Archive for the ‘Thinking’ Category
Sunday, January 17th, 2010
I think I need to stop reading Oprah magazine. While it is a fabulous magazine for, say, super-chic working moms, 22-year old college students just end up wearing clothing that is totally age-inappropriate. Sometimes I will walk out of my bedroom all gussied up for going out and Alex will look at me and tell me that a full pantsuit with matte red lipstick is probably just a little bit sophisticated for a frat party. And then all I can do is look at him and go “BUT THIS IS WHAT OPRAH WOULD WEAR.”
So you can see where that might be a problem for me.
I read an article in this month’s Oprah Magazine about a woman who is committing the next 60 days to the Bikram Yoga Challenge. She basically goes to yoga everyday, and not just any yoga. No, that would be sane. This woman is going to HOT yoga. The studio is heated to 105 degrees or higher for optimal toxin flushing and facilitating flexibility. You basically drip sweat, and it is nasty.
I read this article, which chronicles this woman’s first 30 days of her challenge, and I made the wild, ridiculous decision to take the challenge as well. So today was Day 1, and it pretty much sucked. I’m not going to lie to you, it was hard, it smelled really bad and I came home looking like I took a swim, which is beyond gross.
I have always been a skeptic of the bullshit that surrounds yoga and meditation. “It’s so therapeutic” or “it’s so calming” or (my favorite) “Yes, you can loose weight with some sissy stretching” have always seemed like drink-the-koolaid behavior. However, as I was going through the poses something incredible happened. My constant inner voice was silent. Begrudgingly silent, like she had been hit upside the head and was stunned into an inarticulate pile of mush. And that was nice.
During the rest periods, you are supposed to lie in what is known as the “corpse pose” – on your back, silent, unmoving, just gazing up at the ceiling. What is noticed is that I felt very much alive (and beat up – maybe there’s something to this sissy stretching nonsense) in those moments. My heart was pounding, my breath was calm and the inner bitch was absent. Lying there, all I focused on was leaving the bitch out of this moment, and I did my best to take her criticisms floating around in my head and leave them in that hot, smelly room. It worked, if only for that moment, and suddenly the last 90 minutes of “toxin-flushing” was not in vain, but rather – dare I say it – therapeutic. But don’t tell my inner bitch I just said that because she thinks yoga is dumb.
Wednesday, September 30th, 2009
I pee like a pregnant lady. When Alex and I first started dating, but after we got over the too awkward to speak to each other phase, he told me that he was worried that I was knocked up because I went to the bathroom every 10 minutes or so.
However, it was still the part of our relationship where I didn’t tell him that the constant peeing came at the point in pregnancy where my stomach would blow up like a puffer fish. He would KNOW if I was pregnant at that point. But it was sweet of him to worry.
Normally, peeing all the time is nothing but mildly annoying, though a never-ending source of material for my friends to make fun of me. But, when I’m in the middle of something fun or relaxing, like a movie or a massage, my pee non-problem becomes my pee huge problem.
During movies, especially movies I’m not sure I wanted to see (*coughIngloriousBastardscough*) I tend to have to pee like a race horse. It is most certainly linked to nervous energy, but c’mon. Can’t I have normal manifestation of anxiety, like heart palpitations? I suppose the grass is always greener, but when you’re nick name in high school was “Special D, Gotsta Pee” heart murmurs are a freakin’ cake walk.
Seeing Inglorious Bastards was preceded by a week-long marathon of Quentin Tarantino movies, beginning with Pulp Fiction. No, I had not seen Pulp Fiction before that, yes I am aware that is somehow a sin. I am going to admit to you that I was afraid of seeing it. Afraid. Because you know what? Blood and guts scare me. Guns scare me. And the prospect of a human being killing another human being for money or sport makes me sick. So after a few days of psyching myself up and a few bribes from Alex (a new season of Sex and the City and the promise to watch it with me, thank you very much) I shut up and watched to damn movie. And I loved it. In fact, I am going to be Mia for Halloween, and I’m trying to convince Alex to buy a wig and a lariat tie to be Vince. Because that would be cute, RIGHT?!
Right.
After I saw a few Tarantino movies I agreed to go see Inglorious Bastards with Alex. In the hour leading up to the movie, peed no less than 10 times. And during the previews I got up and went to the bathroom and then about 15 minutes into the movie I went again. Finally, I told myself to stop being such a beezie and sit the fuck down. Once I stopped being so worried, I started to really enjoy myself. I liked the movie, I even really liked the movie. Go figure.
And while I am not totally comfortable with guns and guts and blood (so why would I want to push a baby out of my vagina?!) I can understand the value of gore in a story line.
