Friday, July 30, 2010

The Fail - A New Yoga Pose

I love a good diet. Especially a fad diet. As a matter of fact, every Monday, I start a new diet. Usually it’s something like no more soda (fail), no more thai food (fail), no more fast food (double fail), no more wine (you get the picture). If you want to feel like the prize for failblog.com, you should join my diet train. At any rate, at least I keep trying. My latest is a new and improved combo diet! I work out daily but am unable to run right now because of my shin splints. In an attempt to stay in shape, I’ve rejoined a Masters Swim team (master. That’s right. And don’t you forget it) and I’ve also joined a yoga program, so combine that with eating healthy, then I should be ready to play dirty jenga in no time. After a slightly uncomfortable hot yoga sesh that included my boss taking off his shirt, I got wind of a $40 for 40 days program. Basically, it’s unlimited hot yoga for 40 days. Basically, it’s intense. Basically, I’m probably going to die. But at least I will look good in that coffin! Holllaaa!

Now, yoga and I don’t really mix. Swimming comes naturally to me, yoga does not. Not to mention that the last time I tried a hot yoga package, I passed out. On my mat. And woke up very confused. For starters, I have a problem with meditation. Anyone who cannot sit still would have a problem with meditation. I have broken hand bones from being told to sit on my hands my ENTIRE childhood because I couldn’t sit still (wait, does that mean I have a large hiney mo that I broke my hand bones? But, I digress). Secondly, I have a problem not laughing when people don’t just say, but MOAN things like “ohm” and they breathe REALLY loudly, especially when they start taking their clothes off as the room gets hotter. I also have a hard time really listening to anyone who is probably baked out of their head telling me how to contort myself into positions that I’ve never seen. But, for 40 bucks, why not give it a go. As I’ve said, combined with swimming, I should be fit as a fiddle when my 40 days is up.

So far, I’ve had one teacher say to me “be strong, like a bolt of lightning” when I went from downward dog to dog on his hind knees panting for more water and a scratch behind the ears. The man literally picked my hips back up and repositioned me so I was in downward dog with a knee bent behind me. Awkward, no? And, since when is a bolt of lightning strong? A clap of thunder is loud and I guess could be considered strong, but a bolt of lightning is hot and zig zaggy and definitely not downward dogesque. This morning, my teacher announced that the goal was to “be in this breath. Right here. Right now. And to stay in this breath.” Well, that sounds like rainbows and butterflies and all that other hippie dippie crap, BUT, I’m not sure I want STAY in THAT breath. I’d like to keep breathing because that means I haven’t died from yoga yet. Now, while staying in THAT breath, right then and right there, we flowed (I can’t believe I’m talking like this) into crow. Above is a pic of what crow SHOULD look like. I am about 99.9% positive it is safe to say that I don’t look like that. I’m holding my breath for the teacher to come put me in this position himself. Oh wait, I can’t not breathe in yoga. You’re not supposed to stay in the last breath. Only in this breath. Right here. Right now. I feel like I definitely don’t have issues staying in this pained muscle, right here, right now. I AM SO SORE IN NOOKS AND CRANNIES I KNEW NOTHING OF.

At least I’m not in THIS yoga class. Check out the dude in the speedo. So many things to discuss here. Perhaps my next commentary should be on body hair. Because THIS is ENTIRELY unacceptable. i'd like to add a period for emphasis.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Red Love Bunny

Not to brag, but I know I’m awesome (I mean, duh. I AM merdeezy after all). I was having a random day, and who are we kidding, the random days happen more often than not. But I decided on this particular random day to take a personality test. I chose to do the color code personality test because “it is based on human motivation rather than human behaviors…you only have one core motive or ‘color code,’ you were born with your core personality color intact, all colors are of equal importance and all colors are neither good nor bad.” YESSS! This means I have been this awesome my ENTIRE life. And NO ONE can change it. Hollaaa!

So, I take the test and basically, I have to choose words that describe me as a child. Things that make no sense why they are in a group together. Arrogrant, indecisive, perfectionist, a poor follow-through. Peaceful, carefree, decisive, loyal. Self-Critical, bossy, unfocused, avoids conflict. And the list goes on. After a series of 30 “Strengths and Limitations,” I moved on to “Situations” where I was asked how, as I child, I reacted in certain sitches. As a child, was I happy, playful, obnoxious, confident, determined, demanding, well-behaved, caring, depressed, quiet, easy-going, lazy. Was I most likely known for being opinionated, determined, bossy, compassionate, honest, unforgiving, kind, pleasant, unmotivated, charismatic, positive, undisciplined. After 15 of these type of questions, boom, I was given my color code.

