And Now, Without Further Ado...

In light of not wanting to bore the bejesus out of people on my personal blog, I started a new blog about Yoga.  Ready?

www.omgitszen.com

I thought it was witty.

Yoga Story #158

I forgot to rely this Yoga Related story:

I headed over to the South Side this afternoon for a noon yoga class at AY at the corner of 15th and East Carson (if you're looking for a studio to start at, I TOTALLY recommend the hot yoga classes at Amazing Yoga.  These people are seriously incredible individuals.  Anyway...).

After class, I made like a classy Pittsburgh Dame and headed over to The Carson City Saloon.  While I enjoyed my blackened salmon steak and 2 glasses of water, a gentleman in his 50s started chatting me up. Still dazed and in an awesome mood from class, I obliged by making conversation.  He asked why I looked like I just got out of a pool.  I told him about Hot Yoga's benefits, etc.

A few moments later, I told him I was turning 30 in just a few months.  His eyes opened like saucers.  "You're kidding me!!  Well, I guess that yoga shit really works."

:)

A Beginner's Love Letter to Yoga

My blog today wasnt written by me. But I read this just a moment ago and honestly cried. Its exactly how i feel.

A Beginner's Love Letter to Yoga

Dear Yoga,

I know, I know, we were just on the mat together, but there's something I'd like to say before we meet again tomorrow.

We live in a world that loves to tell me what to do with my body. From parents to teachers to government to doctors and dentists and personal trainers to television to the backs of cereal boxes, for Pete's sake.

Every day, someone tells me what and what not to eat (yes to quinoa, no to ice cream - thanks for that), when and when not to eat (every two hours, only when I'm hungry), what numbers I have to know (cholesterol, blood pressure, BMI), what behavior is acceptable (don't sing on the subway), what I must buy to be attractive (that is so last year), what hours I must work to prove my worth (lots and lots), what performance I've got to give every day to be worthwhile to someone else (always on, always 100%).

None of this feels like me.

So, yoga, thanks for encouraging me to show up when it feels right, to do what feels wonderful and within my chosen limits (my choice!), to challenge myself when I care to, and to rest in Child's Pose whenever I want. Thanks for encouraging and not demanding. Thanks for the joy you give back, whether I'm with you for five minutes or an hour and a half.  

I love the way you make me laugh more easily, like myself more with every pose, and remind me with every practice of the beautiful, glowing-faced wonder I am. 

Thanks for the way you make me feel like I just swallowed sunlight. I hope we're together for as long as that sun shines,

Kristin

PS don't worry, Pens season is just around the corner. :)

Way I Entertain Myself #721: Wrong Numbers

No one has our house phone number (not even us) so when the phone rings, we automatically know its either a wrong number or a telemarketer.

Today, the phone rang.  I answered.  "Bonjour."  Silence.  "'Allo?"

"Yo man, where the fuck did you call?"

"'Allo??"

"Yo... yo where the fuck?"

"'Allo??"

"Hey.  Hey man who is this?"

"Comment allez vous?  'Allo?  Ce qui se passe??"

Click.

I hung up the phone and looked at my boyfriend.  He was staring at me.  "They won't be calling back." I said matter of factly.

boyfriend + puppy × camera = blogpost before midnight

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2 Posts 1 Day: Chairman and CEO of Cute Overload

I know, its a shock... but when something too cute for words happens, you have to blog about it.

In my earlier post, I outlined how my day started.  When I finally crawled out of bed, I took a few minutes to notice, appreciate and accept the serenity that entered my mind (especially since I have no clue where it came from).  I kissed the puppy good morning and went to smoke a cigarette on the Stoop of Contemplation.

I came back 7 minutes later to a holy mess.

I immediately vowed revenge.

The puppy was banished to the bathroom while I cleaned up after him.  20 minutes later, I entered the bathroom, stared at him and attempted to explain how much he was going to hate his life later today.

He responded by licking my shin.

Long story short (too late) he's had a bath, ate breakfast, played fetch, lost a tooth, went for a 40 minute walk and met several people whom he was absolutely ecstatic to see.  He actually leaped into some woman's arms.  The end result is a snoring pile of white fluff pictured here:

My name is Monty.  I am the Chairman and CEO of Cute Overload.

Only in My Dreams

Had a dream last night that I was on a busy, New York City style sidewalk and I was crying. Not the big Boo Hoo type crying but every time I glanced in a store window, there were tears running down my face.

No one stopped to ask if I was ok, why would they really? So I just walked and went about my business and day even though my eyes were leaking.

I woke up at 5am (because I'm just cool like that) and looked up tears/crying in my dream dictionary app (smartphones are all kinds of handy). The typical interpretion of crying in a dream is that I feel as though I'm not getting enough attention and that I should consider the emotions I was feeling during the dream.

So I went back to that dream and thought about how I felt: Lonely in big, busy world. Wished I had a friend to talk to. Sad really.

Aren't I supposed to be wonder woman in my dreams? I mean, I'm pathetic and emotional enough in real life, does it HAVE to come in my dreams too?

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