<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:21:51.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Driste</title><subtitle type='html'>"Practice and all is coming" -- Sri K. Pattabhi Jois</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>139</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112726734731685961</id><published>2005-09-20T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T08:53:18.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Home</title><content type='html'>I've moved!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come see me at:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://driste.typepad.com"&gt;http://driste.typepad.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112726734731685961?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112726734731685961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112726734731685961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112726734731685961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112726734731685961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/new-home.html' title='New Home'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112725353988119227</id><published>2005-09-20T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T15:01:57.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sprouting ambitions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.yougrowgirl.com/garden/images/urbancomposting_title.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.yougrowgirl.com/garden/images/urbancomposting_title.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                             &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;photo from http://www.yougrowgirl.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am inspired by &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.yougrowgirl.com"&gt;this site&lt;/a&gt; to dip my green toe into the soils of gardening once more. I love digging my hands in dirt and potting soil, and watching my plants flourish, but lately I've been watching them droop as my dedication and enthusiasm for them as wilted. So I will start planning my vegetable container garden over the next few months. Why containers, you ask? I still throw my money away every month (I rent). If I have to up and move (which I haven't had to do for 4 years.... knock on wood), I want to take my beloved plants with me. Besides, this time next year I should have my own brand-spankin-new house (Knock on wood!!!!!) and will want to bring my leafy green friends with me to scorching hot Paso Robles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be recruiting my hubby to help me build several portable beds for the backyard. He doesn't know this yet. And in the meantime, I'm saving up for a compost bin, selecting my seeds, and reading up on gardening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my garden wish list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.composters.com/gr/grnmach.jpg"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;, or &lt;a href="http://www.composters.com/gr/BluePlanetSMART.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; (isn't it cute?), or &lt;a href="http://www.composters.com/gr/ec_green.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; for lazy composting*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.homedepot.com/prel80/HDUS/EN_US/diy_main/pg_diy.jsp?prod_id=163147&amp;cm_mmc=1hd.com2froogle-_-product_feed-_-D27X-_-163147&amp;amp;srccode=cii_14110944&amp;cpncode=12-727505-2"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;, for germinating seeds in the garage. That is, if Tay will sacrifice a little corner of his workbench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.superfantastico.com/wc_shirt_wwnd.php"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt;, for sporting while I toil in the soil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that, some wood for the beds, some sand, mulch, potting soil, newspaper, and I should be good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is now my gardening blog as well. I may have to move to Typepad or Movable Type so I could categorize all my entries for archiving and ease of use. Just think.... my categories would be as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Stomach Hurts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My Knee Hurts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Think I Might Be Preg-o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Heart Ashtanga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Heart Wine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Heart Sushi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Heart Liberals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you think of any others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*If I choose to save a few bucks, I will be using &lt;a href="http://www.yougrowgirl.com/garden/urbancomposting.php"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt; to make my own little compost bin. Come to think of it, maybe I'll get moving on that this weekend....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112725353988119227?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112725353988119227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112725353988119227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112725353988119227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112725353988119227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/sprouting-ambitions.html' title='sprouting ambitions'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112716541473628973</id><published>2005-09-19T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T14:32:25.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sleep fighting</title><content type='html'>Terrible Horrible No Good Really Bad dreams last night. Perhaps due to the abnormally large burrito I nibbled on last night at the Taco Temple. And I say nibble because, although I did my best to eat like the true champ that I am, my best was not good enough for this monster. Upon receiving the plate from my lovely tattoed waitress, I mumbled "holy shit, it's bigger than my head," while I pushed the basket of chips far far away (too late, I'm afraid). She said, "we aim to please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 30 minutes later, I put down my fork, unable to fathom taking another bite. &lt;br /&gt;Tay: You barely made a dent!&lt;br /&gt;Me: But I ate so much! It was just so big!&lt;br /&gt;Tay: It was bigger than your head!&lt;br /&gt;Me: That's what I said!&lt;br /&gt;Tay: You did? When?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right. We both compare food items to body parts. This was one of those moments when I realize we're truly MFOE.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then our waitress had the gall to offer the dessert menu. To which we loudly replied in unison, "NO."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner we enjoyed a lovely sunset on the beach, a truly rare sight to see in Morro Bay in September as our coast is normally blanketed by fog in summer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then. Much later. The dreams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running for my life from war, from guns, from bombs. Fighting back with grenades, with guns, with every fiber in my being. Trying to protect my loved ones, trying to keep everyone together, but losing people one by one. Waking up trembling, I tried to shake it off, tried to think about meadows or Kula or flowers or jogging in the redwoods..... all the visions that usually bring me peace and joy. Fell back to sleep and back into the dreams right where I left off. When I woke up a second time, I got up and took a little walk around the house, massaged some lavendar essential oil into my temples and below my nose, hoping the scent would change my subconscious paths. No such luck. By the time my alarm went off at 5, I felt physically heavy and exhausted from fighting all night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fear from the dream crept into my practice, causing self doubt and self deprication throughout each pose. Mentally, it truly was my worst self practice to date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, after showering.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tay: I thought you were getting up for yoga this morning.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I did. &lt;br /&gt;Tay: No way! You just let kula out and got right back into bed!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Nooooo.... I came back to bed after an hour and a half of yoga.&lt;br /&gt;Tay: I don't believe you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So did I dream it all? No, of course not. Tay's just delusional at 5 a.m. Can't say that I blame him. And he made me smile. For the first time that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*For those of you who haven't seen Sleepless in Seattle thousands of times (yes, I have. And yes, I know I'm a loser), this means Meant For Each Other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112716541473628973?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112716541473628973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112716541473628973' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112716541473628973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112716541473628973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/sleep-fighting.html' title='sleep fighting'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112706217243876522</id><published>2005-09-18T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T09:49:32.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NERVES</title><content type='html'>I'm pulling out my hair this morning, reciting sanskrit, reciting the opening prayer and the mangala mantra for closing, quizzing myself on series placement: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"UPAVISHTA KONASANA! After Baddha Konasana, before Supta Konasana!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"SETU BANDHASANA! After Urdhvha Muka Paschimottanasana, before Urdva Dhanurasana!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on. On my own, I know &lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/index.html"&gt;the series&lt;/a&gt; down pat. But in front of 15 people, leading the series, I'm scared I'll falter. Skip poses. Forget asana names. Get caught bumbling verbal cues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's my first day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our previous studio, before it closed, the class basically consisted of the same group of people, week after week. New faces would come trickling in one by one, but for the most part, everyone was comfortable with the series and nothing was too new. Last week, our first week in the new location with rotating "instructors", there were 5 or 6 new faces who had never tried ashtanga. We hadn't even realized that the studio owner had listed the class on the schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope there's no newbies today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112706217243876522?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112706217243876522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112706217243876522' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112706217243876522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112706217243876522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/nerves.html' title='NERVES'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112689734760558252</id><published>2005-09-16T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T12:02:27.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vin, Vino, Wine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/24/42418023_967bc759ce.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/24/42418023_967bc759ce.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinot Noir in bin, fermenting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/26/42359981_94d124fb6e.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/26/42359981_94d124fb6e.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinot Noir off the press&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/29/42360231_e871cb6d0c.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/29/42360231_e871cb6d0c.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lalo at the press&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/33/42359500_484ba25a26.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/33/42359500_484ba25a26.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chardonnay Grapes from Oliver's Vineyard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/25/42359731_40225dd48e.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/25/42359731_40225dd48e.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chardonnay grapes being poured into press&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/29/42360525_185b4b4c90.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/29/42360525_185b4b4c90.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/29/42420925_94b90bcdc4.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/29/42420925_94b90bcdc4.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chardonnay being pressed off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/29/42417137_59a64d52f3.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/29/42417137_59a64d52f3.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barrels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://static.flickr.com/31/42419999_ef69ad7f44.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://static.flickr.com/31/42419999_ef69ad7f44.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barrel Room in the Cellar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112689734760558252?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112689734760558252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112689734760558252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112689734760558252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112689734760558252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/vin-vino-wine.html' title='Vin, Vino, Wine'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112688818622338023</id><published>2005-09-16T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T09:29:46.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>vacation</title><content type='html'>If everyone in America gave up just one day  to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina (not the same day because that would just be chaotic)..... well, just think about what could be achieved in a small amount of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot about what I can do. Monetarily, I don't have much to give, but I gave what I could to a friend whose company was matching employee donations then doubling the match. For every $100 an employee would give, the company would give $200. I don't have any more vacation time for the year and can't afford to take much time off, but maybe come January 1st I could volunteer to help build some houses for Habitat for Humanity. I'm pretty handy with a hammer and nail. I can hear Tay sniggering at the thought somewhere out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And PEOPLE! The Red Cross has received over 80% of all donations. Never before has one disaster relief charity received such a large percentage of donations. Wonderful, but The Red Cross can only do so much. Diversify your donations! Give to &lt;a href="www.noahswish.org"&gt;Noah's Wish&lt;/a&gt; to help the thousands of abandoned pets, &lt;a href="http://www.habitat.org/"&gt;Habitat for Humanity&lt;/a&gt; for rebuilding efforts, &lt;a href="www.directrelief.org"&gt;Direct Relief&lt;/a&gt; for medical aid. There are other worthy charities to investigate as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112688818622338023?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112688818622338023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112688818622338023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112688818622338023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112688818622338023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/vacation.html' title='vacation'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112680816859384085</id><published>2005-09-15T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T11:16:08.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delay Of Game</title><content type='html'>Some bad news on the New-Home front. Our design approvals and building permits have taken longer than originally expected. We're looking at a ground-breaking date of late September-early October. Since there's a lot of foundation work due to the steep slope of the property, this means we'll be cutting into the rainy season before framing and roofing is completed which could get very expensive. Especially if we have another heavy season like last year's. So ground breaking has been delayed until spring. Very sad  news for two people tired of wasting money on rent and sick of  sharing a house with a stranger who likes watching Poker on ESPN and Baywatch reruns on the living room television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A roommate can be good for somethings when hubby is not at home during critical moments such as: "Which dress do I wear to pour wine at black tie benefit? Which shoes?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when he says, "That one, those ones" I still wear the other one, the other ones. Just like I do with hubby. It's tradition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112680816859384085?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112680816859384085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112680816859384085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112680816859384085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112680816859384085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/delay-of-game.html' title='Delay Of Game'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112673133802890708</id><published>2005-09-14T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T13:55:38.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yin</title><content type='html'>This a.m. was not an ashtanga a.m. Not one bit. I got through my sun salutations, then went into supta virasana for a good long meditative stretch. Then bound supta baddha konasana for another 5 minutes. Gentle paschimottanasana, sarvangasana, gentle matsyasana, sirsasana, and savasana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my ashtanga practice. I love the strength of it, the vinyasa, the all encompassing breath, the bandhas, and every one of the poses (except parsvottanasana. I don't know why, but I just don't like that one). I consider myself an "ashtangini" more so than a "yogini". When I don't practice, I wish I had. But sometimes I feel it's too much fire for a pitta person. This morning I felt burnt out by all that fire. Yet I feel a twinge of rebellion followed by guilt when practicing anything else.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the house this morning after my practice with this peace and tranquility radiating throughout. I had a small smile on my face and in my heart most of the morning. Very similar to all other mornings after practice, but didn't feel that weight in my shoulders or that nagging in my wrists or that opening in my hamstrings from a physically taxing practice. But now it's later in the afternoon, and I'm wishing I had my ashtanga practice as my foundation this morning. And why is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it because I've been binding fingers in Supta Kurmasana the past few mornings? And I wonder if this time I could have gotten my feet crossed over my head without pulling out all my hair? Is it because I've finally got perfectly straight legs in all navasanas and my torso is lifted and my boat isn't sinking? Is it because Dropbacks are such an adrenaline rush and now I'm ready for a nap with a capital N? Do I need that extra fire after all?  Is it Sunday's class that I'm scheduled to lead? Am I afraid I'll forget a pose or two or a sanskrit name or a verbal cue? Or is it just morning ritual and habit now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112673133802890708?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112673133802890708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112673133802890708' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112673133802890708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112673133802890708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/yin.html' title='Yin'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112655101396075484</id><published>2005-09-12T11:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T10:21:26.