There’s a blog entry rattling around in this brain somewhere. It’s not like I’ve been doing nothing lately. The problem it that every time I sit down to write an entry, it just sounds so boring. Does the internet really want to hear about a childless couple attending a four-year old’s birthday party? It doesn’t matter that it was the coolest birthday party and that I’m really considering having my next birthday at Jump Zone (wonder if they have an age limit).
I’m also getting tired of blog entries about yoga teacher training. We spent eight hours on Sunday covering how to teach routines four and five. By the end of the evening, I was no longer hearing words. I woke up at 4 AM remembering that I left my Sonic drink Chris had brought me at dinner in the yoga studio. Then laid there for an hour worrying about leaving garbage on the floor in the studio. I want to believe that the studio owner realized this drink was mostly full and that I obviously obliviously left it behind. She did right? Right? Sure.
Well, blessedly there is only one more teacher training session left and it doesn’t happen until June. Then I do my teaching video and critic and BAM! I’m a certified yoga teacher. Then no more yoga teacher training blog entries. Instead I’ll just have to tell you about how bad my yoga mat tastes. I’m not kidding. I’ve washed it several times, but if I have to lick something off my fingers (like for instance baked Cheeto dust) after using my yoga mat, they taste just awful. Like I chewed asprin mixed with ass. Just thought I’d let the internets know about that.
Last week I ran into the owner of the dream yoga studio, the studio that is in the best location filled with wonderful and amazing people. It’s the same place where my teacher training meets and it’s such a beautiful little studio. Any way, the owner (lets call her A) tells me that I come highly recommended and that any time I want to teach at her studio, the doors are always open.
OK. Stop. Pick face up off floor. What?
Yesterday I met with A’s manager to talk about scheduling classes (notice plural) and I start May 12th. I will be teaching a general Samatva yoga class twice a week at 7:00AM on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s an all levels class meaning I’ll modify for beginners. I went ahead and set the class up this way because I don’t know what kind of students to expect at seven in the morning. I figure I’ll just go with the flow and feel of the class and not try to have every second of the class planned. They are just as excited to have me there as I am to teach there and I will be promoting myself at the May 1st Pesao Art Walk. Sort of advertisement for the class.
I will also be teaching at a studio out near Lake Hefner one night a week at 6:30 Thursdays. I’m not sure when this class starts. I’m meeting with that manager next week to finalize the details. I’m not as excited about this one because it’s a new studio and kind of a trek for me to get to, but I’m going in with an open mind and open heart.
So, that’s it. That’s the stuff I wasn’t ready to write about. It’s big and wow and a little scary. But, finally, it turns out that I am really going to be a yoga teacher. For Real. I feel full (might have something to do with the chocolate sandwich I consumed for lunch).
I have plenty of things I could blog about, but some of it I’m not ready to put down in print just yet. Things pertaining to yoga teaching are starting to roll, but I want to wait until some things are set in before actually talking about it. I am ready for Spring and all the new things that are headed my way this time around. One of those things is the return of camping season.
It’s been three years since I’ve been camping. Longer for Chris. And now that he has weekends off again, we are ready to get back into the camp groove. To help us get motivated, we set the new tent up in the backyard on Saturday (because we are children). This is the tent we wanted to buy three years ago, but couldn’t afford. It’s the first Hobitat 4 model and since REI has a new model, our tent was on clearance. Like major, Oh-My-God clearance. So now we have the tent. We have the will and the desire. We just need the time. Preferably a time when it’s not doing one of the following: tornado, storms, fire, pestilence…you get the idea.
Yesterday, I left work early so I could get the yard mowed before we turned into that house on the block. You know the house I’m talking about. Any way, Chris finally had the balls to ride his scooter to work and knowing his scooter was no longer blocking the lawn mower gave me a smidge of motivation.
