Look, Ma! This Isn't a Complete Waste of My Time Like You Said!*

Look, an ad! No, scroll down. There, on the right. Click on it for porn! Just kidding. It'll take you to some info about yoga.

Don't hate me. I've spent roughly a million hours on this site so when someone said, would you like money? I said, "HELLZ YEAH!"

Make it rain, biotch! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Wait, make it stop! This hurts!

So that you can feel like I have some integrity I will say that I wouldn't have agreed had the ad content been contrary to the site's principals, but really, I've pretty well steered clear of any principals here. I guess don't torture little animals. Or people, I guess, but really I'm more concerned about the little animals (messed up, isn't it?). So, yeah, I can definitely say that if the ad were touting the benefits of animal torture I would have said no.

Probably. I mean, we don't really know what we would do unless we are tested, right?

So the secret message to Tyson is: Make me a an offer. But it's gotta be big, 'cause there are moral grounds here.

*Actually, my Ma is unreasonably supportive.

Loving Ustrasana

I love it when the teachers say the sanskrit names for yoga poses. I could pretend it's because I enjoy the connection with yoga's long history but that's not it at all. It's because when we get ready to do camel pose teachers say, "Ustrasana." Which sounds to me like, "Ultra Asana."* Which it is, really. But the vision in my head is:

That's right. When the teacher says, "ustrasana," I am Voltron.

Not one lion either, the WHOLE. DAMN. THING.

Why is Voltron my vision of "ULTRA"? Maybe it's because when I was younger and staying overnight in a hospital a man made me come out of my oxygen tent so he could pray for my soul. I was bewildered at the time, but later thought it was a sweet gesture to help an ill little girl.

In my adulthood, my mom confided that the man was trying to save my soul because she was letting me watch Voltron.

My mom is awesome for letting that man pray for me and then still refusing to change the channel. I guess my reaction is an unnatural affinity for the satan-inducing show. Probably not the effect the man was going for.

*Also, in my head, the teacher's voice turns metallic and super growly. Like a Scandinavian death-metal singer.

Go to Yoga

We have all had those days. I am too tired to go to yoga. I am too depressed. I just can't find the time. After a million (not really) zombie yoga classes in a row I can honestly say that despite the lack of sleep, I am better off having gone. I just did a class today despite wicked cramps all day. The only time I haven't felt mildly nauseous in the last 48 hours was in the hot room. 

Granted, the tired, nauseous, cranky days are not all going to result in stellar yoga classes. So here is a chart to help guide you to your best choice in your current situation. 

You may notice a pattern. Follow the chart as if you don't.

If you are sick the hot room will help you. It clears congestion. It raises your internal body temperature (just like a fever would) to kill your little ickies. It boosts your immune system and gives you a rush of oxygen to help your body knock out whatever is trying to wreck havoc on your innards. You can get a lot of those benefits in savasana, so don't kill yourself, do the breathing and see where it goes from there. If it goes to the floor, so be it.

Are you tired? I've heard it said a million times, "yoga gives you energy." While I'm not 100% willing to jump on the 'yoga is magic' bandwagon to make that claim, I am sure that I feel much better after a class. The more tired you are the less you can focus on what needs to get done so you can do it and get the eff to bed. Taking the time out to clear your head, regroup and then re-tackle your day will lift that fog. You know what else lifts the fog? A hot 1.5 hour nap. If you need the nap, go ahead, take it, but get yourself in the room to see if that's really what you want first. Most likely, the boost of oxygen from the initial breathing exercise will jazz you up enough to keep you going.

Stressed, depressed? Exercise and meditation have been independently proven to alleviate symptoms of stress and depression in both the short-term and (even more importantly) the long term. Yoga as a combination of meditation and exercise is powerful medicine.

So yes, I mean it. Get your butt in the door. It is HARD to get up and go, so if you want to wallow, go ahead, there is value in that too. But when you've had enough wallowing and you want to fix it. GO TO YOGA.

Pizza

It has been brought to my attention that not everyone is familiar with the regional bastardizations of pizza America has created since stealing the dish from the Italians.* As a chick in Chicago, I would like to remedy this situation by the following chart:

Please note that I stole the GF/Vegan idea from my friend, Nick. He makes a good case, no?

*Originally pizza was not really a dish you looked forward to. It was like stew. You made it to get rid of all the leftover crap from previous dinners so as not to waste food. Crust, sauce, yesterday's meatloaf,** the salad remnants from the night before, crud, these peppers look like they're gonna go... and cheese to hold it all on there!