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Pictures!</title><content type='html'>I spent some time uploading some of my pictures to Flickr this weekend. And one year later, I finally got my wedding pictures up so friends and family can take a gander.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my slideshow:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;iframe src=http://www.flickr.com/slideShow/index.gne?user_id=31218093@N00&amp;set_id=921416 frameBorder=0 width=500 height=500 scrolling=no&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-size:10px;text-decoration:none" href="http://blogger-templates.blogspot.com/2005/08/flickr-slideshow-on-your-blog.html"&gt;Flickr Slideshow&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112655101396075484?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112655101396075484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112655101396075484' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112655101396075484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112655101396075484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/wedding-pictures.html' title='Wedding Pictures!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112628471475208898</id><published>2005-09-09T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T14:08:02.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I HATE HARVEST.....</title><content type='html'>Okay, so hate is a strong word, and I don't like using it. But as I mentioned in my last post, I volunteered to help with punch downs yesterday. As a result, I was at work until 7:30 last night punching down by myself. Our lab tech was doing pump-overs (some fruit goes into our big tanks. For these, we take a hose and a pump and pump the juice from the bottom of the tank on to the top), and the rest of the cellar workers were bringing new barrels into the barrel room and prepping them for the press. Usually when I help out with punch downs I'm one of three or four people, so end up punching down maybe 6 or 7 bins. And even then I break out a sweat. After punching down 30 bins last night, I'm in pain today. I've got massive blistering on my hands, my abs are spasming, my back is spasming, and my triceps are.... well.... they hurt. And that means I'm a wimp because the cellar workers do this three times a day, every day, for several weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tip my hat.... no..... I bow to the feet of those cellar workers and winemakers all over the state working 12 to 15 hour days 7 days a week during harvest (which can span mid August until late October or even early November), making these wines. Also, to the vineyard crews and managers who are in the vineyards harvesting from 5 a.m. until well into the afternoon. They are at the will of the weather, kicking it in to 5th gear at any sign of rain (rain during harvest equals bad fruit. Think osmosis) or heatwaves (heat spikes the sugar levels). I have friends who bitch about the price of good wine. But once you see the backbreaking work, sweat, and tears that go into every bottle of wine (well, not every bottle.... Charles Shaw and other bulk-wine makers are in a different arena, as far as I'm concerned), you understand why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I still hate buying wine without my industry discount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't mentioned Katrina in this blog..... others are so eloquent in their words, I've chosen to read their words and meditate on them. &lt;a href="http://mysore.blogspot.com/"&gt;C.K.&lt;/a&gt; has some food for thought, and &lt;a href="http://badgerbag.typepad.com/badgerbag/"&gt;Badgerbag&lt;/a&gt; has up and flown to Austin to help out in the Astrodome. She called upon her blogging community for donations to help with her flight, and her blogging community responded with overwhelming support. &lt;a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/auryn24/299034.html#cutid1"&gt;This nurse&lt;/a&gt; writes about her experiences working in a flooded hospital in New Orleans. Absolutely horrifying and heartbreaking. But uplifting as well that so many people kept their head and gave so much of themselves in the midst of chaos to help those around them survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's impossible to wrap my mind around the span of this tragedy. Our country has failed the people of New Orleans miserably. And no one at fault is apologizing. We wonder how it's possible that something like this can happen and our government can't snap into action to fix it. Perhaps the &lt;a href="http://www.freep.com/voices/editorials/ekatrina9e_20050909.htm"&gt;FEMA appointments&lt;/a&gt; made by our president and the lack of experience (but plethora of campaign support) of those appointed might have played a role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear, I'm getting angry again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112628471475208898?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112628471475208898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112628471475208898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112628471475208898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112628471475208898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-hate-harvest.html' title='I HATE HARVEST.....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112628519248466154</id><published>2005-09-09T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-09T09:59:52.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Outrage</title><content type='html'>I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.  From anger to outrage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From CNN, Sept. 1st:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;FEMA chief: Victims bear some responsibility&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Brown pleased with effort: 'Things are going relatively well'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;(CNN) -- The director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency said Thursday those New Orleans residents who chose not to heed warnings to evacuate before Hurricane Katrina bear some responsibility for their fates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Michael Brown also agreed with other public officials that the death toll in the city could reach into the thousands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"Unfortunately, that's going to be attributable a lot to people who did not heed the advance warnings," Brown told CNN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"I don't make judgments about why people chose not to leave but, you know, there was a mandatory evacuation of New Orleans," he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"And to find people still there is just heart-wrenching to me because, you know, the mayor did everything he could to get them out of there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"So, we've got to figure out some way to convince people that whenever warnings go out it's for their own good," Brown said. "Now, I don't want to second guess why they did that. My job now is to get relief to them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Louisiana Gov. Kathleen Babineaux Blanco and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin have both predicted the death toll could be in the thousands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Nagin issued a "desperate SOS" Thursday as violence disrupted efforts to rescue people still trapped in the flooded city and evacuate thousands of displaced residents living amid corpses and human waste. (Full story)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Residents expressed growing frustration with the disorder evident on the streets, raising questions about the coordination and timeliness of relief efforts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Sniper fire prevented Charity Hospital from evacuating its patients Thursday. The hospital has no electricity or water, food consists of a few cans of vegetables, and the patients had to be moved to upper floors because of looters. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Brown was upbeat in his assessment of the relief effort so far, ticking off a list of accomplishments: more than 30,000 National Guard troops will be in the city within three days, the hospitals are being evacuated and search and rescue missions are continuing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"Considering the dire circumstances that we have in New Orleans -- virtually a city that has been destroyed -- that things are going relatively well," Brown said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Nevertheless, he said he could "empathize with those in miserable conditions."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Asked later on CNN how he could blame the victims, many of whom could not flee the storm because they had no transportation or were too frail to evacuate on their own, Brown said he was not blaming anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"Now is not the time to be blaming," Brown said. "Now is the time to recognize that whether they chose to evacuate or chose not to evacuate, we have to help them."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Democratic Sen. Mary Landrieu of Louisiana, whose father was a longtime New Orleans mayor, said there was "plenty of blame to go around," citing underinvestement by federal authorities over many years "despite pleas and warnings by officials."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Earlier on CNN, Brown was asked why authorities had not prepared for just such a catastrophe -- given that the levees were designed to withstand only a Category 3 hurricane and Katrina was stronger than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"Government officials and engineers will debate that and figure that out," he replied. "Right now, I'm trying to focus on saving lives. I think we should have that debate, but at an appropriate time."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Brown said Katrina was unlike other hurricanes in which the magnitude of the disaster typically subsides after the initial blow. That was not the case Monday, when the Category 4 storm blew ashore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"What we had in New Orleans is a growing disaster: The hurricane hit, that was one disaster; then the levees broke, that was another disaster; then the floods came; that became a third disaster."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;Brown said he had to be careful about getting rescue teams to the site earlier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;"Otherwise, we would have faced an even higher death toll," he said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112628519248466154?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112628519248466154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112628519248466154' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112628519248466154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112628519248466154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/outrage.html' title='Outrage'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112619728740101012</id><published>2005-09-08T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T09:39:13.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Harvest is HERE!</title><content type='html'>My favorite time of the year, harvest is in full swing here at the winery. Bins of Pinot Noir are coming in from the vineyard, sorted on a vibrating table, partially destemmed (some are fermented whole-cluster or partially whole-cluster), then placed back in a 1-ton bin and trucked into the winery right under my office. Once the grapes begin to ferment, punch-downs begin! Every day, three times daily, we grab one of &lt;a href="http://www.morebeer.com/product.html?product_id=19685&amp;PHPSESSID=c0ad42f2a43adede7c61ad22d609ec9f"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; (only ours have handles at the top), climb up a little scaffolding, and punch down each bin. The main objective is to break up the "cap", which is the berries, stems, and skins that float to the top, and push it back down into the wine. This way, we keep the cap moist, we introduce more oxygen to the bin (which in turn helps speed up fermentation), we dissipate the heat that naturally occurs in fermentation, we keep mold  and harmful bacteria from forming, and we enrich the wine with color, flavor, tannin, and other phenolic compounds. After a few days of sitting and fermenting with the skins, the wine is pressed off and transferred to barrel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chardonnay goes through a more simplified process. The grapes come in, they're sorted, destemmed, then pressed. The juice is then transferred to barrel where it will ferment sans skins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My yoga practice has gone out the window since I've volunteered for punch-downs this week. Manual labor really takes it out of you. My pecs feel like they're ripping open at the side seams. I am reminded every time I move my upper body that my obliques are  suffering as well. My triceps are like jell-o. If I tried one controlled chaturanga, I think I'd fall on my face. Seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of physical asana, I've been spending more time meditating, which is a challenge for me as I am a mover. My nose itches. My butt itches. Sitting still is very difficult for this one. But I'm seeing improvement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week I'll try to weasel out of some of the punch-downs so I can resume my ashtanga practice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112619728740101012?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112619728740101012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112619728740101012' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112619728740101012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112619728740101012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/harvest-is-here.html' title='Harvest is HERE!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112603042073172403</id><published>2005-09-06T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T11:13:40.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>spoke to soon</title><content type='html'>Regarding my thoughts on teaching ashtanga...... Strike that. Apparently I have been volunteered to be one of four rotating instructors taking over the Sunday a.m. led primary since Jen left. Our studio closed, so another studio has offered us a similar time slot as long as we can provide instructors. No one was willing to step up as a weekly instructor, since it's the only ashtanga class in San Luis Obispo and we all want to practice. So an agreement has been made. Oh. Okay. Beautiful. So I will be teaching Ashtanga after all. Or, at least, I'll be leading primary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am thrilled to have a Sunday led class to return to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112603042073172403?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112603042073172403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112603042073172403' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112603042073172403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112603042073172403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/spoke-to-soon.html' title='spoke to soon'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112601056849024301</id><published>2005-09-06T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T05:56:38.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knackered</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/1600/IMG_02551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/320/IMG_02551.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ashtanga this a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me crazy, but I'm headed to an all-levels class at my friend's yoga studio. I feel drained and beaten down from the weekend, my shoulders ache, my feet hurt, I'm tired. So hatha this morning, ashtanga this evening once I've had a chance to recover a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was fabulous! Poor Yellow was stretched quite a bit since they still had some planning to do when they arrived in Mill Valley. But all the events were so fun, and the wedding was so beautiful. We had Friday afternoon mani's and pedi's for the bridesmaids and bride, then rehearsal, then rehearsal/out of towners dinner (mayhem and fun), then out for drinks.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Beer cozy shown is one of our favors)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, kayaking through the Saucelito bay, then a bar-b-q at Paradise Beach Park. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, 8 a.m. yoga with yours truly, hair, make-up, stress, champagne, and THE WEDDING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, brunch, check-out, drive to Santa Cruz, drop off Mom, drive to San Luis Obispo, collapse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just dropped Tay off at the airport (at 4:15 a.m. OUCH) where he's whisking away to Montana with his dad for a 3 day fishing trip to celebrate Pop's 60th. Poor Tay will be shell-shocked from travel by the end of the week, and he leaves again on Saturday for some other far-flung destination. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Sunday a.m. yoga class went pretty well. I was pressed for time, as everyone showed up at 8 a.m., gabbed, talked, kids running, handstands, cartwheels.... I couldn't get them into Samasthiti until 8:15 or 8:20, and people needed to leave by 9 for church. So I did what I could. A sprinkling of sun salutations, some standing poses, paschimottanasana, purvottanasana, baddha konasana, 3 navasanas, 3 ustrasanas, and a long savasana with a neck and shoulder massage. It was fun, and I got a lot of positive feedback afterwards (but would anyone really tell me I sucked?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More thoughts of teaching have surfaced. Not teaching ashtanga, as I wouldn't want to teach without practicing under Guruji and Sharath, but teaching vinyasa classes here and there. Or at least getting on some sub lists and taking it slow to start with. When I start my technical writing, I'll need a few things on the side. I'd like to teach yoga. I'd also like to take some massage therapy or reflexology classes. Above all else, I just never want to stop learning. Also, as a massage therapist or reflexologist, I could travel to Mysore (years from now, but it's still a palpable goal) and work if I need to. Pick up small editing jobs now and then through on-line correspondence, practice, live the life I devour daily through &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/vanessa/"&gt;Vanessa&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.katstan.net"&gt;KJS's&lt;/a&gt; blogs. Someday this truly could be my reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112601056849024301?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112601056849024301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112601056849024301' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112601056849024301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112601056849024301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/09/knackered.html' title='Knackered'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112549856131765125</id><published>2005-08-31T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T07:29:21.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>L is for.....</title><content type='html'>LADIES' HOLIDAY!!!! Which is finally here!!! It's like that person who walks up behind you when you're gossipping about them. It just needed to be mentioned. It needed to make an entrance. So, I apologize for worrying anyone, and don't worry mom, I'm a-okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm glad it's ladies' holiday today because since The Republican couched it with us last night, I would have had to go to the gym to practice. Also, we were out until almost midnight last night and I didn't eat dinner until 10 p.m. Neither of which are conducive to a 5 a.m. ashtanga practice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I can relax and take a few mornings off to rest, rejuvenate, and SLEEP IN! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.aperfectworld.org/cartoons/armwrestling.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.aperfectworld.org/cartoons/armwrestling.