Not only did I get the front yard mowed, but the back yard is done too. I don’t weed-eat. If it needs doing, I leave it to some one else. I got the yard cleaned up and mower put away and ran inside to shower (sneezing fit started about half way through the back yard). Colored my hair and was dressed all before Chris headed home from work. So, I did what any budding photographer would do. I lay in wait on our side walk for him to come home and ambush him like paparazzi.
There’s this little shop next to a Pho place in a rundown shopping strip on 23rd street. Inside this little shop there is a little old Chinese lady that makes her own tofu. She will also fry the tofu for you in two minutes and it comes in three different blends: plain, black mushroom, and lemon grass. She handed me a sack full of cubed fried black mushroom tofu and it was like getting a bag of street food. Perfect on a cool or cold day. In love.
A new ice-cream place just opened up on our side of town called Pink Swirls, where they serve live culture frozen yogurt and sushi (together at last). They have eight fruity flavors of non-fat frozen yogurt to choose from with a bazillion toppings. My favorite thing about this place is the huge variety of chopped fruits that can be added to your yogurt. They even had longan berries. Did not get a chance to try the sushi, though it looked good. We were there for dessert. But I can clearly picture summer evenings where we ride the scooters over for sushi and frozen yogurt.
Now I just need a one-stop grocery store and drinkable tap water.
I bought a new pillow while we were at IKEA on Saturday. They have their pillows categorized by how you sleep (side, back, upside down…you get the point). I hesitated over one that was for side and back sleepers because it was $20 (the Gosa Hassel). But Chris convinced me to go ahead and get it. I put it in a pillow case as soon as we got home. And when I finally laid down to go to sleep, I remember thinking that I really should roll over onto my side. But I never did. I didn’t move the entire night. Plus, I didn’t wake up with neck pain.
I was telling Robin about the new pillow on Monday and how amazed I was with the effect it has had on my sleep. Robin then asked “why is it we always do this?”. She said she’s just as guilty about hanging on to crappy lumpy pillows. And then I thought, you know, she’s right.
I felt like I needed permission from more then just Chris to buy this pillow. A pillow! Like twenty bucks was too much to spend for a good nights sleep. That is just f*#&ed up. Sleep, the most important thing we do for ourselves is not worth $20. And the biggest, most annoying thing about this is it’s taken me thirty three years to figure it out. I am telling every one of you. Go buy yourself a new pillow!
A few years ago I purchased a new alarm clock. A lot of time and effort went into the purchase of the alarm clock. It had to be just the right size and digital so that I wouldn’t have to use my brain whenever I rolled over and checked the clock to be sure I still had a few more hours left to sleep. The digital number had to be a soft blue light (not red) and it had to be easily programmed. One of the main selling features of the clock I ended up with was that I would never have to set it. If the power went out, it would re-set itself and move forward or back for Daylight savings time.
[If you haven't noticed, I'm slightly obsessed with time. I realize that this is an attachment and attachments cause suffering. I was told this really great story once about a monk picking up Swami Sivananda from the airport. She was starting to panic because the Swami was running late for a speaking engagement. But through a series of events causing the first speaker to be late, Swami Sivananda (who was never worried) was right on time. Moral: Don't stress about being late until you are actually late. And I don't...any more.]
Congress passed the Energy Policy Act in 2005 that extended daylight savings time, moving it from the first Sunday in April to the second Sunday in March (retarded). My alarm clock was built before congress passed the Energy Policy Act. Now, when the time change happens, I have to change the clock manually. But then the clock changes itself again on the real Daylight Savings time.
Sunday I woke up at 8:30 AM thinking that I had really slept in (for me) and then felt the need to rush around before meeting my mom in Stroud at 1:00. Except, except. It really wasn’t 8:30. It was 7:30. AM. SUNDAY. Now do you understand why Daylight Savings Time is stupid?
I love all kinds of music. Chris's super power is his useless knowledge of all the battles ships from SciFi stuff, but my super power is knowledge of all show tunes. I can hear a song and tell you which musical it came from and most likely know all the words. I tend to know the words to the most random songs too. Some times is scares my husband. There are a few songs out there that I CAN. NOT. STAND. Here's three of them.