** Be aware that this part is made-up. Leftovers didn't exist in plenty the way they do now, there were no refrigerators. I imagine if you had some peperoni but not enough to really feed someone for a meal, that would go on there but that sounds way too appetizing to get my point across. The truth is, olden-day leftovers must have rocked. 

Cat Chart

We recently moved to a home with CLOSETS. And CUPBOARDS, which are just mini-closets. We've been here three months and I am still finding new cubbies. Sometimes I put a single box of mac n' cheese in a cupboard just to have something in it. I don't know how many boxes I have hidden this way. I will live this winter like a squirrel, my whole kitchen being a treasure-trove of stashed food surprises.

Sidney, our cat, however, is not so excited by the new space. Or rather, the placement of her litter box in the new space. The bathroom seems a fine place for urination to me. In fact, it was designed for urination. A whole room dedicated to keeping unsanitary things in an easily-disinfected space! Genius!

The cat does not think so. She would rather pee in my office. She communicated this to me by doing so before there was a litter box here. Thankfully, I figured out (after about the third puddle formed under my desk) that this is her preferred urination station and bought a new litter box for just behind my desk. I am not happy about this, but I am a heck of a lot less unhappy than I was a week ago when she was trying to tell her stupid human where she wanted her furniture.

The last week of watching my cat pee (I can't help it, I don't have a lid for the thing yet and she is RIGHT THERE) has been very informative. It has informed me that my cat is bad at peeing. For two days I thought she was pissing just outside of the litter box to spite me. In actuality, she just can't figure out a litter box.

This is a picture of a cat peeing in a litter box. Note that the cat should turn 180 degrees so her butt is to the high wall.

Sidney does not follow this cart. She walks straight into the litter and, butt hanging out the entrance, all four paws planted firmly in litter, pees right out the "in" spot.

She also exits the box wrong. The Boy and I woke up to a clatter and Sidney running for the opposite end of the house like her ass was on fire and her whiskers were catching. In my office, the litter box was exactly 90 degrees rotated.

After peeing (butt hanging out the "in"), she CONTINUED WALKING OVER THE BACK WALL nearly tipping it over. Not one turn had been executed during the whole process.

I intend to print out the above chart and hang it over her litter box. Now to figure out how to spell, "instructions for litter box use" in cat.

Welcome To Night Vale

Always the last to jump on a band-wagon, or even know a wagon is being boarded, I have recently discovered* the #2 itunes podcast, (only beaten out by This American Life) "Welcome to Night Vale."

If anyone else does not know about this podcast:
1) Hooray! I am not the technically last one to know, and I have found proof!
2) Hooray! I can show you something I think is cool! +5 hipster points awarded to me for hearing about it first!

Think of Welcome to Night Vale as an NPR radio station happening in an H.P. Lovecraft novel.
http://commonplacebooks.com/welcome-to-night-vale/

I loved the podcast so much I did a yoga/Night Vale mash-up poster! If anyone wants one for their home or studio (because, really, who doesn't think subtle references to the occult and bondage are good for a yoga studio?) Send me an email (yogabadassery@gmail.com.) and we'll get one printed out for you.

Also, I did this drawing too. It started out as a Neil Gaiman's Sandman reference but while listening to the podcast, it turned into a library reference. I love the library in Night Vale almost as much as I love the Dog Park. If I lived in Night Vale, the dog park would be my home. Even though it's off limits to all residents and their dogs.

I will leave you with one of my favorite Night Vale proverbs: Look to the sky. You will not find answers there, but you will certainly see what everyone is screaming about. Very yogic, amiright?

* Discovered via the Universal Geek podcast, of which I am a periodic supporting host. I am supposed to contribute, but mainly I just giggle a lot. But you would too, these people are fantastic to listen to. http://www.universal-geek.com

Another Great Moment in Yoga History

I have a friend, Sara, who continued to practice yoga regularly throughout her first, and for most of, her second pregnancy. As she can pride herself on her determination, I can pride myself on my lazer focus on the posture. The two glorious attributes plus pregnancy postures proved an embarrassing combination during full locust.

I am incredibly glad that Sara and I are friends and that she has a very good sense of humor.

In fact, she is such an unflappable yogi that she actually did try to lift me -- by lifting her chest -- before I figured out that my hand was not actually resting on her shoulder. Great class.

(Sara is the author of a new blog you should check out too! The title says it all, "Dude, I Hope You Step on a Lego.")