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thursday is the &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/darn-you-kjs.html"&gt;Gridlock Challenge&lt;/a&gt; with &lt;a href="katstan.net"&gt;Kathy&lt;/a&gt;, and I need all the rest I can get so I can be at my best. And lay the Smack Down on her. However, I just tried to find &lt;a href="http://gprime.net/game/"&gt;the page&lt;/a&gt;, and it looks like it's not working. So maybe we'll have to arm wrestle and call it even or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112549856131765125?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112549856131765125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112549856131765125' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112549856131765125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112549856131765125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/l-is-for.html' title='L is for.....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112544271595993742</id><published>2005-08-30T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T15:58:35.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>System Failure</title><content type='html'>Just realized...... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 3 of what should be Ladies' Holiday (at least according to my Pill).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And still no Ladies' Holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now entering month two of &lt;a href="http://www.intelihealth.com/IH/ihtIH/WSIHW000/9339/9443.html"&gt;amenorrhea&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too young for menopause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I should take a fourth preg-O test. Or make yet another doctor's appointment. Maybe they'll give me another ultrasound. It is kind of fun staring at that screen and trying to figure out what the heck one's looking at. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "That's my kidney? Really? How can you tell?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am experiencing mild discomfort in my abdominal area. Could be cramps, or perhaps it is only that butter croissant I had at breakfast. Butter equals "no bueno" when one is lactarded, but I continue to ignore that. Call me ignorant. Call me stupid. Call me late for my ladies' holiday. Just don't call me late for breakfast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112544271595993742?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112544271595993742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112544271595993742' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112544271595993742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112544271595993742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/system-failure.html' title='System Failure'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112542958765551303</id><published>2005-08-30T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T12:19:47.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SHOES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jolieimports.com/Gallery/Shoe_69_Big.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.jolieimports.com/Gallery/Shoe_69_Big.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so here's the truth. The reason I decided to wear my wedding shoes in Yellow's wedding instead of buying gold strappy shoes is because I found THESE shoes. And I'm obsessed with them. And I'm wearing them right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet are in shock as they have not seen the inside of a shoe (besides hiking shoes and flip-flops) in I don't know how long and neither do they. But every so often, even the lowest maintenance non-shoe wearers such as myself have to splurge on a pair of show-stopping, outstanding heels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up this morning, I had been dreaming that I was sick. I was lying on the couch, and my mom was bringing me chicken soup, Nana's soup, Jell-o, 7Up, and soda crackers: all the foods she would feed me when I was sick as a little girl. My alarm went off, and I felt sick. I made it to my mat (somehow), got through standing, then went right into Savasana where I promptly fell asleep. I felt a little guilty not pushing myself through primary, but I can't afford to get sick right now. Have to be at optimal health in order to help Yellow orchestrate this weekend's events. I O.D.'d on Vitamin C before I left, drank a litre of water, and now I'm feeling much better. Must remember to pick up Airborn on the way home this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have an event here at the winery after work: a mixer of sorts for all tasting room and industry staff in the area, and it should be great fun. All wineries are bringing wine from their cellars, and we're pouring our single vineyard Pinots, which will be released Sept 1st and which are FABULOUS. My only reservation for this evening is that Sara (our winery caterer) will be making her famous bacon-wrapped almond-stuffed dates. Those are going to be difficult to ignore, but I'll just think of little piggies and slaughterhouses and RESIST TEMPTATION! Ahimsa. The Republican is coming up from Santa Barbara to surprise everyone (he used to work here before moving down south), so we'll do dinner after. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/1600/BP%20Logo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/200/BP%20Logo.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In other work-related news, we're making a dry &lt;a href="http://www.thewinedoctor.com/glossary/s.shtml"&gt;saignee&lt;/a&gt; rose' of Syrah! I'm so excited because I love dry rose's, and PINK WINE IS THE SH*T as long as it isn't white zinfandel. I'm heading up the label design, as our black Bishop's Peak label just won't cut it for lovely, playful, pink rose'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112542958765551303?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112542958765551303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112542958765551303' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112542958765551303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112542958765551303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/shoes.html' title='SHOES'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112527172673092136</id><published>2005-08-28T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T05:22:06.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bees' knees again.</title><content type='html'>I'm beginning to wonder if my knees will ever be the same. Will they ever heal? Will they continue to be a grievance and a nuisance and a hindrance throughout my lifetime of yoga practice? Will i ever sit in padmasana again without the fear and/or certainty of reinjury???? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience, grasshopper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you have to admit.... it's been a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confident that my left knee will get there soon. I feel no aches on that side throughout my practice or any time after. But I told myself in June that I would give both knees until at least December before I attempt padmasana or half padmasana for any pose. I've learned my lesson. Just when you think you've healed, that's when you reinjure. And that's the most frustrating feeling in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's life. We take a few steps to test the water, we gain confidence, we gain our footing, we skip joyously, we revel in our abilities, and then..... with a POP.... they're stripped from us. Just like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opted for a change of scenery this morning and practiced at the gym instead of in my living room. Sometimes that's all I need to jumpstart my motivation. Looking back now, hours later, I realize I skipped &lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/03a-Utkatasana.html"&gt;Utkatasana&lt;/a&gt;. Oof. I built some nice heat this morning, had to roll out the mysore rug even before the Prasaritas.&lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/fundamental-asanas/5c-Prasarita-Padottanasana-C.html"&gt; C&lt;/a&gt; was a bit painful, my shoulders protested and I could just barely touch the floor with my palms facing outward on the 5th breath. I'd been making contact on the 2nd or 3rd breath with palms facing eachoter before my vacations, so I can definitely feel the regression that week away brought to my practice. Also, my strength in vinyasas and arm balances faltered quite a bit this morning. &lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20b-Bhuja-Pindasana.html"&gt;The vinyasa out of Bhujapidasana&lt;/a&gt; was lack-luster, with a fairly strong &lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21d-Supta-Kurmasana-Vinyasa-out.html"&gt;tittibasana&lt;/a&gt; followed by a terrible attempt at &lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21e-Supta-Kurmasana-Vinyasa-out.html"&gt;Bakasana&lt;/a&gt;, and a step back to chaturanga instead of the usual jump/float. My legs weren't quite up on my shoulders in Kurmasana, but still managed to touch sternum to the floor and lift my feet off the ground for a few breaths. Supta Kurmasana did not feel very deep at all. I'm sure I looked more like a squashed turtle than a reclined turtle. Backbends were more of a chore than a release this morning, and dropbacks left me extremely winded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of this mattered to me. Starting a fresh week felt like returning home after a long journey away. Of course, now that I can devote myself to my daily practice, ladies' holiday is scheduled to start today or tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, I'll skip it like I did last month. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While a small part of me is thrilled that I skipped last month's cycle and hopes this will be a regular occurence (regular irregularity?), a much larger part is alarmed, concerned, and unhappy. Bulimic and anorexic gymnasts have amenorrhea. Marathon runners and Triathletes who have 5% body fat have amenorrhea. I should not, since I eat plenty, take lots of supplements to make up for the meat I'm not eating, don't over-exercise, and do not have extremely low body fat. So, if I skip again this month, you can bet I'll be making yet another doctor's appointment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been an insurance company's worst nightmare these past few months. What would I do if I was like millions of other americans and was going through all of this without health insurance? American healthcare. Totally F-ed up. Even with insurance, I've met my co-payment deductible ($250) in just 2 short months, and have paid just over $300 in lab and diagnostic fees. And that's just the 20% I'm obligated to pay. My health insurance pays for the remaining 80%. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've given up on gold shoes. I've decided to wear my wedding shoes, which are ivory like the other bridesmaids' shoes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.zappos.com/images/649/7133649/73385-d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.zappos.com/images/649/7133649/73385-d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are lovely shoes, just a tiny bit scuffed up from my big day. And this way I can save a few bucks and maybe buy a pair of jeans or a new outfit for the rehearsal dinner or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wish more than anything else in the world that I could hop on a plane and fly to Portland to give Yellow a big big hug and help her destress and help her get ready for her drive down to California to get MARRIED! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are Yellow and her sweetie right after he proposed at the Grand Canyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.theknot.com/PWPImages/3218793910626873/3218793910626873_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://images.theknot.com/PWPImages/3218793910626873/3218793910626873_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hilarious side-story here. Yellow's sweetie was down on one knee proposing, Yellow said yes, kiss kiss, so excited..... then a man popped out of the bushes with a camera, said he'd been taking pictures of the views, and upon realizing what her sweetie was up to, he took some shots of them but didn't want to disturb them. Took down their address, sent them copies of the photos he took!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112527172673092136?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112527172673092136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112527172673092136' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112527172673092136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112527172673092136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/bees-knees-again.html' title='bees&apos; knees again.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112510873511803265</id><published>2005-08-26T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T19:12:15.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanted: Shoes</title><content type='html'>Not just any shoes. I'm looking for show-stopping, gold, fabulous shoes. For Yellow's wedding. As I mentioned, her gown is gold and eggplant. We're wearing ivory, with eggplant pashminas. But shoes! I don't want ivory shoes, because the ceremony is in a little redwood grove and ivory shoes would just get ruined. So I'm trying to find some fun, funky gold shoes. Strappy, not strappy, whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;San Luis Obispo SUCKS for shoe shopping. Any shopping, really. Which is usually just fine with me, as I'm not much of a clothes-horse/shopper. Not really my bag. Speaking of which, I need a bag, too! Or clutch, or purse, or whatever you call it.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have one department store. ONE. Gottschalks. Besides that, we have a few great boutiques, but the shoe selection is RIDICULOUS. So I'm haunting all these websites, trying to find great shoes.... now I'm out of websites. Ladies (and fashion-minded gents), I NEED YOUR HELP! I need some great websites. Here's the ones I've tried: Anthropologie, Nordstroms, Urban Outfitters, Macys, Amazon (I got lost in the selection and gave up). Here's what my dress looks like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jcrew.com/images/newshots2004/main500/62983_NA6434_FA05_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.jcrew.com/images/newshots2004/main500/62983_NA6434_FA05_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, help a sista out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112510873511803265?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112510873511803265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112510873511803265' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112510873511803265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112510873511803265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/wanted-shoes.html' title='Wanted: Shoes'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112507537975686785</id><published>2005-08-26T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T09:56:19.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I see London, I see France....</title><content type='html'>Actually, I've never seen London or France. I have seen mountains. The Pioneer Mountains. And now you can too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos26.flickr.com/37228101_17bf235c25.jpg?v=0" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Don't I look smug? I soon wiped that shitty grin off my face within 5 minutes of climbing. Or the altitude wiped it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos31.flickr.com/37228327_33072b831d.jpg?v=0" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I use maps. Why can't he? *sigh* Men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos32.flickr.com/37230543_fe3ec6d495.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so it was beautiful. But painful. Oh so painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos22.flickr.com/37230544_efe6f8174d.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't hear me, but I'm cussing right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos26.flickr.com/37230545_8fac123312.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell? I can feel the burn. Please Note: Big Belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos27.flickr.com/37230546_65326da8e4.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos29.flickr.com/37230547_1d7bb2219f.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us and The Bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos25.flickr.com/37230548_a3a03ec3f2.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pioneer Cabin. Finally. Isn't it beautiful? Built in the 30's as an outpost for the blossoming cross country and downhill skiing trends in the area.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112507537975686785?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112507537975686785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112507537975686785' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112507537975686785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112507537975686785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-see-london-i-see-france.html' title='I see London, I see France....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112490479336330039</id><published>2005-08-24T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T10:33:13.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bejeweled</title><content type='html'>I am pierced! I love my little stud (and I'm not talking about my husband, here). It's not as tiny as I would like to eventually have, but the piercer said they've had troubles with the tiny ones falling through the hole in the first few weeks. Not good. But it's still tiny enough that not many people at work have noticed it yet. I like to think that means it just looks natural, like it should be there or has been there already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was telling &lt;a href="http://rewashtanga.blogspot.com"&gt;REW&lt;/a&gt; in an email that I'm a bit of a nose-smasher. When I have an itch, I smack the palm of my hand against my nose and smush it about. I have a small, squishy nose so a simple little scratch just doesn't suffice. So I'll have to stop the nose smashing for a bit and give the thing a chance to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DID wake up this morning on time, hopped out of bed, struggled to find undies, yoga pants and yoga top in the dark, and stood on my mat in Tadasana, toes wiggling in excitement. I'm back, baby! However, my practice is not. My knees are still bothering me, I felt a slight strain even in Janu Sirsasana A. I skipped B, C was okay, but not comfortable by any means. My hips have tightened up a bit. My wrists hurt through vinyasas and in Bhujapidasana. Stand ups were a joke. I dropped like a ton of bricks in dropbacks, not light or controlled. Need more Pilates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all of my body's complaints, I was happy as a clam, knowing better days are ahead. I spent a long time in Padmasana (modified for knee injuries), just soaking it in and breathing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I love looking down my nose and seeing a little sparkle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112490479336330039?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112490479336330039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112490479336330039' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112490479336330039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112490479336330039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/bejeweled.html' title='Bejeweled'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112482149182548389</id><published>2005-08-23T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T11:24:51.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a.m. or p.m.</title><content type='html'>Can't seem to get those two straight. Set my alarm for 5 last night, turns out I set it for 5 &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;P.M.&lt;/span&gt;. So I woke up at 7 &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;A.M.