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Archive for the ‘yoga’ Category

New American Cool Girl Finale

Tuesday, November 21st, 2017

I, more often than not, start things with no idea how I’m going to finish them.

Bravery and stupidity definitely look the same from 10000 feet.

Case in point: the beginning was parts 1 and 2. The ending is this.

New America Cool Girl: Finale

If you didn’t read those first two parts, the gist is that women pretend to be different than they are in order to catch men, because quite a bit of a normal woman’s life has been defined as gross or crazy or a thing women should keep to themselves and not bother the menfolk with.

GROUNDBREAKING. This is not the New York Times, guys, so just blllllllppppprrrrr (<- raspberry noise).

My pool of men who talk to me about how they date is a lot smaller than my pool of girlfriends. I’ve never been a woman who makes a lot of dude friends (see classic not-like-most-girls NACG move: ‘most of my friends are guys’-hair toss-cute giggle except the opposite, boys have cooties and don’t belong in my life). However, I can’t imagine that the reaction to the NACG moves is easy on the dudes involved, right? Because #spoiler, dudes are also people, cooties notwithstanding. They might like her/love her/want to see her, and not feel like they can tell her because that’s not an action that society supports for them either. They might feel like a woman who expresses a desire to be together needs to be shut down because the men around them will mock them. I don’t really know, honestly, but it seems like a possibility, right?

Some male blogger, jump in with the 21st Century American Cool Guy?

This is where I get myself into trouble. I have no solutions except to suggest every individual be more honest when they interact with someone they wanna smoosh their parts against. God knows most of us can’t do that. We lie to ourselves so much we could do it for a living, there’s no way we can become more honest with other people.

Alternately, we could put the four self actualized people who were raised in totally gender free environments in charge of all media. Well, two of them in charge of media, two of them on call at all times to answer a help line for us all to call?

Bad ending, I’m sorry. I am. I wish the answer to why shouldn’t I be a NACG and how can I stop was: because it’s not you and just do, but it’s not. The whole thing is exhausting, right? I’m going to take a 8-12 hours nap and maybe tomorrow I’ll have something? Or maybe I’ll write a review of You’re the Worst. Maybe I’ll review GPaltrow’s Goop gift recommendations like last year. We’ll find out together. (When I walked into yoga this afternoon my teacher asked how I was, then I asked how she was, and she said “in the flow of the day”. Tomorrow we’ll be in the flow of the blog. Namaste, guys.)

and, let’s go again

Wednesday, November 8th, 2017

I know, ME with the yoga ALREADY. For someone who had never tried it eighteen months ago, I’m kind of a pain in the ass about it, right? “Oh, I can’t, I have yoga.” “Oh, I’m sorry I’m wearing tights and a very visible bra at a bar, I just came from yoga.” “In yoga today we peaked with baby caterpillar and my hip did this thing …” … etc.

BUT (c’mon, you knew this was going somewhere yoga positive).

There’s two things that have come up recently that are both like duh and also like woooooaaah.

The first is more of both duh and woah, and came from one of the teachers I see at least once a week and love as a teacher but am sort of overwhelmed by as a person.

– You don’t have to be the person you were ten years ago, ten months ago, ten days ago, or even ten minutes ago. –

Yes, duh. You don’t. But also, like, lean into that a little bit? Think if it were genuinely true. If you could be honest about how you change from moment to moment, and everyone around you would roll with it because they’d be doing it too. Am I overstating this? Am I the only one who spends a fair amount of my time doing my next thing because it’s my Emma thing, that everyone knows I will do? I’m not talking about going to work – I can’t *not* go to work, but more like … I don’t even know. Like, I don’t like it when strangers touch me, so I don’t really get massages or manicures and stuff. What if that’s not even true anymore, because it’s been so long since I tried and everyone knows I don’t do it? (I don’t want to try, because … I don’t like it when strangers touch me.) What if I don’t want to be a dog person anymore? (I DO.) You get the point, though. (If there is a point in here.)

