Got it today. Or stole it, as it were in Ashtangaville. I asked for it, and got it. HATED doing that. HATED it. But I’ve been putzing around between Parsva D and Urdhva D, stretching my hip flexors and armpits, so I figured, why not do it in an official capacity. The hip flexors at least. And kind of the armpits, depending on whether I am allowed to wave my arms around a bit before putting my hands on my feet.
Anyway, the Oosh is an easy pose for me. Is it not easy for anyone? I need Laghu and Kapo. I need them. I need them in order to become the merely mediocre backbender that I know that I can truly be, rather than the piss-poor, pathetic backbender that I currently am.
To which CH said (regarding the pathetic backbender comment), “Not true. You just need to breathe.” Or something like that. I probably shouldn’t be blogging about him at all. He not keen on the blogging theeng. Or so I am told by FOC (Friend of Chris).
Anyway, that was yesterday, before Val let me do Oosh. Now, I am heading toward becoming the moderately bad backbender that I was always meant to be (rather than the horrendously bad backbender that I was and the striving, desperate backbender that I currently am).
That’s all. Must cut back on blogging time in order to spend time doing some writing that I might actually get paid for. As it is, I have made exactly 35 bucks in google ads. It’s not paying the bills. Well, actually I’m not paying the bills at all, really, unless you count the sweat equity that is the cleaning and the cooking and the gardening and the interior designing and the horticulture and the entertaining and the lunching that I don’t really enjoy but must do in order to keep our social life humming and the staying in tip top shape so that I can maintain my place in the food chain as Trophy Wife.
That was meant to be ironic.