&lt;/span&gt;, not even time for a sun salutation. First word out of the mouth was an expletive, which Tay says is not a good way to start the day. So maybe I can get in a practice this evening, but I doubt it. I just feel so wound up and frustrated that my routine has been completely annihilated. And I'm really not one of those routine freaks, really I'm not. Not like, "Thursdays I have a breakfast burrito at Buzz Cafe and thanks for asking, but I don't hike on Tuesdays...." Although I do know a few people like that. I think my practice is the only routine I have in my day. It's my anchor. It grounds me. The rest of my life just flies around me like a hurricane, papers everywhere, clothes everywhere, and a clock or two just ticking away the hours much too quickly. I really need a 26 hour day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, &lt;a href="http://rewashtanga.blogspot.com/"&gt;REW&lt;/a&gt; pierced her nose. And I have wanted to pierce mine for years. And so, today, I'm gonna do it. And when my mom gets mad and asked me why I did it, I'm simply going to say "Because REW did it, and she's so cool." So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I downloaded my Idaho pics on to my computer, and I was going to post them this morning. And then I took a closer look. I had some bloating going on. Y'all know I've been having stomach issues, well apparently I don't travel well. I look like a malnourished person with the distended stomach. Only well nourished, because I've never looked frail or anorexic a day in my life. So maybe I'll have to do some cropping in iPhoto and post pics from the chest up only. Or maybe I'll just say screw it and bare my belly with pride now that I've typed in this disclaimer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112482149182548389?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112482149182548389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112482149182548389' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112482149182548389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112482149182548389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/am-or-pm.html' title='a.m. or p.m.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112473411895131769</id><published>2005-08-22T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T11:12:15.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elbow Room</title><content type='html'>Home from Yellow's send-off weekend. It was a great time, and after all my feet-dragging and bitching last week, I have to say I'm so glad I went. Really my only complaints from the get-go were about the drive, and it actually wasn't all that bad! The Good gave me a whole bunch of &lt;a href="http://www.thislife.org/"&gt;This American Life&lt;/a&gt; episodes which she had downloaded and burned to CD. For those of you not familiar with &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/"&gt;NPR&lt;/a&gt; or this show, y'all are missing out. Absolute Brilliance, IMHO. I laughed and cried myself all the way to Tahoe and all the way back. And I didn't fall asleep at the wheel once. Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were packed into a tiny studio-with-loft condo like sardines. Ten very headstrong, open, verbally unsuppressed women, four walls, one bathroom with a dysfunctional toilet.... all very comical. Now that I'm home, I'm thrilled to have some elbow room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night I rolled in at about 11 p.m. Yellow and the rest of her college friends hadn't yet arrived (they thought they'd be there at 6 p.m.) and they had the ONE KEY to the condo. Two of my high school comrades were waiting in the parking lot (they had been there since 6 p.m.) and seemed a little miffed, bored out of their minds, and not all that impressed with the night life in Truckee. Have no fear ladies..... I have screw-top wine.* We passed a couple of bottles back and forth between the three of us (with comments such as "come on man, you're f-in' up the rotation! puff puff give!") and reflected upon that moment's similarities to high school. Sitting in the car outside school dances or Disco Night at the Coconut Grove, swigging something, talking, laughing, shushing each other so as not to gain the attention of the security guard.... good times. By the time Yellow and the other girls showed up at 12, we were just a little sloppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the weekend was great, and it was so nice to get to know some of these girls a little better and catch up with those who I once knew so well. I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed and possibly still a wee bit drunk on Saturday morning at 6, so tiptoed out the door, downstairs to the lobby for primary underneath the surveillance camera. Balancing poses were a challenge. Sunday morning, I led a one hour yoga session. I followed most of the standing series, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/05c-Dandasana.html"&gt;dandasana&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/05d-Paschimottanasana-A.html"&gt;paschimottanasana A&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/09-Purvattanasana.html"&gt;purvottanasana&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/12-Janu-Sirsasana-A.html"&gt;janu sirsasana A&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/15-Marichyasana-A.html"&gt;marichyasana A&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/17-Marichasana-C.html"&gt;C&lt;/a&gt;, bakasana, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20a-Bhuja-Pindasana-Vinyasa-in.html"&gt;bhujapidasana&lt;/a&gt; (just some fun arm balances to lighten the mood a bit), 3 &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/19a-Navasana.html"&gt;navasanas&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/finishing-positions/01b-Salamba-Sarvangasana.html"&gt;shoulder stand&lt;/a&gt;, halasana, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/finishing-positions/06-Mathsyasana.html"&gt;matsyasana&lt;/a&gt;, and savasana. Some stuff I will take out, some stuff I'll need to add..... I do have to say..... tough to keep from panting out your directions at high altitude through sun salutations. I'll change a few things before the wedding yoga in 2 weeks, but it was good to get some feedback from the girls and get a little taste of what it's like. I had a few goof ups: "Put your right foot on your right shin" in trikonasana, that sort of thing. But we all just got a good laugh out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm struggling to rediscover my routine. I miss my practice. The 5 a.m. alarm was completely ignored this morning, so hopefully I can get in a short practice before my pilates class this evening. Tomorrow I WILL get up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 11 a.m. and I'm completely obsessing over what I'll make for dinner tonight. Think I'm hungry?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112473411895131769?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112473411895131769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112473411895131769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112473411895131769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112473411895131769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/elbow-room.html' title='Elbow Room'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112446918020616302</id><published>2005-08-19T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T09:35:10.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There and Back Again</title><content type='html'>And for my next trick....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will disappear once again, whisked away by my trusty Honda off to Tahoe for a weekend of ESTROGEN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh, bachelorette parties. But as bachelorette parties go, this one is a-okay in my book. A weekend at the cabin on donner lake, hiking, yoga (led by yours truly), wine, and food. No bars, no strippers, no shots, no dildos (well, no promises on that one).... good times will be had by all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I previously mentioned, Idaho was grand. I used to vacation there as a young'un, and it's even more fun now than it was then. What made it even better is that we were automatically linked in to this local community of Tay's childhood friends. (He grew up there, then moved away when he was 13. Most of his friends moved away and then moved back.) So while he was off mountainbiking with one guy, I was off mountainbiking with some other guy's girlfriend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We celebrated our one year anniversary by going on a hike through the Pioneer mountains that consisted of two trails which met at Pioneer Cabin, a little shack built in 1938 for cross country skiers at 9600 ft. elevation. The views from the cabin were said to rival any views from the Alps. This was not just any hike. We had unknowingly began a death-march. We thought we were good hikers. We thought we were bad-asses. Frankly, this trail put us in our place. We climbed 4000 feet in elevation along a ridge on a trail so faint we wondered if we were going the right way. No switch-backs because apparently switch-backs are for pussies. When we started descending into a valley, I trembled in excitement. Or was it exhaustion? The cabin must be just up ahead, I thought. No such luck. Taylor pointed to the trail hundreds of feet above us. "I think we have to climb over that mountain first." Well, that one, and another one, and then finally.... THE CABIN!!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We realized our error when we descended the Corral Creek trail, which was wide, pristine, and loaded with switch-backs. No one does the loop. People climb Corral Creek Trail and then turn around and walk back down the way they came. If they do hike the loop, they hike up Corral Creek trail and down what we came up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we reached our hotel, we were exhausted. We stayed &lt;a href="http://www.sunvalley.com/resort_info/accommodations/accommodations_lodge.cfm#"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for the night, courtesy of Mom and Dad (thanks, guys!). We got to our room, and there were roses from Tay, a bottle of French Champagne from my boss, and a huge gift basket from the folks (thanks again, guys!). We had a great dinner at Felix's in Ketchum, then back to the hotel to collapse in an exhausted heap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I left Ketchum when I did. Hiking, biking, kayaking..... all at high altitude..... if I had stayed, I would have died of exhaustion. Or my feet may have fallen off. One or the other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112446918020616302?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112446918020616302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112446918020616302' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112446918020616302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112446918020616302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/there-and-back-again.html' title='There and Back Again'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112440889496050275</id><published>2005-08-18T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T16:48:14.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just in time</title><content type='html'>I just looked at that calendar and my heart cracked just a bit. Moon day tomorrow. *sob*  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really looking forward to tomorrow's practice since I just got in primary up to Mari C this morning before heading into finishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday's was the first practice in 6 days due to sharing a condo with the in-laws in Idaho. No personal space = no personal practice. This did not stop me from having a great time, of course. Ketchum is an outdoorswoman's dream. As long as you can ignore &lt;a href="http://www.sunvalleyresortproperties.com/properties.htm"&gt;the mansions&lt;/a&gt; and the porsche SUV's that have been popping up in the past few years, that is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112440889496050275?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112440889496050275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112440889496050275' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112440889496050275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112440889496050275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/just-in-time.html' title='Just in time'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112377772158873116</id><published>2005-08-11T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T09:28:41.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>but then again....</title><content type='html'>Must..... Have...... Coffee......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the drip machine to drip. I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried twice to drag myself out of bed this morning for practice with completely unsuccessful results. My head was pounding. My body ached. All my favorite yoga pants were in the laundry. And it was cold. All the typical excuses that now seem so pathetic, invalid, and miniscule. But they were convincing at the time. So I surrendered to sleeping in and a short practice later this afternoon between work and a friend's 30th birthday dinner will have to do. It will be short. It will be challenging. But I'll do it, damnit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking ahead to the weeks to come.... and cringeing. Leaving tomorrow for Sun Valley Idaho for Tay's childhood best bud's wedding, celebrating our one year anniversary up there on Sunday, back home Wednesday night, leave from work Friday evening to drive to Tahoe for Yellow's bachelorette party (7 hours), come back Sunday night, work overtime throughout the next week and weekend to make up two of the days from the Idaho vacation (only have 2 days paid vacation left), two friends coming into town the 26th-28th to wine taste and reminisce about the old days in SLO-town, work overtime throughout the next week to make up time which will be missed on September 2 for Yellow's rehearsal up in Mill Valley, then a 3-day long wedding celebration. After that.... I.... Can..... Relax..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned to KJS that I was envious she had enjoyed two massages in a week. I said I've never had a massage, and she said I've got some catching up to do, as massage is a necessary luxury in the life of an ashtangi. I could see that. No, I can feel that. Maybe at the end of all this, I'll treat myself to my first ever massage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cut my hair yesterday. Actually, my friend cut my hair. And I love it. And it's much too stylish for my frumpy wardrobe. Which may inspire some shopping.... which is why I'm having to work all this overtime rather than just taking no-pay days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112377772158873116?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112377772158873116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112377772158873116' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112377772158873116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112377772158873116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/but-then-again.html' title='but then again....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112354372061194919</id><published>2005-08-08T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T16:28:40.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dipstick, TAKE 2</title><content type='html'>And once again, Negativo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must agree with &lt;a href="http://rewashtanga.blogspot.com/"&gt;REW&lt;/a&gt; and her &lt;a href="http://rewashtanga.blogspot.com/2005/08/hello-muscles.html"&gt;observances&lt;/a&gt; of first and second days back to practice after any extended hiatus away from one's mat. Please allow me to chime in with my own experience....*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, got to the shala at about 6:45. D had originally told me that they would open the shala at 7, but adjustments would start at 8. When I voiced how happy I was that they'd be open at 7 and that I'd be waiting at the door, he mentioned that he'd be there at 6 for his own practice, and feel free to come any time I needed. I was struck instantly by the heat and humidity in the room. Quite a welcome change from my living room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the stress of the week, I cried a few silent tears of sheer relief in my second Surya Namaskara A. I needed my practice more than ever. It was a return to a little slice of normalcy. Well, normalcy in a strange town in a new room with a man I've never met....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, others joined me. I was a bit surprised at the good turnout, considering Saturday night was the biggest night in this weekend's Fiesta. What dedicated ashtangis! Maybe they "Fiesta'd" Friday night instead. I basked in the energy of the room. I noticed my concentration and attention to my tristhana was much more intense than usual. My breath was a bit shaky, probably due to 5 days off. Bound and folded forward in &lt;a href="http://ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/02-Ardha-Baddha-Padmottanasana.html"&gt;Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana&lt;/a&gt;, and now I'm feeling the after-effects in my poor little right LCL. Hmmmm.... Poor little &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt;. I take that back. This k-nee is a k-nag. A regular old curmudgeon. And I'm sick of it. Wait.... I digress. I practiced up to Supta Kurmasana (which was pathetic), then went into Urdva Dhanurasana, then finishing. I considered standing up for dropbacks, but don't know shala policy and practices, so skipped them. A little help here, if you would?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished just after 8, so no adjustments. D followed me into the front room, awkward introductions, A came out, more introductions, cash was given ($16 for a room to practice in... next time I'll come later to get my money's worth with the adjustments), and I explained to them that I'd like to come down at least once a month. Great, they said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day two back at the mat: This morning was cold. And painful. No head to knee in forward bends. Ouch. But much better attempt at Supta Kurmasana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*But first, I must admit to my own sillyness. So nervous for first-ever-mysore-class on Sunday that I couldn't sleep Saturday night. Just like in SF for Guruji. Like a kid on Christmas Eve. I "hit the sack" at 9 p.m. Last peek at the clock: half past 2. I even breathed myself through all of primary in my head. Didn't skip any poses. And here's the best part about mental ashtanga: I didn't have to modify anything. I was graceful. I floated through vinyasas. I didn't muscle myself into anything. My knees didn't hurt. It was beautiful. But didn't help me fall asleep AT ALL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112354372061194919?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112354372061194919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112354372061194919' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112354372061194919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112354372061194919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/dipstick-take-2.html' title='Dipstick, TAKE 2'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112338914282137305</id><published>2005-08-06T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-06T21:37:44.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And The Winner Is....</title><content type='html'>Wow, I never knew how many of my friends actually read my blog until that last post.... I got a lot of very supportive emails, phone calls, and comments. At a time when I felt helpless and vulnerable, support flooded in. Thanks, everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left work yesterday on a mission. First, farmer's/fishermen market for a few pounds of salmon. Hurry, hurry, gotta go... gotta pee... then Rite Aid for the dipstick. Grabbed a toothbrush so as to be less conspicuous (yeah, no one will notice the EPT if I've got a Reach two pack), rushed in and out of aisles, couldn't find it, gotta go, gotta pee, WHERE IS IT!!??, starting to panic, don't want to cause a "clean-up on aisle 4.... bring a mop!" And just before I degraded myself by asking some pock-faced teen where the preg-o tests were.... I saw them. Grabbed a three-pack (one for now, two for next time), off to the register (where the cute young man wished me "the best of luck"), home, bathroom, dipstick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the long two minutes. That's all it takes now! It's like pregnancy tests are also at microwave speed these days. Once upon a time, one had real suspense. Ten minutes or longer. Now &lt;em&gt;that's&lt;/em&gt; a long time. Two minutes or ten, this was a long wait. I comforted Kula, told her I'd still love her if we had a little one. I had a flash.... a baby girl. I always thought I wanted boys..... guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then.... time for the results. And: negativo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt.... nothing, really. A little disappointed, but mostly just numb. Eh, okay. Good. No Baby. Wine with dinner. Salmon without worrying about the mercury content. Sushi any time. Caffeine. And, some day soon, a barium swallow/x ray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And still, no period. And once again, we're not talking punctuation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in other news....