Super Stretchy Upside Down Huff Puff Pose

I am really bad at yoga.  That information will do nothing for my career as a yoga instructor, but I think it's true.  I usually think I'm really good at yoga and then I go to a yoga class and watch the instructor and realize, that's something I can never ever do.  Even now, I'm evaluating my own yoga practice, comparing myself to others, and using negative talk--all things a good little yogini should not be doing.  Hence, the being really bad at it.  Full circle.

The Olga Class
I was the first to arrive, no surprise, and I started to do my normal stretching.  Arms overhead, linked fingers, lean to one side, lean to the other, lean back, bend forward. All kinds of stretchy. I looked up to see Olga in a world class backbend.  This is her warm-up.  This is how she gears up her body to do other things.  I cannot do her warm-up.

The class filled up and the woman next to me was saying how she was sad Olga was moving to Asia because she's such a great instructor.  I agreed she was a great instructor but was not so sad about the move to Asia because the great instructor was instructing us to get into poses that really stretched me to my limit.  She also did this thing where I sat, tucked my foot in with my knee up, kept my other leg straight, and then reached my foot of the straight leg with my hands.  Then she was like, Just rock forward and stand on the foot of the bent leg.  I figured she was dizzy from all the backbending and had no idea that it was impossible to do so.  Then she did it.  I did not.  BUT when I switched legs, I did it I did it I did it! 

During the headstand portion, I did preparation for headstand, knowing full well that I was preparing for nothing. In the prep position, I watched the woman behind me. She got up into headstand in a really unstable and awkward way, she bounced off the wall next to her with her foot while the other one flailed all over the place, and then she fell forward, kicking the shade lamp catty-corner to my mat.  She landed with a loud thud, which was partially drowned out by her yelling out quite loudly, Shit!

Namaste to you too.

Olga also asked us to breathe like a dog.  I shit you not.  She was like, Breathe quick in and out like dog and then she panted.  Then everyone else in the room panted.  So then I panted.  Fun times.

The Flor Class
Flor has a way of getting my body to do things that I didn't know it could do.  She's the instructor I've had the most, and she keeps me coming back because I'm always amazed at myself.  This is not self-praise.  This is self-surprise.  During this class, we did a lot of balancing.  I can get myself into tree--with one foot pressed to the inner upper thigh of the other leg--with no problem, but I know my hips don't open (they also don't lie! ha! that's comedy), so my knee doesn't go to the side.  Flor, a very hands-on instructor, came over and kept poking at my butt cheek while lengthening my supporting leg.  "Now relax this...relax..."  We both started laughing because, as I responded, "It doesn't want to relax."  My glute was clenched so tight and nothing would make it relax, not even her poking. 

Later on, we were standing on one leg and stretching the other leg forward.  She demonstrated the posture and clearly reached one hand across her body to grab the opposite foot.  No one caught onto this but me because people were flopping all over the place, holding onto the wall, unable to grasp how to balance.  I grabbed my right foot with my left hand and started to twist very slowly to the right with my right arm to the back of the room, and Flor said, Oh look one person got it.  Heh heh heh.  Then she came over to help again, which meant I fell out of the posture because I was leaning on her.  Laughing again...until we got onto the floor.

In an attempt to open up our hips, she told us to kneel with our knees wide and feet together.  Then we walked ourselves down onto the floor and let our feet come up and knees slide out.  Holy tight closed hips.  She walked around helping everyone balance out their hips to get lower.  She told us that her teacher, a 70 something year old man, did this every day and made someone sit on his butt to make sure he got down to the floor.  I'm in my 30s and my hips were nowhere near the floor.  To get out of the posture, we slid our legs straight so that the inner thighs touched the floor.  I don't know how we all didn't simply get stuck there forever because sliding my legs back together didn't feel, hmm, what's the word...oh, yes, it didn't feel good. 

Then she did the whole headstand shoulder stand all things I hate to do segment of the class, but because she's Flor and she can get my body to do things I never dreamed of, I held shoulder stand for a few seconds longer than the nanosecond I usually do AND I got partially up into wheel, the pose that Olga uses as a warmup.  After that, she had us in seated forward bend and she came over and said to me, Yes come from the solar plexus, she touched my back with one finger, and suddenly my face was buried in my shins.  No idea how that happened.

The Joanna Class
Having recovered from my hip psuedo-surgery at the beginning of the week, I was looking forward to a great vinyasa class.  Joanna's teaching tone is much similar to mine as are her detailed instructions as to where everything should be and what everything should feel like.  It's quite soothing and I feel like a rock star because I can do the class without having to take a break.  Only this time, after the eleventh uber stretch, I suddenly felt like my legs were going to fall off and had to take child pose.  Right after that, she opened the door and fanned it back and forth a bit, which is when I realized, wow I'm probably overheated and dehydrated.  I focused on the music, which I was really enjoying (even though in some songs the guy, I'm pretty sure, was talking to God), and I jumped back into the flow, and instead of being Super Rock Star, I stopped doing the postures as if I were six feet tall and moved my legs closer together. 