But the gore still makes me pee.
Sunday, September 27th, 2009
I was biking to my AA meeting on Friday (another perk of moving in with Alex – the apartment is much closer to my meetings, my sponsor, and the parts of campus that I actually have classes in) and I fell off my bike.
While this is not a rare occurrence, this one was because of a real estate sign. I recently got contact lenses, which is more like saying I recently got in a war with my eyes and I feel that by poking them on a regular basis I let them know who’s boss. While it is extremely liberating to not have to wear glasses or more accurately have to remember where I put my glasses down, oh shit they’re in the restaurant, we have to go back, thank you so much, OH LOOK THEY’RE ON MY HEAD. AGAIN.
Anyway, getting used to my contacts is an… ongoing process and as such I often get slightly disoriented. So I was on my bike, not really paying attention to what was going on around me. Off in the distance, I see Dr. Phil’s face on a real estate sign. As I got closer, I was sure that it was Dr. Phil but all I could think was WHAT THE FUCK IS DR. PHIL DOING ON A REAL ESTATE SIGN? He does not sell houses. I mean, I’m sure he could, however I feel like he’s a little busy filming his awesome talk show and generally NOT being in Davis. But you never know.
When I got right up on the sign, I turned my head, still sure that it was Dr. Phil on that sign. I turned my head all the way around, Rosemary’s Baby style until I realized that I was riding directly into the bushes. They just snuck up on me like BAM bushes and then it was BAM pain and then BAM huge scratch on my shin and then BAM fuck my life. I hopped off my bike and swore profusely for a few minutes, all the while examining Dr. Phil’s real estate sign.
It turns out that it wasn’t Dr. Phil after all. But DAMN it sure looked like him.
Wednesday, September 9th, 2009
I often wonder if people Facebook stalk me. I suppose this is me being wrapped up in self-conceitedness, but I think they probably do. People stalk me, their mothers, Sara Palin, and probably the Pope, assuming that the Pope had facebook. But the Pope has no Facebook profile, I’ve looked. However, he does have an eHarmony account.
The success of Facebook is largely due to the fact that people are nosey, which is a close second to the thrill of seeing pictures of themselves on the Internet. In this new age of information, there is no need to spy on your neighbors from your window wearing a housecoat from 1974. That same housecoat can be used from the comfort of your desk. A few clicks and BAM snooping has come into the 21st century.
I always get a little thrill when I’m facebook stalking someone from my past. Ex-boyfriends are the worst. I feel like I’m doing something scandalous, and that they can somehow tell I’m looking at pictures of them and their current girlfriends. I wonder if they also know that they routinely make guest appearances in my dreams? That sounds creepy, I know. But what’s creepier is that it’s true.
It’s even worse when I’m caught stalking Alex’s family members. Just the other day Alex came up behind me while I was on his mom’s facebook profile. He gave an odd look and simply said,
“You need professional help.”
As if he didn’t know I already have that coming out of my ass.
Sunday, July 26th, 2009
Last Friday, I made a Decision. I use the capitol “D” on purpose, to stress the intense and somewhat traumatizing effects. Just like I refer to “high school” as “High School” and the “internet” as the “Internet,” this Decision is going to effect me for the rest of my life. And it is slightly traumatizing. Just like High School and the Internet.
While I am not entirely prepared to tell the Internet about this Decision per se (look at all those capitol letters!), I am prepared to discuss how my life has changed since last Friday.
First off, I have used my phone no less than 5 times EVERY day. Considering there have been months where I have talked on the phone for less than 40 minutes TOTAL (I have phone bills to prove it), this is a huge change. I also sat down and went though all of my voice mails (there were 15, 5 of which were my sister getting more and more annoyed) and replied to them all. While this is normal-person behavior, it is not something that I am good at. Doing it was both difficult and cathartic. I am now even at the point where I don’t even groan when my phone rings, and I instead look forward to seeing who I get to talk to.
I have also gone to bed 2 hours earlier than I usually go to bed, and I am working on waking up as early as possible. Since I have been known to sleep until 4 IN THE AFTERNOON, I consider this my biggest triumph/challenge.
I have also gone out with friends, called my parents, and told people IN REAL LIFE about my etsy shop. It’s like I’m a new person! I’m not so afraid anymore, and I am working on being less afraid every day. Some days are better than others, some days I still cut phone conversations short, but some days I am so unafraid I don’t even recognize myself.
It’s only been 10 days, and I can’t wait to see what happens in the next 10.
What are your recent (or not so recent) Decisions?
