You’ll have to wait for the book

March 30, 2007

I am continuing to receive comments about the internet-dating-site-photo-profile-debacle, and while I appreciate the feedback, whether positive or negative, I am no longer publishing it here.

And that’s all she wrote…

Nonetheless, I will, of course, be publishing all of it in my book, now that I got my much anticipated, highly lucrative blog-into-book deal.

Or, not?

YC


Hmmm…so how ’bout those Mets?

March 30, 2007

Practiced at the shala today for the first time since Friday, Monday having been a moonday, Tuesday having been the house inspection, Wednesday having been the Living Statues production at school. Petri is there for the next week and a half while Sir takes a break. The shala feels a little different, maybe a little less intense. I mean, of course, that’s what happens when teacher is away.

I got there a half hour later than usual today because I had to pick up medication for an ear infection (mine…ouch), but somehow, I managed to get finished with my entire practice at the same time I usually do, which is to say that I got my Supta K adjustment, and I am once again able to bind my hands without jumping out of it in searing pain. That said, the ankle bind pulled my hands apart. Nothing new under the sun.

I do have to say that I was quite happy with the flow of my practice. In my head, I’m chanting the Sanskrit numbers now, thanks to the teacher training, aided and abetted by Sharath’s DVD. It really helps to push my thoughts to the outer corners of my brain. I find that my mind is filled with the counting and the breathing and not much else, or not nearly as much else as would be without the Sanskrit counting.

Backbends have gone to hell lately. I am not sure what the problem is. Is it lack of care and feeding? Or is it something else? Like the fact that I don’t much care about backbends at this point? I don’t know. I do feel bad about not caring about backbends. I feel like I SHOULD care. I just don’t. I’m too wrapped up in my portion of Primary and tying it all together in a unified flow. I think that’s okay. Of course it’s okay. I mean, what’s it all about anyway? It would still be yoga even if I only practiced Sun Salutations every day.

I had a cavity filled today and for the first time in my entire life, I requested Sweet Air, otherwise known as Nitrous Oxide. I never had any anxiety at the dentist before, and then suddenly today, I found myself really mentally uncomfortable sitting in the chair and looking up at the lights. My dentist suggested that it might be the ear infection throwing off my equilibrium, although I didn’t feel off balance today at all, and actually had the most solid Uttitha Hasta Padangushtasana that I can ever remember. But whatever. I asked for the drugs. It felt like my head was filled with cotton candy. I liked it. (Of course.)

Now, unfortunately, my mouth tastes like metal. I assume this is related to the filling, not the nitrous. Is that normal? I don’t recall every tasting metal after getting a filling. It’s quite yucky. And my ear still hurts.

Primary day tomorrow. Heh. It’s always Primary day for me.

Rinse, repeat.

YC


American "I" Tool

March 28, 2007

Guess what everybody?

I’ve decided to do a series on yoga teachers, and it’s going to be called, “Rate This Yoga Teacher”. I am going to find photos of yoga teachers on yoga studio web sites, copy them into this blog and ask you guys to rate them as teachers. Good idea, right? I mean, hell, what kind of expecation can one have when they allow their photo to be put on a yoga studio web site? As far as I am concerned, the fact that no one has done this YET is like a big sucking vacuum in the yoga blog universe.

Oh! That reminds me. While I am at it, I think I am going to take the profile photos from all of your blogs, along with some choice bits of text that I think represent who you are, and I am going to copy it to my blog in a series of posts that I think I might call, “You Should Have Thought of That Before You Put it Out There In The First Place”.

Then I am going to ask everyone who reads my blog to rate the bloggers. Hell, I might even go balls out and create a phone number to which you can text your votes, a la American Idol. The one with the most votes gets….lunch with me! Yay!!! I will honor the winner with my presence, and the winner shall be grateful and happy, and it will totally be a win-win, because you get lunch with me, and I get to score a book deal. And, worst case scenario, if the book deal doesn’t pan out, then I can always go back to my original plan, which was to get through all of Fourth Series by next February.

YC


Looking back on a decade of motherhood

March 28, 2007

Brian turned 10 today. It doesn’t make me feel old. But it makes him seem old. He is a pre-teen, although only his moodiness betrays it.