Since I'd overdone it halfway through, I was waiting for savasana to come.  We began savasana-ish postures while sitting, which was odd in a good way, and then we were told to lie on our backs.  Oh, heaven.  I could have fallen asleep, but there's some sort of ticking in the studio.  There's no clock in sight, but there's the ticking of the clock, so clearing my mind became a challenge since I was thinking about Edgar Allen Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart."  The ticking!  Oh, the ticking!

I've been wearing a salonpas on and off on my left calf for about two weeks.  When I came home from Joanna's class, I felt like I needed one on my right.  Today, it's my left again.  And the next class is at 5:30.

Twelve

Imagine there is no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky

Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion, too

Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You, you may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you will join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You, you may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you will join us
And the world will live as one

Best Birthday This Year

It was my birthday.  It was the best.

To kick things off, Eddie and I went to Sip This for a reading to support one of the poets in the group I run.  The reading was a lot of fun.  Eddie actually took pictures.  It started late, and we were both wondering, What's Dd waiting for? (She's the host).  I was nibbling on Eddie's crescent when Dd started talking about my birthday being the next day.  Then everyone sang happy birthday.  Unexpected, but fun!  Then out from the kitchen came a guy with a waffle.  Oh my.  Really unexpected, but yum!  Later on, Dd told me she'd looked at my blog to see if I'd mentioned what kind of waffles I like, but then simply picked one she thought I'd like after not getting any info.

FFR: I like all waffles.

Open mic

Multitasking...and look at that waffle!

Oreos, vanilla ice cream, Belgian waffle, birthday candle

On the 7th, I awoke at 6 AM.  Eddie moved, which meant he was up (right?), so I pounced: It's my birthday!  He said, Yeay it's your birthday I'm asleep sleeping time now.  So I went to shower while he slept.  When I was out of the shower, I tidied up the kitchen while softly singing about how it was my birthday.   Eddie appeared at 6:57. I asked, Why are you awake so early?  He answered, It's your birthday!  Then he surprised me with these:

At 8 AM, we were in the car, on the road to the city.  I wanted to see Lightness Of Being, the Public Art Fund exhibit in City Hall Park.  The only trepidation arose from the knowledge that there might be a clown on a bench sleeping.  It's one of those out-there human art pieces, you know, like Tilda Swinton in a box or something.

FYI: Brooklyn Bridge is closed.  Take the Williamsburg.

A wide variety of aesthetic:

Now that's a pretty big banana

And then we did some experimenting with Eddie's camera functions:

Then we grew up and took some more pictures like this:

In our defense, he could be art. Maybe he was subbing for the scary clown.

This was the coolest by far:

And now, a montage:



After coming home from seeing all the art, we headed to the mall to collect two of my birthday freebies.  I got mascara from Sephora (the cashier's mom's birthday was the same as mine!) and a sample fragrance from Bath & Body, though that was a Facebook freebie that happened to fall on my birthday and not an actual birthday freebie, but it was free so who cares.

We came home and I began my MOOC on Coursera about Modern Poetry.  In my introduction, I told everyone it was my birthday because I'm a 12 year old.  The instructor wrote back, welcoming me to the course and wishing me a happy birthday.

Then it was time for dinner!  Eddie and I grabbed my brother and headed to Lumix to meet SMM, AF, AK, and J.  We were seated at a hibachi table.  I haven't had hibachi since I was in like 7th grade.  The chef was the most entertaining guy around. Fire in the hole--BAM--he set the grill on fire.  Then he made a volcano out of onions, made the onions steam and move while blowing a train whistle, had a doll of a boy squirt water at us, and then he flipped zucchini at us so we could catch it in our mouths.  Eddie was first up and missed every time, but that was good because he doesn't like anything green and would have spit it out.  I missed every time and one got caught in my hair.  My brother missed and one landed on AK's plate.  She missed every time and they were all over the floor.  J? Caught one!  AF caught one!  SMM caught one on the first try.  They had the advantage of seeing all of us go first, I'm pretty sure.

The food?  Delish.  I ate the soup and the salad and the two shrimp that come with the meal and Eddie's two shrimp that comes with his, and then my rice and my veggies and some of Eddie's veggies and one of my brother's shrimp and my chicken.  Ummm, the plate was a square foot jammed with food, and I ate almost all of it.  My brother even said, I don't think I've ever seen you eat that much.

Then some sort of odd hip hop techno music started booming through the restaurant.  I thought to myself, that doesn't go with their decor....but then I saw the train of servers heading to our table and a candle and then we all realized the odd hip hop techno music was a birthday song.  Eddie had mentioned briefly to the chef that it was my birthday, and from that came a free fried iced cream.  It was the size of a softball, had two blueberries next to it, a side of finely sliced apple, whipped cream, and then underneath, some orange something or other.  Omigod, I was in heaven and somehow made some room to eat half.