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day one of my French Appellations class in Solvang today with PB. I'll do a full blow-by-blow and give my personal reccomendations some other time. After class we drove into Los Olivos to meet The Republican for dinner. We had some time to kill, so we stopped in &lt;a href="http://www.losolivoscafe.com/"&gt;Los Olivos Cafe&lt;/a&gt; for a split of Laurent-Perrier at the bar. First, however, we were completely ignored for a good 15 minutes. No hello, no wine list, no menu, no eye contact. NADA. We discussed walking out on a number of occasions, but stuck it out in the end. I debated between leaving my card or leaving a crappy tip.... In the end, I left my card and a 20% tip. Not a deserved tip, but they sell a lot of our wines, and it's better to be a professional in the end....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit up &lt;a href="http://www.patrickssidestreetcafe.com/"&gt;Patrick's Side Street Cafe&lt;/a&gt; for dinner. The Republican brought a bottle of &lt;a href="http://www.rusackvineyards.com/"&gt;Rusack&lt;/a&gt; Anacapa, 85% Cab Franc, a stellar wine. The food was excellent, and Patrick is quite a character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said goodbye to PB and headed to Santa Barbara to stay at The Republican's. &lt;br /&gt;And now the butterflies are starting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow morning I'm going to my first ever Mysore class with my first ever Authorized Instructors, &lt;a href="http://eightlimbyoga.com/instructors.htm"&gt;David and Andrea Miliotis&lt;/a&gt;. And I'm terrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I know I can "hang", and it's not an ego thing.... Well, maybe it is, a little. I haven't practiced since last Sunday. &lt;Gasp&gt; What with my Ladies' Holiday which never came, stress from that, stress from my doctor stuff, and a moon day, it's been a hell of a week. If any week was to cry out for asana and meditation, this was the one. But I didn't make it happen, and I'm disappointed in myself for that. However, I haven't the energy to beat myself up, so I accept and move on. I just hope I'm not too stiff tomorrow. I can tell you one thing: My supta kurmasana won't be too convincing. I have to go pretty early. Instruction starts at 8, I've gotta get in there at about 6:45 so I can catch a 9 a.m. ride into Solvang with The Republican for Day Two of French Appellations (Burgundy! I can't wait!!). David has been extremely accomodating in our email conversations, keeping me updated with each little schedule change due to &lt;a href="http://www.oldspanishdays-fiesta.org/"&gt;Fiesta&lt;/a&gt; this weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'd be great if I hate every second of it. Then I could go back to my home practice and not think about what I'm missing by living in San Luis Obispo. Instead, I'm fairly positive that it will be a great experience, and I'll want to drive down to Santa Barbara every weekend for just one mysore practice. This is a 3 hr. drive, round trip. I'm hoping I can make it at least once a month. I think a few adjustments now and then and a stronger community connection will make a huge difference in my daily motivation and practice. Here's hoping. Wish me luck. And flexibility. Lord knows I'll be tight tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112338914282137305?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112338914282137305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112338914282137305' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112338914282137305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112338914282137305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/and-winner-is.html' title='And The Winner Is....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112320007184520771</id><published>2005-08-04T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T17:01:11.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Missing Period</title><content type='html'>I'm exhausted. Emotionally exhausted. And I'm Really feeling that new moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I fasted. This morning I put on my sweats. I grabbed enough reading material to last me 4 hours (two books and a Newsweek). I went to the diagnostic center for my barium swallow and x-ray of my upper GI and small intestines. And then I hit a bump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned ladies' holiday a few days ago. Well, I've been waiting, and it hasn't come. It should be here by now. It should have been here by Sunday. It's not here. And when one is on The Pill, one is not normally 4 days late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when the nurse said, "And you're sure you're not pregnant. Right?" I stopped. My heart stopped. I said it out loud: "I'm 4 days late."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She reacted by trying to make me feel like an infant and a slut at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurse: (giving me that up-and-down look, probably mistakingly thinking I'm 19 or 20, which happens often) Have you had unprotected sex in the past month?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Um, I'm married. And on The Pill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurse: Did you miss any?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurse:  Would you want to keep the baby if you are pregnant? Because this WILL kill a baby, if you're carrying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (Long Pause) I need a moment. Can I make a phone call? I need to call my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurse: You're too young to make this decision. (yes, she really said this) Why don't you call us when you've gotten your period and we'll reschedule the appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then escorted me to the lobby with a look of motherly concern and informed the receptionist in a non-library voice that I was late, and I would call and reschedule when my period came (the whole lobby was looking at me) because I might be pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left that place a complete and total mess. I've been a mess all day. All of my coworkers knew about my appointment, they asked me how it was. They asked me why it was postponed. I bit my lip and tried not to cry again.  Why am I so upset? I guess because I got thrown a total curve ball today. I'm so tired of the tests, I just want to get them over with and find out what's going on with me. I was even considering continuing with this morning's test at the possible cost of a baby. Well, an embryo, really. And today's the first day that I've really taken the time to consider the indication of the missing period. And I'm not talking punctuation here, folks. My thoughts at that moment with the Long Pause with the nurse: well, I want to feel healthy again. And we're just getting into building our house.... and we've only been married a year. I'm not ready for a baby. But I am ready to get a diagnosis with this whole stomach thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to The Good about it. She, of course, had some Good remarks. "It's never going to be a good time to have a baby. There's always going to be some event coming up, some financial hurdle, travelling you haven't done, someone's wedding you want to have drinks at, some wine thing.... but then it happens, and it turns out it is a good time. You're settled, you're married, you have a man who loves you very much, you've talked about having kids.... It's a good time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am buying a dipstick from the teenager at Rite-Aid this afternoon. And I'm actually more intrigued to see what my reaction is to the results than to see the results themselves. I've been here before, and it's always been negative. And I've always been pleased. How pleased will I be if it's negative this time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not many posts related to my practice as of late. So many other things going on in my head right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112320007184520771?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112320007184520771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112320007184520771' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112320007184520771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112320007184520771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/missing-period.html' title='The Missing Period'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112304269343984168</id><published>2005-08-02T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T21:18:13.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spinning in a downward spiral</title><content type='html'>Ah, yes. Spin class this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I was spinning away, thinking it couldn't get any worse.... I heard it. I used to hear it every so often when I was practicing at my gym, trying to drown out the 5 a.m. torture class .... er.... spin class..... with my tiny stereo. But never have I experienced it first hand. Much much worse first hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My inner monologue is italicized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Doo doo doo DOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh please no&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Doo doo doo DOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Doo doo doo DOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;OMFG, Kill me now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Feelin dizzy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shit, I'm going to die unhappy on a spin class. Listening to bad music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;I NEED A HERO......Holding out for a hero til the end of the night.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; need a hero. You need new music.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it went on from there. This was the worst spin class yet. The spin instructor yelling, screaming, totally intense. comical. At one point, I swear I heard him say, "You're not working hard enough unless you can taste your own bile." And I think I could. Or it could have been the Punjab Chola I had for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through, I looked around and the room was spinning. The f-ing room was spinning, not just my legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I could think about was my mat. I WANT TO BE ON MY MAT. But instead I'm on this "I want a 6-pack and I don't fit in my jeans the way I did when I was 18 and my husband subscribed to MAXIM (WTF???) so now I have to look at boobs and legs and airbrushed CRAP every time I use the john", narcissistic and self conscious  kick. Did I mention Tay subscribed to MAXIM? What is that? He says it helps him to connect to his "audience." I said it makes me sick to my stomach. Kinda like the way I feel in spin class. I also told him he got a new issue so he has something to come home to on Thursday. Not just his frumpy old wife. And I said I'm embarrassed to pick it up from the post office box. EMBARRASSED. Next time I'm leaving it IN the box, and he can pick it up HIMSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I seem to be trying new things. Not all of them are working out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spin class. See above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pilates classes. Haven't tried them in about a year. And I can feel that 6-pack lurking beneath the thin layer of womanly curves. It's coming..... I'm thinking positively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running. Another thing I haven't done in about a year. I don't think I'll try it again for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hemp Seed Protein Powder. Highly UNrecommended. Grossest thing I've ever tried. I bought that as opposed to soy or whey because it's supposed to be easier on my stomach. Maybe it would be if you didn't have to choke it down, ignoring the gag reflex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And: Leaving the dinner dishes for the next morning. Also unrecommended, but only slightly so. Tempting and a little rebellious the night of. Next morning, sticky and smelly. And one can be late to work while finishing last night's dishes. I learned my lesson. Tonight I will do my dinner dishes before hitting the sack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of hitting the sack..... I've got an extremely dark and melancholy book waiting for me in bed.  Just gotta do those dishes first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112304269343984168?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112304269343984168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112304269343984168' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112304269343984168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112304269343984168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/spinning-in-downward-spiral.html' title='Spinning in a downward spiral'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112300012769165464</id><published>2005-08-02T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T11:08:52.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>vairaagya=non-attachment</title><content type='html'>Practicing some non-attachment for ladies holiday and moonday this week. And I'm not doing a very good job of it. I feel a bit scattered and lost without my asana practice. Perhaps tomorrow I'll spend some time in seated meditation to see if this will help cure my absentmindedness. I got to work very early this morning and couldn't figure out how that had happened.... I opened the door to step out, and my dog jumped out of the car wagging her whole body (not just her tail) and instantly scanning the vineyards for birds and rabbits. WTF????...... Oh, right. I was supposed to drop her off at "doggy day care" with my in-laws. Completely forgot. I need an espresso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday's sonogram went well. As I watched my liver and my kidneys appear on the screen, I had a fleeting wish that it was a baby I was looking at, instead of boring  organs. Fleeting. Emphasis on the FLEETING. No time or money for babies. Not yet, anyways. The nurse gave me some helpful "insider" tips for this Thursday's barium swallow, as she had had one the month before. Here they are, just in case any of you out there ever have to go through one of these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bring an altoid and slip it in your mouth after your "cocktail" when the nurse isn't looking to take the bad taste out of your mouth. She asked the doctor, who said this wouldn't affect the outcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Wear metal free clothes: sweatpants, sports bra, loose fitting top. Then you won't have to sit around in a backless gown for four hours in the hall way. And wear warm clothes. Diagnostic Centers are cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bring books to read, crossword puzzles to do, anything that will keep you busy for anywhere from 45 minutes to 4 hours. (I'm excited at the prospect of sitting for 4 hours and being forced to read a book! This is exactly the activity that I crave, yet rarely find time for in my daily life. I have stacks and stacks of books just ready for the reading.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Drink it fast. Chug-a-lug. Bottoms UP. Don't sip it, or you'll gag. Think "Fear Factor" on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoo boy. She made it sound like a trip to Disneyland. Gee golly, I can't wait. Ummm.... doctor? I'm suddenly feeling much better.... It's a MIRACLE! Please don't make me swallow barium....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday's class was my last class with Jenn, as I have a french wines class to attend this weekend (hooray for burgundy!), so will miss her real farewell class. It was sad of course, but I know I will see her again. Big step with the knee injuries: brought my leg into half lotus on both sides in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/02-Ardha-Baddha-Padmottanasana.html"&gt;Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana&lt;/a&gt; for the first time in months. MONTHS, people. Bound, but did not bend forward. Small steps. This was the only asana I would risk half lotus. I'm petrified of reinjury. Seems like every time I think I'm golden, ow.... I did it again. Ahimsa ahimsa ahimsa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still struggling with Supta Kurmasana: Jenn helped me to touch my fingers but I couldn't grasp them. I could almost touch the palm of my opposite hand but I couldn't get the wrist turn.... I'll get there..... someday. Backbends felt great, for the first time since Taylor left(waaaaay back on July 19th). Also for the first time since then, I felt it was possible to stand up and drop back. Jenn assisted me on my first stand-up, then I dropped back on my exhale, inhaled, stood up, exhaled, dropped back, all on my own. Wow, using the breath is exhilirating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to a pilates class yesterday, just for kicks. And that's some tough stuff. I can't decide whether a weekly pilates class would help or hinder my practice. Good for the bandhas, good for Navasana, but perhaps tightens the hips a bit....  Thoughts, anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to feel quite lonely without Tay around.... it is amazing how connected and grounded we become with that certain someone. I could hang out with a room full of people and still feel lonely at this point. I don't like coming home to an empty house after a long day at work. I don't like cooking for just me. I don't like locking up the house at night. I don't like sleeping alone. Of course, I was fine doing all of these things when I was single.... minus the locking up the house part. I'm a little afraid of the boogey man. Or the burglar/rapist. What can I say? I watch too much Law &amp; Order SVU.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112300012769165464?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112300012769165464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112300012769165464' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112300012769165464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112300012769165464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/08/vairaagyanon-attachment.html' title='vairaagya=non-attachment'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112261615139203414</id><published>2005-07-28T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T22:49:11.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirsty.</title><content type='html'>It's all mental. I'm in bed, ready for an early morning alarm: 4:40 for practice, 7:45 at the doctor's. I'm parched. Or am I? Is it really all mental? "No food or water after 10 p.m." Dr.'s orders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been beating myself up a bit lately about a little gut that's going on. Not that it's huge or anything.... but I was 135 when they weighed me in at the Doc's. Now, I don't pay much attention to pounds. I've always been heavy for my size.... heavy bones maybe, and more muscle mass then most girls, I guess. But I do pay attention to waist bands. And mine have been a wee bit tight. I can't afford new clothes, so only one thing left to do: lose that gut. While yoga does the job, I don't really want to "amp it up" just for the sake of losing weight. So I'm adding in some cardio here and there. Today was supposed to be Spin Class. When I got home, it was such a beautiful afternoon. And my poor dog had just spent another day alone in the backyard. So off we went for a hike instead of a cramped room, annoying techno, and a tiny, chafing bicycle seat. I changed my mind when I got to the mountain. Hike? No..... not a hike. How bout a run? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RUN???? Sacrilege. I haven't ran in almost a year. I used to run quite a bit, I really enjoyed it, and probably strided about 15-20 miles a week. But I gave it up for yoga. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The run was good, I stretched for about 35 minutes afterwards. I love running or hiking with my pup. It's great to see her with her natural birding instincts taking over: pointing, stalking, flushing out quail from bushes.... But she really pissed off a mama turkey who chased her off, gobbling and squawking. That was a sight to see. Kula was in heaven until she got home. The poor girl picked up every bur on the mountain. First she had to suffer the dreaded brush. And if that wasn't bad enough, then she had a bath. She's still giving me dirty looks. And my knees are a little angry at me as well. I cheated a bit on the run, only ran uphill and walked the downhills. Less strain on my knees. Any ashtangis out there who run? I'd love to hear your thoughts on it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to bed. I'm feeling a little frightened tonight after watching a Tivo'd scary episode of LOST. I'm so hooked on that show. Plus, I've always had an eensy bit of a crush on Matthew Fox. He's a cutie. Hopefully I can fall asleep and no bad dreams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just dreams about Matthew....&lt;img src="http://www.ewanted.com/img/1108713600/_w/111876/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;er..... I mean.... dreams about Taylor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos21.flickr.com/29401782_18578135d7.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look, he's rolling his eyes at me all the way from Oklahoma! God I miss that guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112261615139203414?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112261615139203414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112261615139203414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112261615139203414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112261615139203414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/thirsty.html' title='Thirsty.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112257442155652147</id><published>2005-07-28T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T11:13:41.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DARN YOU, KJS!!!!!</title><content type='html'>My workplace productivity has plummeted due to some "friendly" competition with &lt;a href="http://gprime.net/game.php/gridlock"&gt;this game&lt;/a&gt;. I'm currently at a stand-still on level 25. If anyone has any tips for this level.... I could use them. KJS isn't talking. I have to get to level 40, and then we start over, keep score, and may the best gridlocker win. I have to admit, I'm a little intimidated by her. So she has the edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Made herbed carrot soup last night from the Moosewood Cookbook. Just in time, too, since I had pounds of carrots from my CSA. Did I mention I got beets last week? Hell yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped by my natural foods grocery store to pick up some supplements: Daily Foods Blood Builder (Iron among other things), Balanced B Complex, and Living Harvest Hemp Protein. $80!!!!!! But they're all food derived and raw, so will not upset my stomach as much. The priciest was the protein powder, but it's easier on my system than the less expensive whey, rice, and soy versions. Hemp Seeds..... Wow, I feel like such a hippy. I had to promise my coworkers that Yes, I still shave my body hair, and Yes, I still wear deodorant, and No, I don't wear patchouli and never will. Brings back bad memories of downtown Santa Cruz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tay's driving through Kansas right now, hopefully he'll be back next Thursday. Here we go, on to week two with an empty house and lots of fruits and vegetables. I'm thinking of hosting a feast on Saturday. Indian and Thai food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the asana front.... I need Tay to come home so my back can feel better. Urdva Dhanurasana is killing me lately, and drop backs and stand ups are just distant memories at this point. I wasn't feeling very strong this morning. And not very flexible either. So I just cruised through practice with thoughts of better mornings nagging in the back of my monkey mind. I gouged my right ankle with my left toenail in Bhujapindasana. Ouch, it smarts. Knees are still sore, still modifying all lotus poses. But in spite of physical limitations and shortcomings, each day this week I've just been pleased to be on my mat, pleased with my personal dedication to the practice, and have just been feeling groovy all around. Special thanks to Vanessa, &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/vanessa/archives/002245.html#comments"&gt;her post&lt;/a&gt; on personal ownership of one's happiness really hit home, and I've been walking with a lighter step and a happier heart since reading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favorite Asana of the day: Marichyasana C. Felt oh so good to release my spine a bit.&lt;br /&gt;Dreaded Asana of the day: Urdva Dhanurasana. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got two appointments scheduled at the Diagnostic Center. Tomorrow is the sonogram of my upper GI and small intestines. Next Thursday will be the barium swallow. Nurse says, "The appointment will be anywhere from 45 minutes to 4 hours," which I thought was a bit comedic. Reminiscent of the repair man who will be at your house sometime between 8 a.m. and 1 p.m.. Told work I would be in sometime between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the crew from the Goleta trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos23.flickr.com/27857212_784eda8c7a.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clockwise from top left, that's The Pelt, The Feisty One, me, The Hungry One, and a terrible picture of my friend who will be known as The Smilemaker (she makes teeth for crowns, caps, and bridgework). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the iPod: The Shivers, "Boat"&lt;br /&gt;             Carissa's Wierd, "The Piano Song"&lt;br /&gt;             Blue States, "Across the Wire"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112257442155652147?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112257442155652147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112257442155652147' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112257442155652147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112257442155652147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/darn-you-kjs.html' title='DARN YOU, KJS!!!!!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112235656046749920</id><published>2005-07-25T22:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T06:34:09.956-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Results</title><content type='html'>I had my appointment this afternoon to find out the results to my lab tests. No results. Almost everything came back normal. Which I suppose is good, when one is being tested for colon cancer, intestinal cancer, anemia, gall stones, celiac disease, and gastrointestinal disease. This was my line of thinking when I said, "well, that's good, right?" Not exactly, says the doc, because we still don't know what's wrong with you. So, the tests will continue with a sonogram and a barium cocktail followed by an x-ray. Radioactive chemicals? Bring it on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this: there were elevated levels of some higgledypoo (don't remember the fancy name)in my blood. What could this indicate? It could indicate some problems in the liver. However, all of my other tests indicated a normally functioning liver. It could also indicate skeletal or muscular bruising or tears. Read: YOGA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the next round of tests come up blank as well, then I will be diagnosed with IBS: Irritable Bowell Syndrome. No test for this doozey. This is what they use to label you when they've run out of blood work-ups and other bodily samples to extract and test so that you don't feel like everything you've just gone through is in vain. No, just kidding. It just feels like that. But it's really very common. For now, I've been prescribed Nexxium (the purple pill!) and two heaping spoonfuls of Metamucil twice daily. Blechh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a new bully on the block pushing Kula around. I suppose it serves her right. She chases birds all day long, hunts them, stalks them, tries (fruitlessly) to eat them..... One bird has had enough. This bird is fighting back, tooth and nail. Or beak and claw. My poor little girl is afraid to venture out of our safe haven into the big scary world: the backyard. Each time she does, this bird is lurking, waiting, to swoop down and chase her all around the yard until she is jumping, scratching and whining, tail between the legs, at the back door. And this is my guard dog. Good thing we're moving out of this terrible Riff-Raff-tough-bird neighborhood soon. Hopefully up in Paso Robles, birds understand that dogs chase them, it's not the other way around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112235656046749920?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112235656046749920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112235656046749920' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112235656046749920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112235656046749920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/results.html' title='Results'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112206755014744460</id><published>2005-07-22T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T14:25:50.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Rebellion.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.prana.com/storefront/images/products/W1OGRA_Blossom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.prana.com/storefront/images/products/W1OGRA_Blossom.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...... against the non-yoga establishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shhh..... I wore one of my prana yoga tanks to work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one more reason to do handstands and other assorted arm balances in my office. No one can stop me now. Except maybe my boss, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112206755014744460?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112206755014744460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112206755014744460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112206755014744460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112206755014744460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/secret-rebellion.html' title='Secret Rebellion.....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112206629018105470</id><published>2005-07-22T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T14:04:50.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ups and Downs</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I told everyone that it was a special day.... that it was Guruji's 90th birthday!!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It meant nothing to any of them. Here's a sample of one conversation with my coworker... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEM: "Who's Guruji?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: "He's that guy that I have a picture of on my desk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEM: "I thought that was your husband...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: "No, the other picture.... the one I went to see in San Francisco.... My guru."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEM: "Don't you think it's weird that you have a guru?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: "You have &lt;a href="http://www.erobertparker.com/"&gt;Robert Parker&lt;/a&gt;, I have Pattabhi Jois."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEM: "Who's Pattabhi Jois?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I got up at 4:45, laid back down, got up, brushed my teeth, laid back down, then got back up again in a huff, angry at myself for trying to go back to bed. I almost didn't make it to my mat. What got me up? &lt;a href="http://arjunalistens.blogspot.com/"&gt;Another self-practicing ashtangi&lt;/a&gt; who seems to be much more disciplined than yours truly. A newbie in our &lt;a href="http://ashtangi.net/"&gt;blogger community&lt;/a&gt;. If he can do it, so can I. If I had a shala to practice at, I'm convinced I would have no problem eking out a 6-day practice week. Of course, I have no way of testing this hypothesis..... but if I have people who expect to see me somewhere, I'm there. No one expects to see me in my living room at 5 a.m. except myself. And apparently I'm a softie for the worst of excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But enough feeling sorry for myself, I made it to my mat. And I'll practice Saturday to make up for Monday's nausea, so that will make 5 practices and a moonday/birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning was a slow practice. My friend Yellow asked me to teach a yoga class before her wedding, she's having one of those 3 day wedding celebrations where there's kayaking and a beach bonfire and horseback riding and yoga.... When she told me there'd be yoga I got all excited.... then she asked me to teach it. Anything for Yellow, but then I started analyzing what kind of verbal cues I would give while I was in each pose.... how I would modify it for beginners.... what it felt like to try the asana with said modifications...... Hence I ran out of time when I reached Baddha Konasana. But it felt really nice working with the asanas on a different, less rushed level. I held my chatwari's for an extra second or two a la Guruji, and that burned but I could use the extra strength. It's funny, at night sometimes before bed I'll do tricep push ups and regular push ups. Tay's amazed at my tricep strength. :) And he chides me. "Why are you doing more push ups? You don't need push ups. Why don't you strengthen another area?" He's right, of course. I should be doing Navasanas and sit ups. I need more bandha strength. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bhujapidasana was the highlight of my practice this morning. It's starting to make sense and really starting to come together for me. Lowlight was backbends, which I usually love and can't wait to get to. I may have mentioned this before: I must sleep funny when Tay's out of town, because my back HURTS in the mornings. It's almost like I sleep with my back arched all night. Nothing sings to me like paschimottanasana on these mornings. So three painful Urdva Dhanurasanas and nothing was loosening up there. So no standing up or dropping back. I don't think I could have stood up without help. Dropping back would have been fine, but I always feel like I'm cheating if I don't stand up for a drop back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the food front, I've finally started my hemoccult. I'll be done with it on Saturday, and hopefully will turn it into the lab that morning. I'm also beginning to have my first meat cravings. Today at lunch, here's what I wanted: roasted chicken with lemon and rosemary. Here's what I ate instead: A salad with goat cheese and dry roasted edamame, baba ganoush on ok mak crackers and cucumber slices, and a vegan santa fe bean and veggie patty with a red pepper coulis. And voila.... no more craving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm going home. I think it's strange that I still call my parent's house in Santa Cruz "home." I've lived in San Luis Obispo for 8 years, I now have a husband and a full time job here, and we're building a house here. But Santa Cruz is still considered "home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I'm going home just for one night. As I mentioned earlier, my childhood best friend and neighbor was recently diagnosed with Celiac Disease, which is genetic. She decided to get tested for it when her sister had a very scary near-death experience with the disease last month, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;and her sister didn't even know she had it&lt;/span&gt;.  Her doctor kept treating her for anemia. It wasn't getting any better. One day, she just collapsed. Rushed to the hospital. In and out of consciousness. Doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. Very scary time for her and her family. Now that she's been diagnosed, she can make a full recovery just by avoiding gluten. So our Santa Cruz neighbors are celebrating with a big back-yard bash. Catered gluten free, of course. I can't wait to see their family. Their father got licensed for the day and was our officiant at our wedding. They were like my second family up until 6th grade or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then back to SLO on Sunday early enough for 11 a.m. led primary.... 2nd to last class! :( We're taking Jenn out for lunch afterwards as a send-off. There might be some tears, although I'm not much of a sap in that way so they won't be rolling down my cheeks.... I don't think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112206629018105470?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112206629018105470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112206629018105470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112206629018105470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112206629018105470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/ups-and-downs.html' title='Ups and Downs'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112205426586940506</id><published>2005-07-22T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T10:44:25.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears for Zimbabwe's Homeless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;From BBC News, 7/22/05&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/4706115.stm"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;UN condemns Zimbabwe slum blitz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A major UN report has called for an immediate end to Zimbabwe's slum clearance programme, declaring it to be in violation of international law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The scale of suffering is immense," it said. About 700,000 people have lost their homes or livelihoods and another 2.4 million people have been affected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/spl/hi/pop_ups/05/africa_enl_1119001870/img/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://news.bbc.co.uk/nol/shared/spl/hi/pop_ups/05/africa_enl_1119001870/img/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is devastating. How could a government force 700,000 people, women, children, families, already poverty stricken, into homelessness with no aid and no shelter?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112205426586940506?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112205426586940506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112205426586940506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112205426586940506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112205426586940506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/tears-for-zimbabwes-homeless.html' title='Tears for Zimbabwe&apos;s Homeless'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112195484439320306</id><published>2005-07-21T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T07:07:24.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The OTHER Blog</title><content type='html'>Okay yogablog, now you know you're first in my heart. But sometimes a girl just needs to let loose and have a little fun with her friends, you know? Nothing serious, just a good time. What? You're jealous of the &lt;a href="http://72ongodhike.blogspot.com/2005/07/k-i-s-s-i-n-g.html"&gt;Churro Box&lt;/a&gt;? Uh, no.... no..... Churros mean nothing to me. Really. Nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I can't hide it anymore. I love Churros. They're warm and sweet and comforting. No, I love you too. It's just.... different, you know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112195484439320306?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112195484439320306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112195484439320306' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112195484439320306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112195484439320306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/other-blog.html' title='The OTHER Blog'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112183952094194657</id><published>2005-07-20T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T06:49:31.