So, what is there to say about the first 10 years of childrearing? Surprisingly, not a lot. Motherhood is simply the best thing I could have ever done with my life, and these 10 years have been the most amazing, trippy, joyful, scary, industrious, eye-opening, love-filled years of my entire life. I still look at my children and wonder with awe how it is that they grew in my belly and came out looking like wholly formed, well, actually not really wholly formed, mini-humans and are now these giant, well, actually not really giant, but still, fully human size, people who have their own distinctive personalities and quirks that are entirely separate from mine and each others’. It doesn’t hurt that they look like me, especially Brian. I mean, that’s just plain old Darwinism. If our cavemen great great great to the 15th power grandparents didn’t look like their parents, perhaps said parents wouldn’t have taken such good care of them? I don’t know. I know some won’t agree with that. For heaven’s sake, I know one yogi who doesn’t believe in evolution at all. As we like to say here in America, “go figure”.

YC


Class Acts

March 28, 2007

Today, Brian’s class did a presentation of life in Colonial times (I am referring to Colonial America, of course), and it was one of the most unique and creative presentations I have ever seen. It was called “Living Statues”: each child took on a role, whether a specific person (like in Brian’s case, he was Peter Minuit, who bought the island of Manhattan from the Indians for a mere $500, current value, and, yes, that is what they were called back then, when it was widely believed that the colonies were the “West Indies”) or a general type of person (for example, blacksmith, wigmaker, schoolgirl, teacher). The children researched their roles, and each came up with a monologue filled with facts and tidbits about their character, inevitably imbuing it with their own quirks and personality.

Today, the kids stood up in a semicircle in the auditorium, each holding one hand up (as if they were making a promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God). Then they stood stock-still, like statues. The audience was invited to move around the statues and push on the hands, as if they were levers, to make the statue talk. It was incredibly impressive.

After that, I went up to Westchester for the House inspection. I LOVE this house. Pond or no pond. Forty-five minute drive into the city and all. The inspection went as well as an inspection can go, and Lewis scared off every goose on the property. The mere sight of him sent the geese flying off to the far end of the front yard, which is far enough for me. Adding his trademark bay to the mix just further made me the proud doggie mama.

When the inspection was finished, the inspector left, the owner of the house left, and finally my broker left. I stayed for a few more minutes to enjoy the tranquil beauty, and then I untied Lewis and loaded him into the car. I dropped my key on the front seat (the doors were unlocked, I made sure of that!) and went back to retrieve the long leash that I had tied to a tree root to bring it back to the car.

When I got back to the car, it was locked.

Lewis must have locked the car with his paw, and locking one door locks all the doors in my annoyingly efficient Swedish vehicle. I guess. I mean, I will never really know what happened. All I know is that suddenly, I was alone on three acres, with no phone (it was in the car) and no wallet (it was in the car). At least Lewis wasn’t in any danger. I walked out to the front of the house but realized it could be miles before I reached a pay phone. I sat down on a tree stump and realized that I was going to have to suck it up and be the freak from the city who knocks on someone’s door in the country, citing “car troubles”.

The nearest house – the one belonging to the neighbor who shares the pond – actually fronts a different street, so I had to make my way through the marshy grass (lots of snow melting still) in order to get to the neighbor’s front door, only to find that she wasn’t home. That left only one possibility: standing on the street and flagging down a car. Since I was standing on a cul de sac with maybe five houses on it, I wasn’t hopeful.

Then lo and behold, Tom the Mailman appeared. Tom the Mailman let me use his cell phone to call the police, my kids’ school (I was going to be late for pickup as a result of this brain fart) and my husband, who had the phone number for Volvo Roadside Assistance, which it turns out, we didn’t need. The police sent Tom the Cop, who kept me company as we waited for the local mechanic to come and unlock my car. The mechanic arrived only a moment after the owner of the house arrived to see a police car in her driveway. I can imagine what she was thinking, but when all was explained, she was quite nice, bringing a giant bowl of water for Lewis who was panting like nobody’s business in the back seat.

And then I drove home. And now, as I watch House, I wait for the Husband to just friggin’ return the contract to the owner so that we can buy this house. But then, why would that happen? We’re talking about a man who told me a minute ago that he is annoyed at how my getting locked out of my car inconvenienced HIM since my having called him made him thirty seconds later for a meeting than he wanted to be. Whatever.

But back to CLASS acts, House rocks, in general, and not least of all because of the contributions of fellow Ashtangini and way cool girl, Lisa E.

Speaking of television shows, if ONE more person on television says “Seriously?” I am going to throw my t.v. out the window. By which I mean, I will not throw my t.v. out the window. But, look, just STOP IT already. It’s not original. And it’s not going to catch on outside of Grey’s Anatomy.

