still sort of worn out from fighting my awful cold.

But now I feel much better and have a three-day weekend to look forward to! The DC Government gave us Monday off for Emancipation Day. Whatever, I'll take it.

So now I am settled down to my new favorite show, the Take Home Chef (yes I am in love with Curtis) and I have a half bottle of a lovely Cotes du Rhone and a long empty weekend of shopping and yoga and naps.

Let it begin!

On The Mend

Two days of bed-rest and I am officially on the upswing. First hint: since about 1pm I've been eating non-stop. I discovered soy yogurt!

I will be back at work tomorrow and hope to be at a yoga class on Thursday. Friday for sure. It will be nice to feel back to normal for the upcoming three-day weekend.

I Need A New Body

One that's infection- and congestion-free. This cold hit me hard and fast. I felt fine all day Friday, felt fine at my yoga class, felt fine during the ten-minute walk home... and then... almost immediately upon returning home I was totally floored. I didn't even have a chance to fight it off.

I can't remember the last time I took two days in a row off of work. Well, technically I went in for an hour this morning, but I'm counting that as a day off.

Ungh... just kill me...

Weekend

Good God do I need this weekend. I'm burned out. It's going to be cold all weekend and I look forward to hours of coccooning - books, tea, blankets, thick socks, a heating pad, kittens. No people. No work. A bit of yoga. Maybe a brief foray into Adams Morgan on Saturday night to see a few friends. But in general, as little as possible. I may even shut off my computer and cell phone.

Yeah, I really need this weekend.

Hardcore (literally)!!

Somewhere near the end of the Ashtanga primary series, after we're good and sweaty and our muscles are burning and our joints have melted, comes one of the most dreaded poses: Navasana. This pose is held for five sloooow breaths, then you pull the knees into the chest - feet never touch the floor - place the hands next to the hips, and LIFT everything up. Then the legs extend into Navasana again - feet never touching the floor - for five more breaths. This is repeated five times before we move into backbends and then inversions to finish out the practice.

This evening in my class we were especially struggling with keeping straight legs in the posture. My instructor, encouraging us to relax into the posture (yeah, right) said, "If you can't keep straight legs, maybe you should take an easier class - at a different studio." On one hand, he was providing a bit of comic relief to a room full of burning muscles. On the other hand, he was inserting a thread of Ashtanga philosophy into the pose. Rigor is important.

I love it.

Metro Weirdness

So lately I have noticed a lot of people missing their Metro stops or realizing that they are on the wrong train. Unfortunately, I find this hilarious (in the most harmless possible way, of course). This happened on my train as I was heading home both yesterday and today. Could it be an ominous omen of what's to come this tourist season?

Also, a large, hand-written sign taped to the faregates caught my attention this afternoon. It said:

NOTICE - ABSOLUTELY NO STROLLERS ON THE ESCALATOR!

Heh.

That Time of Year

It's about time for my annual rant.

The weather is getting warmer and sometimes people (read: women) lose their minds a little. So let me just set a few things straight:

1. Tight clothes do not make you look thinner. In fact, tight clothes on even a very thin person can create rolls where there really aren't any, hence making you look chubbier than you are. Buy clothes that fit. Do not squeeze into the size you think you are for some deluded sense of self-worth; buy clothes that fit. Fitted and tight are not the same thing. Learn it.

2. Parasols, if pulled off properly, can be elegant and mysterious. Do not substitute a plain umbrella for a parasol in sunny weather. You look idiotic carrying an umbrella, especially one witha design, in blazing heat. I understand your wish to stay pale - SPF 45 and a cute hat should do the trick.

I am dreading the beginning of summer as people try to bind themselves into their clothes from last season that may not fit after the winter hibernation. I'm sure this rant will be continued...

Decision and Breakthrough

Today after my yoga class two of my instructors encouraged me to attend the Sunday morning Mysore class. First I will tell you what Mysore class is, then I will tell you why this is awesome!

To understand why Mysore practice is the pinnacle of Ashtanga, you should first understand one thing that makes Ashtanga different than other systems of yoga. Ashtanga is a practice involving synchronizing the breath with progressive series' of postures. A student begins with the primary series (which starts with approximately 55 postures and is taught in several chunks) and builds slowly from there. The series never changes; each Ashtanga class is the same. It happens to be one of the most physically demanding systems of yoga and the practice produces a profuse, purifying sweat that detoxifies the body and just feels really good.

The Mysore practice, named for the city in India in which the founder of Ashtanga lives, is self-led, as opposed to a normal class which is guided by the instructor. Students drop in sometime during the prescribed time, unroll their mat, and start flowing with the breath. They move at the pace of their own breath, finish at different times, and hold poses for teacher assistance if need be. This requires that the student have memorized the primary series up to their individual point, which is really important because the practice really begins to deepen only when each breath is synchronized with a movement and no energy is wasted in standing still trying to think of or be explained the next posture.

One thing I noticed in my practice tonight is that I am not very adventurous in my yoga. I have a pretty rigidly defined comfort zone (surprise surprise). So when I explained to my instructors why, for this reason, I thought Mysore to be a bit of a risk simply because of the self-led element, they both took dissenting opinions and told me that it's in Mysore that a student can really get the most focused assistance from a teacher to break through their limits because the teacher is not focused on bringing everyone out of the posture at the same time, or trying to run around adjusting every student who is holding the same pose, as they would be in a class. So the bottom line is that I'm going to Mysore on Sunday morning! The Mysore practices during the week conflict with my start time at work, so it'll be once a week for me and normal classes in the evening the rest of the time.

What I took away from all this encouragement is that they find me a dedicated student with potential to open up my practice to deeper levels given the right environment. Holla!

So that was the breakthrough. And now for the decision.

Drum roll, please....

I have decided to give up running for a while. Like, six months to start, maybe longer, in an effort to see if I can open my hips and hamstrings a little bit more. Runners are notoriously tight in this area, and even though one of my yoga instructors routinely runs 50k and 100-mile trail runs, he's just a mutant - most of the time, running and yoga don't mix if you want to be improving in either.

So we'll see how this goes...

Catpix: Cozy Natasha

Making herself at home in the lid of a shoebox.