I rolled myself out of the restaurant and we headed to the house where T, N, AEF, C, D, and F met up with us.  We told them about our feast.  I offered them to try their hips at hula hooping because Eddie got me a set of three for my birthday.

FYI: Hula hoops come in different sizes.  Eddie and I were using one from the set, and I was really upset because I couldn't do it.  Then I realized that they were different sizes.  I picked up the small one and I went for a minute straight and he was crying from laughing because I kept screaming the whole time LOOOOK I'M DOING IT I'M DOING IT I CAN STILL DO IT OMIGOD LOOOK AT MEEEEEEEE!

No one tried to hula hoop.

Then my parents appeared.  They always make an appearance at a party.  Eddie brought out a cake with candles and people sang and I blew out the candles and cut the cake awkwardly because the cake cutter I have has the serrated edge on the wrong side.  The candles were crammed into the cake and some wax had spilled over but everyone said it was edible still, so I stopped picking it out.  Some of the spillage was due to the candles breaking when Eddie put them in the cake.  He admitted, I just shoved them down in it.  It was still pretty.

 

I didn't have any cake because I was still rolling around from dinner.  Everyone said it was yummy.  I'll take their word for it.

As far as birthdays go, this one was pretty much fantastic.  In fact, I feel younger.  Yup, that's right.  Younger.  Except for feeling like I weight 478 pounds from all the food I ate in the past few days.  Aside from that, I'm like, what 22, 23ish?  Sounds about right.

A big thank you to everyone who made my day wonderful.

Quick Fall From Fashion Grace

Today, I wore this to work.

No one raved about my skirt.  No one really said anything about anything I was wearing.  No one said they liked my hair.  No one said they liked my earrings. No one really acknowledged me as a person aside from the students who looked at me as I taught them, and even then, I was more The Professor than a human being.  A rather huge difference from yesterday's ego high.  Yup, totally peaked too soon.

Fashion Peaked Too Soon

Today, I wore this outfit to work.  Look at me, lookin all professional on the first day of the semester.

I've always loved this skirt. A friend of mine gave it to me a few years ago, but I've never worn it because it didn't fit right. I finally took it to a seamstress to get it fitted.  It went back in my closet, forgotten for two more years, until today. 

I walked into my building and BAM, someone loved my skirt.  Then I walked down the hall and OOH, someone loved my skirt.  Then I was in my office with the door wide open, and a woman knocked and asked me to call maintence because someone had "gotten sick" in the bathroom and there was "danger of slipping because it's all over the floor." Oh, and then, "ooh, what a pretty skirt."  Someone said it was so pretty and then asked if I made it.  Hahahhaha!  Well, someone made it, but not me.  Even one of my students who had not yet met me said, Hey I like that skirt. 

It was a good day for the ego.

Now I kind of wanna wear the skirt, like, all the time.  I don't mean frequently, once a week.  I mean pretty much every day.  The reaction was just overload goodness. 

However, looking ahead, I could see it quickly going from "what a great skirt" to "what a raggedy skirt."  It's got a lot of square sequins on it, and they tend to fall off, so it could go downhill pretty quickly.  I have a baggie of extras that came with the skirt, but a baggie of seamstresses did not come with it, and I don't see myself jumping into the sewing realm beginning with sequins.

Also?  I'd quickly go from "the woman with the fantastic skirt" to "the weird woman who always wears the same skirt."  No one wants that.  Whenever the week starts, I think back to the last week and figure out what I wore on what days so I don't repeat my outfits with my different classes.  Students can be brutal, so I do my best to avoid giving them ammo.  Wearing the skirt every day would give them sufficient ammo for the next decade of professor gossip lore.

The decision to wear this skirt is turning into the worst decision ever, which we all should have seen coming since we all know I make bad decisions.  You see, as much as I'd like to think of myself as a professional woman with a professional wardrobe who wears outfits like these all the time, I'm too lazy to be that person.  Plus, when the Fall really sets in, this gal ain't wearing a skirt.  Once the cold weather hits, fashion is not an option.  Walking across the wide open campus in the rain, snow, or even freezing wind calls for cords and snow boots and anything else that's warm.  I am not sewing square sequins onto my longjohns and thermals.  It's just not going to happen.

So in two weeks when I'm in jeans and sneakers, I'll just hold up this picture in class and and remind them, See?  I used to look like a real professional person.  Which is kind of like saying, See?  See what you do to me and my desire to impress you people?  And I suppose that's kind of what it's all about--making a good first impression to demand respect.  And after that, eh, if I look like a student, I look like a student.  I don't mind blending in if it means I get to pretend I'm 22.