And speaking of Grey’s Anatomy, by which I mean, not speaking of Grey’s Anatomy at all, I must use this space now to register my distaste at the notion of copying photos from internet dating sights and using them on one’s blog. No one, but no one, on Match or Nerve or JDate or WhateverDate, expects that their photo will be used for anything but for the purpose of meeting potential dates. Certainly, no one on these dating sites would ever expect their photo to be used in a “rate this guy that I might date” series of posts, particularly when it is fairly obvious that the question is not really a serious inquiry at all, but an opportunity for mockery.

I know that a lot of readers think it’s funny. But I imagine one of my sons in ten or fifteen years being plastered on the blog of someone who really isn’t all that interested in dating them so much as she is interested in earning laughs and hits on SiteMeter. And it upsets me. I don’t like it.

I’m sorry if anyone is bothered by this. But it’s how I feel.

YC


Thank you, R. Sharath

March 26, 2007

I had to miss Lori’s led class yesterday because we had to get our butts up to Westchester to do an unofficial inspection of the house with the pond (by unofficial, I mean, an engineer was not present), to check out some details about the house. There were lots of geese and lots of goose poop, by the way. But I am not deterred. There must be a way to deal with this. Anyway, it was the first day that the snow had thawed and the geese had just come back, and there had been no landscaper to clean things up.

The house is really special. Sure, it could use new doorknobs that are more my taste. It could use some tiling on the master bathroom’s shower (my master bathroom shower in my current digs is really nicely tiled with tumbled marble in a mosaic pattern; it’s surprising to see a fairly upscale house with a one-piece shower unit – no tiles at all. The bath is fabulous – a big jacuzzi. But the shower? It’s like they forgot about it.) Also, it needs one closet’s door to be changed from inside a bedroom closet to a linen closet – it’s a simple matter of changing where the door opens. And the third floor, which is an unfinished attic is just begging to be finished – it has beautiful bones, including diagonal and cross beams, a normal staircase and beautiful windows and v360 degree iews of the property. It would make a wonderful “bonus” room (not a bedroom, because a bedroom needs a change in the Certificate of Occupancy as well as the addition of a sprinkler system, I believe) – a playroom for the kids, perhaps. And the basement needs to be finished – with recreational space, including a hardwood floor for yoga…it’s a walkout basement (it opens up to the side yard), so there is a possibility it could be a yoga studio. If not, it still is worth turning into an actual room, since it is on the ground floor with a full door to the outside.

But anyway, so I missed the led practice, which was disappointing, but also good because I needed a rest since on Friday I did not only my practice but also Standing Led Class, led by one of my fellow teacher trainees. It was great. But I was tired yesterday. I think it’s going to be a tiring couple of months if I keep up at this pace – my regular practice, plus attending the classes taugh by the other teacher trainees.

Today, I couldn’t get to the shala because Brian had had a sleepover playdate, and they needed me to make them breakfast, and the Husband needed to get to the gym, and I knew that I could do my practice at home, so it was an easy decision of who should stay home. I decided to practice with my R. Sharath DVD. My concern, if any, was that it would be too fast for me to get into postures and still have five breaths left. But actually, it was quite slow paced compared to what I have become used to. I so enjoyed it! I admit though, that I did do Supta K twice, turning off the DVD for the second one, which also gave me time to schpritz myself with water for Garba P. Oh, and I turned off the DVD to do extra Surya Namaskaras, since Sharath only leads though three of each. Other than that, I followed the DVD from beginning to end, and I listened to him saying the Sanskrit numbers, and, well, I am too tired to say more than, I LOVED it. Perfect pacing, if a teeny bit slow. Minimal talk. No talk, in fact. Just the meditative breath and the numbers.

Tomorrow, back to Shala X. I think I might be ready to try a Sir adjustment in Supta K again. I feel NOTHING in my back. But if I am thinking about my back at all, I will have to “back” off. No biggie. I have a LOT of work to do in Garba Pindasana with regard to the rolling. Maybe I am having trouble with the rolling because my back is strained though? We shall see.

YC


Pond Scum

March 23, 2007

Serious question for any homeowners out there who have wetlands on their property….What do you do about the geese that like to light on ponds and lakes and streams, if said ponds, lakes and/or streams happen to be adjacent to your front yard? We are down to one remaining problem, I believe, on the YC Dream House front: what to do about the goose poop? Better yet, how to get the geese to not hang out in the front yard?

Don’t get me wrong, I love wildlife. I have pushed the move to the suburbs into a move to the country, two acre zoning and wetlands galore. But I have heard that geese can be a problem wherever there is a pond or stream.

Anyone care to enlighten me?

Oh, and yes, Anon Shala Mate, I was thinking the same thing (re. your comment on the last post. And congrts on Setu B. I am just a teeny bit jealous.)

YC