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Advice and confusion</title><content type='html'>Last night, at the end of another gluten free day, I physically felt great. But emotionally, I felt burdened. Lunch was agony. PB and I went to a deli, and I ate the two things from the menu that were gluten free. Unfortunately, one of them was not lactose free (Caprese salad), but I just popped a few lactase pills and enjoyed the bocconcini mozzarella like the good Italian I am. After a gut-wrenching sushi session this evening, (no tataki, no tempura, no eel sauce, B.Y.O.-Wheat free tamari) I got a message from my mom. My mother spoke to a good friend of ours whose daughters were both just recently diagnosed as Celiacs. She mentioned that I just had some tests done, was waiting for the results, and had began to cut out gluten in the mean time. Our friend said I should continue eating a normal diet until I get the tests back in case further testing needs to take place. If I cut out gluten, and I am suffering from Celiac disease, it could go undetected in further blood tests or biopsy. I don't necessarily agree with this rationale, since I've been ingesting gluten all my life. It's not just going to drop off the radar overnight. But, in the name of science, I suppose I'll continue eating normally until all of my tests are concluded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home from work yesterday chanting. What was I chanting? "Full Primary." I was attempting to motivate myself. Afternoon and evening practices are always challenging for me. At 5 a.m., there aren't many distractions. There's nothing I'd rather be doing, besides sleeping. No friends asking if I want to meet them for drinks, no dinner to be made, no dog begging to be walked, no glass of wine calling my name. That's a lot to compete with. And my afternoon practices usually get cut short on account of all this. Last night, however, I was gung-ho. And practice was pretty good. My right knee just does NOT want to heal, so I'm still modifying, but my hips are opening up nicely so I'll have less chance of reinjury once I'm completely healed. Before I started, I had brought over two blocks to possibly play with in jumpbacks. But after one jumpback, I ditched them. Too bulky, too foreign, jumpbacks should not be my focus in this practice. It seems like we spend so much of our time and energy working towards that floaty straight-legged jump through or perfect "look-Ma-no-feet" jumpback, and this is just a smoother transition for vinyasa. These are just embellishments. And while the strength gained through jumpbacks and jumpthroughs could help the rest of our practice, shouldn't it happen the other way around? Shouldn't our practice help our jumpbacks and jumpthroughs? Or maybe all of these thoughts stem from my own inability to jump through with straight legs (I do have a floaty jump through, but I land cross-legged) and to lift off and float back (I lift off and cheat a little as my feet drag the ground to jump back).  Hmmmm.... Oh, the vanities of Ashtanga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Purvottanasana felt strange last night, til I realized why. My hands were too close to my hips when I pushed back. Well, I thought, this has not happened before. I came back down, corrected myself, inhaled back up, oh yes, much better. Navasanas were hard. I'm definitely noticing improvement, though. Kurmasana was great. My shoulders and collarbones were on the ground, my feet were off the ground, and I wasn't panicking. I don't always panic in this pose, just once in a while when I'm working my feet off the ground. Supta Kurmasana...... some of you may want to look away...... since this truly is my "help me, please somebody just pull my hands together" asana, I've enlisted some help. But since noone's around and my dog has no thumbs, and the neighbors already think I'm wierd and they haven't even seen my supta kurmasana, I used a strap yesterday. &lt;gasp&gt;. It did help, and I was able to get a one finger bind without slipping. Note that it took me a good 15 breaths before I got this. By 5 I had my feet crossed. Then I was working with my breath, pushing my shoulders out from beneath my knees. By 10 my hands could feel eachother along the strap. Finally..... success with my index fingers. If I was in Guruji's led primary, I wouldn't even come close to approximating this pose. Thank goodness for home practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night at sushi, my friend The Bald One came with us. He's one of those guys who's gung ho on anything he gets into. He teaches spin class, he teaches 6 classes a week. He goes to yoga classes, he goes to 7 classes a week, often twice in one day. He gets a tattoo, suddenly he's got 6 tattoo's. Etc. He started coming to Sunday's led primary class about 6 months ago. And he's really improved in his asana. But I'm not sure if he's adopted, or even knows about, the other 7 limbs of Yoga. Last night he told me about his new business venture. Yogaslut.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT????!!!!! Try as I might, I couldn't hide my complete disgust. YOGASLUT? It's basically a website which sells yoga clothes emblazoned with the word, mats, props, etc. But.... &lt;gulp&gt;..... yogaslut? This, to me, is evidence of what's wrong with the perception of Yoga in the west. It seems to me that this is the antithesis to yoga.  So last night when I got home, I tried to work through where my offense stemmed from, since everyone else at the table seemed to think it hilarious. I find the word "slut" incredibly insulting and degrading. But why should I? Is it culture? &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=slut"&gt;Dictionary.com&lt;/a&gt; defines slut as a woman considered sexually promiscuous, or a female prostitute, or a dirty, untidy woman.  Interesting how all of these definitions exclude men. What's a male slut called? He used to be called a stud, although I think that may be changing. Maybe these days, he'd be called emotionally unavailable. Of course, The Bald One is not using the word in relation to sex.  He's using it as labeling someone who loves yoga. I think on occasion I've labeled myself as a "Sushi whore." But sushi is not the same as yoga to me. Sushi is a bit glutenous and rowdy (sometimes) and it's a treat. Sushi is something to take lightly. Yoga is what I strive to be every day.  I'm positive "yogaslut" goes against at least one of the 8 limbs. Hmmm.... I think I'll ponder this further in the shower. Must start my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112183952094194657?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112183952094194657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112183952094194657' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112183952094194657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112183952094194657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/advice-and-confusion.html' title='Advice and confusion'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112179626514940836</id><published>2005-07-19T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T11:04:25.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gluten Free, DAY 2</title><content type='html'>Okay, first let me say &lt;a href="http://gfkitchen.server101.com/FoodstoAvoid1.htm"&gt;NO SOY SAUCE???!!!!&lt;/a&gt; Oh good lord, who'd have thought soy sauce had wheat in it?! And no MISO??? This is really hard. Really, really hard. Good news: I can eat yam flour. Which means Sukiyaki is still a possibility, with gluten free soy sauce, of course. More Good news: There are more and more gluten-free products available every day as more and more americans are finding gluten intolerances in their own families and selves.  Just type in "gluten free foods" on Google. And here's what you get: &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=gluten+free+foods&amp;sourceid=mozilla-search&amp;amp;start=0&amp;start=0&amp;amp;ie=utf-8&amp;oe=utf-8&amp;amp;client=firefox-a&amp;rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official"&gt;Lots of online resources.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also noticed a few inconsistincies. Some sites say quinoa is okay, some say it's not. So which is it, folks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not feeling 100% back to my normal self (I hardly remember normal), but I woke up nausea free this morning. The one thing I noticed yesterday was that I felt pretty anemic, but that's probably because I had to stop taking my iron supplement for the hemoccult test. I was still dealing with a little bit of bloating, but that could be the dollop of sour cream I put on my taco salad last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached for the ketchup this morning at &lt;a href="http://www.gayot.com/restaurantpages/info.php?tag=CCRES001075&amp;amp;code=CC"&gt;Bon Temps Creole Cafe&lt;/a&gt;, then remembered..... not gluten free. I'll have to bring a substitute in my purse. Same with soy sauce. Good thing I carry a &lt;a href="http://www.ellingtonleather.com/product_detail.lasso?-token.product_section=Lightweight%20Travel&amp;-token.modelline=The%20Traveling%20Woman&amp;amp;-token.skip=3"&gt;duffel bag&lt;/a&gt; instead of a purse. I also was initially disappointed when I realized I probably couldn't eat the fried green tomatoes I usually ordered. But I asked for the ingredients anyways. Corn meal and masa flour! So &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; why they taste vaguely like corn dogs minus the dogs. I was in like Flynn. Damn that place is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tay left for two weeks today, very sad indeed. But simplifies my cooking, as I don't have to worry about satisfying his carnivorous needs. Time to break out the new vegetarian thai cookbook and invite over a few friends. WOOHOO! Also good that he's gone for the whole hemoccult process, as it is sure to be quite unromantic indeed. It's good to keep some mystery in a relationship, I think. Not much, but some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112179626514940836?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112179626514940836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112179626514940836' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112179626514940836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112179626514940836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/gluten-free-day-2.html' title='Gluten Free, DAY 2'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112179293898186768</id><published>2005-07-19T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T10:08:59.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A very thoughtful comment on the great "Good Question" debacle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I recall a line from the Tao Te Ching to the effect that when we oppose something, we strengthen it. I think of two applications of this at the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1-- I suspect that it takes quite a bit of effort to shape oneself into a suicide bomber or a killer in the pursuit of one's goals, and I rather suspect that it most happens in places where people can't get jobs, support families, live a normal life. It was that environment that shaped bombers in Tsarist Russia. It was that environment of unemployment that sharpened conflict in Northern Ireland. In Saudi Arabia--despite its oil wealth--it's the same situation: lots of young men can't get work. That was the source of our 9/11 bombers. People who are working full time for a living, who have children and responsible sexual outlets, people who have the feeling that they can plan for a reasonable future, such people are much less likely to internalize extremist viewpoints. To my way of thinking, until we arrange our foreign policy in such a way that those people who feel themselves dispossessed can be part of a productive society with hopeful lives, the extremists will be successful in drawing new recruits. What we need to do is to act so that young Saudis (et al.) have the opportunity for employment, marriage, family life. In the end, that's what most people want for themselves, and it's what is most helpful for peaceful maturation. If we conduct a war on extremists without addressing why they are extreme, then we strengthen their extremism. If we help our unemployed brothers and sisters to find employment, then they will be so busy with work, pleasing their bosses, making homes and raising families that--I'm guessing--most of our brothers and sisters will not be tempted to internalize extremist viewpoints. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2-- When discussing political issues that we feel strongly about, we commonly revert to an "us versus them" mentality. It's awfully easy to do. Heck, it's the default mode of human socialization: we tend to group into self-similar sets by race, interest, religion, profession. As soon as we apply labels like "Republican, Democrat, simp, you people", we are probably operating internally in an us-versus-them mode. Perhaps it is best at those times to read what we are about to post, and then rephrase the dicey bits into "thought x isn't convincing to me because" or "fact y makes me think z". That way, instead of strengthening the us-versus-them in our readers, we might encourage thoughtfulness about things our readers have not yet considered, and they might do the same service to us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don, thank you for your wisdom. I am continuously humbled, inspired, and strengthened by the comments of my readers. (Who'd have thought I would have readers?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my blog to document my journey with yoga. It's become a journal for me. An outlet in every sense of the word. I never imagined that anyone would want to READ it. However, I'm so thankful to my readers. When I need support the most, I find it here, whether it be beet-empathy, dietary questions, political support, or a good kick in the pants to get back on my mat and back to my breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On days when the last thing I want to do is step onto my mat, I read a few ashtangi blogs. The dedication of others, some living half way around the world, most I've never even met,  motivates me as if they're right there asking me to practice. While I'm not proud to say I need this as my "crutch" some days, I know I can't do this on my own. (At least, not yet) And admitting this is, I think, surrendering and is something that is much more difficult and powerful to give in to than my pride and my independence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112179293898186768?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112179293898186768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112179293898186768' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112179293898186768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112179293898186768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/very-thoughtful-comment-on-great-good.html' title=''/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112170760897199253</id><published>2005-07-18T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T10:28:35.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SO STUPID!</title><content type='html'>Still taking my lab tests. I have my appointment for my test results next monday.&lt;br /&gt;Today was the day I was going to start my hemoccult, since last monday was the last time I took an anti-inflammatory. Lab test requirements: no red meat or anti-inflammatories for a week, no vitamin C from supplements or citrus fruits for 3 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the in-laws for dinner last night. And had some steak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;UGH! SO STUPID!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I called the lab, they said I only have to wait for 4 days before I start the test. But now I have to change my appointment. So I'll be in the dark for even longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is day one of a trial gluten-free diet. I'm thinking of starting a food blog to document my journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and this morning I was so nauseas I could barely move. Was it the steak, I wonder?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112170760897199253?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112170760897199253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112170760897199253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112170760897199253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112170760897199253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/so-stupid.html' title='SO STUPID!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112143524592439226</id><published>2005-07-15T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T06:47:25.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Testing</title><content type='html'>Year of Nausea strikes again. Bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so last night I tackled the grossest two of all the lab tests. And I still feel dirty. But at least those two are out of the way. Those were the ones I was really dreading. So now I have to wait til Monday for the other three tests, then I'll be done with it (for this go around, anyways) on Wednesday. Then I have my follow up appointment to discuss the results on July 26th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday night I got sucked in to watching 30 Days after I "went to bed." Consequently, I didn't shut my eyes until after midnight. But what a great show! For those of you who haven't seen it, definitely check it out. Next week's is the season finale, and I'm a little remiss that I hadn't found it earlier, but it's TV. So how bummed can I be about that? Plus it's on so late. Definitely a Tivo candidate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to my late night partying with the TV, no asana Thursday morning. And I was meeting friends for sushi Thursday directly from work. So now I just feel guilty. I'm practicing this afternoon, then I'll throw in an extra practice on Saturday to get my 6 days in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was anyone following the Great Debate going on in my comments on the Good Question entry? Oh man, I was getting FIRED UP! I'm glad it's apparently over. I do relish a good political discussion now and then, but this blog is my haven. And I guess I just never expected to be challenged by a conservative on its pages. Of course it's great to get different viewpoints and to celebrate diverse opinion...... but I'm still glad it's over. Well, wherever Anonymous is now, I wish her well, and apologize for calling her brainwashed. That was petty of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112143524592439226?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112143524592439226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112143524592439226' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112143524592439226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112143524592439226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/testing.html' title='Testing'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112132115164672504</id><published>2005-07-13T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T23:05:51.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God Help Me.</title><content type='html'>Gave my blood this morning. And was given several vials and smear pads to take home for other bodily substances. Oh good gracious. I'm on a special diet for one test. No anti-inflammatories, no supplements, no caffeine, no red meat, and very little vitamin c, none of which can be obtained through the consumption of citrus fruits. For a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I do is think about this crap now (no pun intended). I wonder what's wrong with me where as before, it was just a fact of life. Oh, I'm not feeling well. What's new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading up on Celiac disease, which my childhood next door neighbor and her sister were just recently diagnosed with. I don't think that's what I have, but I guess it's best to brace yourself for the worst. One of the side effects of Celiac disease is lactose intolerance. Which I suffer from. This isn't really that big of a coincidence, as lactose intolerance is very common. But what got me a little excited was this little tidbit: Those lactose intolerant celiacs who quit eating gluten usually find themselves cured of their lactose intolerance. So which is better? Gluten or dairy? I'd say gluten would be the most difficult to avoid, and at least with lactose intolerance I can just take some lactase pills to aid digestion.... but then I think about ice cream. and cheese. and a big tall glass of milk. I haven't had one of those in about 7 years. And god, does that sound great. Not great enough to sacrifice gluten for it, mind you. But, at least if it is Celiac, there's a silver lining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to practice today, but not until much later than usual. It was almost 7 in the evening by the time I got home from work and changed into my favorite Prana pants (always motivating). As a result of the late hour and the length of time which had passed since my last meal (12 p.m.), I was extremely weak and drowning out the growls of my stomach with my breath proved difficult. I skipped vinyasas between sides and instead did a straight legged lift. My twists in Parvrrta Trikonasana, parvrrita parsvokonasana, marichyasana B and marichyasana D were cakewalks. Kukkutasana, Bhujapindasana, and Uth Pluthi were another story. My body felt light, but my arms felt like noodles just hanging at my sides. On a positive note, I have successfully added drop backs and stand ups back into my repetoire. And today's were some of the best yet.  