Now, I don’t know much about myself as a child (other than being fabulous even as a tike), but I DO know that when I was in Pre-K, (so that’s like 4 years old), the teachers told my mom I was never going to have any friends because I was bossy. Sheesh! Personally I think they are the ones with the problem. They were clearly jealous of me and that’s why they talked trash about me to my mother. She is loyal to me so she told me (and no, it wasn’t as a way to tell me so when I was crying because everyone was mean to me and said I was bossy and couldn’t come to their birthday parties). Jerks. At any rate, I am a RED. Now, before you go getting all excited thinking this means I am ON FIRE and a VAT OF HOT LOVE, let me tell you more about the red color.


1. Reds like to have their own way, they like to be in the driver’s seat and are willing to pay the price to be in the leadership role (I’d agree. But, in the defense of all reds, who doesn’t want their own way? I have NEVER met someone who has said that someone else’s way is really a much better way than their own).
2. Reds put up a fight against being forced to do anything that doesn’t interest them. (but why would anyone, at the end of the day, be complacent enough to do something that doesn’t interest them? Especially since we all secretly want our own way).
3. Reds like to be right (duh. I have no argument for this and I cannot help it that I am right. No less than 100% of the time).
4. Reds get happy when they take home the prize (I guess THIS explains my love of sercies and freebies?)
5. Reds tend to be selfish. (I completely disagree. Self motivated, maybe, but NOT selfish).
6. Reds are uncomfortable with feelings and emotions and see this as a weakness in others. (this is probably true. I have enough emotions for you and me, so you don’t need your own).
7. Reds can be cheap (hollaaaa!)
8. Reds need to appear knowledgeable (if I weren’t always right, I wouldn’t appear knowledgeable, and then this wouldn’t be an issue)
9. Reds are highly protective. (this is loyalty. like a fox).
10. Reds are turned on (now we’re talkin) by: being competent, demanding attention and respect, being direct and brief, presenting issues in a logical manner, and being supported in their leadership…(alright, not gonna lie. This is pretty dead on. Do NOT even attempt to date me if you are not competent and if you are illogical. On that note, you need to be rational too. And support the fact that I AM THE LEADER!)
11. Reds are turned off by: (many, many things and for some reason, douche bags weren’t on this list): embarrassing them in front of others, arguing from an emotional point of give, being slow or indecisive, taking arguments personally, waiting for them to solicit your opinion. (ok this is even more dead on then my turn ons. Do NOT attempt to date me if you are emotional, irrational, slow in the head, unable to be a man and make decisions, if you get your feelings hurt of if you can’t be a man and tell me what you think without me asking you. Actually, don’t attempt to date me if you aren’t a man).


What have I learned you may ask? Well, not that much. All of the above are things I already know about myself. And accept about myself. And I think all of you need to accept about myself. This does however explain why my parents started calling me boss it all. It’s a cross between a boss and a know it all. Now, be a man and deal with it! because I.am.a.hot.vat.of.red.burning.love.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Some Pillow Talk

I had a friend who went on a date with an odd duck. He wasn’t really her type (ok, so really, he just wasn’t my type for her, but unless I pick them out, they won’t be) and he was foreign. Now, I will admit, dating a foreigner has its perks. You get to experience a different culture. Sometimes, they have an exotic accent. The best part of an exotic accent is when they take you to dinner and order things like “surf and turf.” Try it out loud. Say surf and turf with an accent. Bet you’ll start saying it to yourself when you can’t think of anything else to talk to yourself about. Foreigners also have a perfectly good excuse for wearing speedos and man purses. So, that’s false. Unless you’re an Olympic swimmer swimming IN THE OLYMPICS, there is NO excuse for wearing a speedo. No one wants to see all that. anyway, one night, this odd duck gave my friend a pillow. Yes. You heard. A pillow. A big, plump, velvety pillow with sequins and tassels.

1. Pillows are weird. I don’t want a pillow from anyone but myself. Or I at least want to purchase it on my own so I know where it came from.
2. There’s no tellin how old this pillow is. But I don’t want a pillow as a gift. What if it has bed bugs?
3. I definitely don’t want a velvety pillow with tassels. This is 2010, not 1967. Besides, velvet looks soft but it’s not really THAT soft against your face (or anything else. I’m not dumb. I know pillows can be used for many things).
4. Am I supposed to put this pillow out, in case my beau stops by unexpectedly and then wonders why I don’t have his ugly pillow out for all the world to see?
5. If I don’t put this ugly pillow out, or use it behind my back in the car, then does that mean I don’t appreciate my beau or his thoughtfulness?
6. Is it really the thought that counts when it comes to a PILLOW?

A token of his affection or just a weird gift from a weird boy? I’m not sure but I think this pillow is going to cause too many problems. They better break up. Especially since he isn’t my type.