The second is just a goofy thing that never occurred to me. When I was at a yoga retreat a little more than a month ago in Moab, it happened to be during the full moon. The instructor said something along the lines of never understanding why people use New Years to check in and course correct, when there’s a new moon and a full moon every .97 months.

!!! (This is not three exclamation point information but I don’t care, I really like it.)

I just find that very personally satisfying, the idea that you do what you can for ~four weeks, check in, see how it’s going, set new goals, and just keep it going. There will be many many fewer sweeping resolutions, this way, but maybe a higher overall status.

Or I’ll quit things a lot faster knowing I can pick them up again at the next full moon. But, you know, having a positive attitude is one of the things I’m working on this moon cycle. Also running and going to yoga when I say I will (so far: check), not putting off chores (check), and not crying in traffic (we all have stretch goals).

Learn something new every day, etc etc. I love yoga. And you guys, of course.

 

return of the talkies

Sunday, November 5th, 2017

Spoiler alert … all the food I say I’m going to make in the below video? (Apple tart, turkey stew, quiche-thing, and smoothies?) I … did! I also tied a bandana around my head for awhile, Rosie the Riveter style, while I cleaned in order to motivate myself. Very exciting stuff happening over here today.

Background on the talkies: I used to do these, back when I wasn’t such a fair weather blogger. I didn’t watch them before I filmed this, but in going back over them now I’m pleased to see I managed to match the ‘look up a lot, no eye makeup, topic-less chit chat’ pattern I established back then. Hashtag neverchange, yeah?

GLAMPING

Thursday, June 29th, 2017

I always knew the Nederland in me would come out.

I just signed up for a yoga retreat.

In Moab.

In tents.

I’m not a hippie, like, overall. I work for corporate America in a BIG WAY. A big brother way, not to put too fine a point on it. I spend a lot of money on clothes. I mean, they’re mostly meant to look like they don’t cost a lot of money, but that’s probably worse, right? Is bourgeoisie the word for that? (Don’t tell me, I’m well aware. Bobo as fuck over here.) I do believe with all my heart in taking care of people who need help and giving what you have available to give, and I do have a lot of love … but I think that’s just being a democrat, right?

(I also get very cranky with a lot of people. Please see my archives for 1000 proofs. Or ask the guy I scolded at a bar on Tuesday for saying something VERY racist and then saying he couldn’t be racist because he went to school with black guys who got more girls than him. (Yes, he said pussy, but, come on, ew – there’s a time and place for that word and a bar with acquaintances is neither). SRSLY WUT.)

However. I love yoga, and I’ve been leaning really hard into self care while I’m working through some stuff. Like, beyond yoga – journaling and drinking a lot of wine. New American Cool Girl, right here.

This retreat I signed up for is women only. It’s three nights, yoga in the evening and in the morning and rock climbing and hikes to waterfalls in the middle. Made for insta, except no electricity and no reception.

Plus, there are cots and the tents have wood floors (hence the glamping). I mean, I wake up on either side of 5 am every morning already, and I love a good cactus. (Is there bad cactus? Yes. They’re the stumpy ones that animals run into accidentally. They don’t mean to hurt you, cactus, and it’s very hard for furry desert mammals to remove cactus spines, so that makes you a bad cactus.) I don’t love scorpions.

(My brother had a pet scorpion. Her name was Princess Tiffany. He’s an fantastic artist, and when Princess Tiffany died he made a huge stencil of her likeness and spray painted it in pink on the side of his Jeep. )

Princess Tiffany notwithstanding, I don’t want to find a scorpion chilling in my sleeping bag. Wood floors and cots will really facilitate that.

What I do want is a stranger assigned to my tent with me. We’ll be best friends for 48 hours at a minimum. And I want a group circle after dinner on Saturday that involves a moon deck. What is a moon deck? Your guess is as good as mine. I originally pictured a tables and umbrellas kind of deck that you watch the moon from, but it appears to be the card kind of deck. The moon part? I do not know, but damned if I won’t find out with a bunch of women I don’t know, sitting in a circle in the dessert.

Because, my inner Ned is rearing her head.