The rest of my finishing was interesting. I slept wrong on my neck last night (Tay's out of town, and apparently I sleep funny when he's gone), so it was killing me today throughout salamba sarvanghasana, halasana, and sirsasana. And I'm really not putting pressure on it, it's just stiff when I point my head downward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No beets again this week. And once again, on my newsletter, they dangle that little carrot (well, beet actually) saying next week's harvest will include..... beets. But I know better than to get my hopes up now. I've become weary and jaded of their tricks. We did get melon, blackberries, purple beans (which turn green when you cook them, unfortunately), tomatoes, cucumbers, and magda squash. Among other things. Those were the highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched Lemony Snickett tonight while I ate my magda squash and purple beans, which were actually green (what a hoax!). I thoroughly enjoyed it. I especially loved Meryl Streep's character.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112132115164672504?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112132115164672504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112132115164672504' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112132115164672504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112132115164672504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/god-help-me.html' title='God Help Me.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112120517376763764</id><published>2005-07-12T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T19:40:27.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rock star fantasies</title><content type='html'>Flash back to Sunday late morning sitting at brunch at Big Sky with my parents staring at a vegan bean burger wondering how the hell I'm going to eat it without having it come back up again. My mom asked where I went the night before. Well, where didn't I go? I tried to remember all the bars, came up with three of them, only to add another one a little later that I had forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do this every so often. I go out with friends, usually sans husband, and suddenly get an inclination to party like a rock star (A mellow rock star, mind you, who keeps all her clothes on, smokes no cigarettes, does no drugs, and holds a martini in one hand and a large glass of water in the other).  Only to wonder the next morning who the hell I thought I was the night before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no class for me on Sunday, which really pissed me off since it's one of three more ashtanga classes EVER with my current instructor (read: only ashtanga instructor currently residing in San Luis Obispo county) who, while she is not certified or authorized, is all I have, all I've ever had. So I moped around for most of the day on Sunday coming down hard on myself, yet enjoying the company of my loving parents who had driven down for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, I did get up and practiced with the Dental Assistant at the gym. It felt great to be back on my mat. My breath was even, I felt fairly strong, my kurmasana was deep, and I was happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon I finally went to see another doctor regarding The Year of Nausea and all the other stomach problems I've been complaining of. For those of you just tuning in, I reference them &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/playing-catch-up.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/strange-things.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/03/yoga-fun-day.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/04/in-ink.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/sushi-to-rescue.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/fishy.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/losing-steam.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. If that seems like a lot of posts to list, it's also a lot of days of not feeling right. And those are just the times I felt bad enough to complain about it. My dad mentioned gluten intolerance, which makes a little sense. The doctor said this could be a possibility, but also mentioned about 6 other things that could be wrong with me.... In any case, I have to go in tomorrow to the lab for some blood work up and a stool sample. Nice. I am glad that he didn't dismiss it as a virus, as the last doctor did. Also great that he didn't try to get me to take yet another pregnancy test. I am thrilled to get to the bottom of all this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112120517376763764?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112120517376763764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112120517376763764' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112120517376763764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112120517376763764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/rock-star-fantasies.html' title='rock star fantasies'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112120145197852328</id><published>2005-07-12T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T13:50:51.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Question.....</title><content type='html'>From &lt;a href="http://cunningrealist.blogspot.com/2005/07/mendacity-never-sleeps.html"&gt;The Cunning Realist&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On September 12, 2001, what would you have said if I told you that in 2005 the two main organizers of 9/11 would be living freely within the borders of one of our allies and casually releasing videotapes, Bush would mention Bin Laden's name only a handful of times over the next four years including statements like "I truly am not that concerned about him", and it was left to Democrats like Harry Reid to keep the flame of outrage alive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you have believed me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you're a Republican and the current facts were the same except Al Gore had been president for the past four and a half years, what would you be saying right now?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112120145197852328?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112120145197852328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112120145197852328' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112120145197852328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112120145197852328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/good-question.html' title='Good Question.....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112118571405958297</id><published>2005-07-12T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T09:28:34.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Arachniphobia strikes again.</title><content type='html'>There's a large black widow in the mail box at work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is day two of her hold on me. Yesterday she charged me when I went to grab the mail. Actually, she probably was heading for her web for safety, but it felt like she was charging me. So I didn't grab the mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's not even hiding. She's just taunting me in her messy web, guarding the letters like they belong to her, licking her chops, just waiting to sink her little fangs into my flesh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping the mail man would kill her for me. Guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm gonna throw up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spiders give me serious gag reflex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you're going to say. She's more afraid of me than I am of her, right? Well, I highly doubt it. I wonder if she feels like throwing up every time she sees me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked one of the fearless landscape guys if he would get rid of it. He asked me whether I wanted him to kill it, or catch it and let it go elsewhere. I hesitated for a long time. Ahimsa, I thought. Just get rid of it, I said. He brought me the mail and plopped it down on Good's desk, said he didn't see the spider in the box, might be in the mail. Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good went through it while I grabbed my keys and readied myself to drive her to the emergency room if she got bit. Oh, and I tried not to lose my latte all over the floor. Tried not to toss my cookies, so to speak. No spiders in the mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means she's still in the mail box. Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112118571405958297?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112118571405958297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112118571405958297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112118571405958297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112118571405958297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/arachniphobia-strikes-again.html' title='Arachniphobia strikes again.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112086312683443458</id><published>2005-07-08T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T15:52:06.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Famous!</title><content type='html'>Or at least my cleavage is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tay's film trailer has been posted online &lt;a href="http://www.transworldmatrix.com/twmatrix/mx/eatlunch/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. Click on Movie Trailer. &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/great-weekend.html"&gt;As I mentioned some time ago&lt;/a&gt;, I dressed up for a bit part in the trailer. That's me making the sandwich. If I look at all like a moto-slut, then perfect. I'm a great costume designer. Not easy to do with my wardrobe. And if it looks like it hurt to have all that dirt sprayed in my face, it doesn't mean I'm a great actress. It did hurt. Like hell. There were splinters in that potting soil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty proud of "the twins" here. But I did have a little help from a push-up bra thing. One of our friends even called Tay and asked him how I felt about "that chick in the video." He didn't recognize me! When Tay told him that was me, he said he never realized I was so busty! Well, I'm not. Ah, the miracles of modern day lingerie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112086312683443458?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112086312683443458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112086312683443458' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112086312683443458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112086312683443458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-famous.html' title='I&apos;m Famous!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112084464941668666</id><published>2005-07-08T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T10:44:09.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tick tick tick</title><content type='html'>You know you're biological clock has started ticking when.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....You see babies and pregnant women EVERYWHERE and think it must be something in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....You start thinking about names. Girl names, boy names, hippy names, funny names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....You start considering adoption or sperm donors because asian babies are so darn cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....You try on clothes (dresses, tunics, shirts) and think, "this would look so much cuter on me if I were pregnant." Then you buy the (dress, tunic, shirt) and sock it away for the day (months?) you finally are pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm guilty of all of the above. I have a beautiful indian silk tunic that I've had for years. It's really showing its wear and tear now. Last week when I was cleaning out my closet, I finally threw it away. Which made me very sad, because ...... it's the perfect pregnant top. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jcrew.com/images/newshots2004/main305/62983_NA6434_FA05_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.jcrew.com/images/newshots2004/main305/62983_NA6434_FA05_m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The white bridesmaid dress came in the mail yesterday. I tried it on this morning. It fits through my chest and shoulders, and has a little bit of an empire waistline. It would look so much cuter on me if I were pregnant. Alas, the wedding's in September, so I don't have time to properly grow a pea in the pod. Rats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm only 26. Plenty of time for children. And by no means am I ready to have one, I've only been married a year, we're building a house, I haven't done much traveling yet, I'm perpetually broke. That doesn't stop me from wanting one. The number one prevention tactic for me: No wine when you're pregnant. NO WINE???? For 9 MONTHS!!!! I think back to my life before wine. Well, that's just sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was intending to go to spin class. But I did just-over-half primary instead. It had been three days since my last ashtanga practice, and I was yearning for some asana. I took two days off for ladies holiday and knee recovery, and Wednesday was a moonday. My knee was feeling better yesterday. Much better. My bandhas were slow starters, but I found them eventually in Prasarita Paddottanasana B. I can always find them there for some reason. It's sort of like when you can't find your keys, but there's always that one place where you accidentally leave them. (For me, it's the bathroom windowsill. Seems like I've always gotta pee when I walk in my house.) And it's a good thing I find them when I do (the bandhas, that is), because I really need them to help me with Utthita Hasta Padanghustasana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ayri.org/images/primary/uttita-hasta-padangushtasana.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.ayri.org/images/primary/uttita-hasta-padangushtasana.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I like this image. Watch Sharath dance. Seated postures were slow and deep, many modifications for my right knee through the Janu Sirsasanas and Marichyasanas. My boat's not sinking as much in Navasana. Lovely to notice when one is gaining strength. Especially in this asana, as I'm usually quivering and quaking and not enjoying much of it. I got my feet through my arms and my head to the ground in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20b-Bhuja-Pindasana.html"&gt;bhujapidasana&lt;/a&gt;. This is always a challenge for me, and I always thought it was my big feet. Turns out, I just needed to hear the literal translation of the pose: arm pressure posture. Once I applied that &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20a-Bhuja-Pindasana-Vinyasa-in.html"&gt;pressure with my legs around my arms&lt;/a&gt;, it forced my feet to come together a bit more, and they slipped right through. Big AHA moment. As in: Ahaaaa. Now it makes sense. Wish it hadn't taken me this long to figure that one out. I followed &lt;a href="http://www.katstan.net/"&gt;KJS&lt;/a&gt;'s advice with &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21a-Kurmasana.html"&gt;Kurmasana&lt;/a&gt;. Really spent some time and effort in a standing &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/intermediate-series/18b-Tittibhasana-B.html"&gt;Tittibasana&lt;/a&gt; before coming down to sitting. My legs were way up on my shoulders, and I daresay this was my deepest Kurmasana ever. But I still couldn't get the bind unassisted in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21b-Supta-Kurmasana.html"&gt;Supta Kurmasana&lt;/a&gt;. It was much easier, however, to get my feet crossed over my head on my own (or more like on top of my head. not yet behind my head). So yipee, I was happy with my efforts, and thanks for the help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my finishing, I picked up The Pelt to go grocery shopping for Sukiyaki! Which, as it turns out, is the best thing EVER. The Samurai and The Feisty One came over and brought their house guest, and The Pseudo-brother came over as well. We chopped up a whole lotta veggies and tofu, cooked some noodles, put it all on a huge platter, brought it to the table, and then stir fried it all with a sukiyaki broth bit by bit in the electric skillet at the table. Good times. Almost as much fun as the fondue fiasco back in April.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do if you could do anything you wanted right NOW?&lt;br /&gt;I'd be in Italy, in a vineyard, with a picnic, a bottle of wine, a good book, and a sunhat. And my dog. Okay, and my husband, too. But only if he leaves his dirtbike at home and promises not to complain that "this is boring."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112084464941668666?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112084464941668666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112084464941668666' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112084464941668666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112084464941668666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/tick-tick-tick.html' title='tick tick tick'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112075194202548832</id><published>2005-07-07T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T09:00:19.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PC This!</title><content type='html'>Our world is full of troubling things.&lt;br /&gt;Children are starving to death. Prisoners are being detained for months with no legal representation and for no reason beyond a paranoid government's suspicions. There's a hole in the ozone layer, and glaciers are melting at an alarming rate. I didn't get beets again this week in my farm share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what's really troubling me today is a system requirement for an online Tech Writing class I'm currently taking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PC Only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate PC's. Not to mention the fact that I don't own one. Why can't the world embrace the Mac users and accept us as the forward thinkers and movers and shakers and big scheme dreamers that we are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why do I always miss out on the beets????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112075194202548832?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112075194202548832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112075194202548832' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112075194202548832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112075194202548832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/pc-this.html' title='PC This!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112061466939103627</id><published>2005-07-05T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T19:02:57.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Seahawks.</title><content type='html'>My dad's gonna be famous.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img src="http://photos18.flickr.com/23925631_0ba9436680.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, not famous, but he's going to be a large part of a documentary feature on ESPN.&lt;br /&gt;He's the head coach for Cabrillo College football. My brother's the offensive coordinator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos18.flickr.com/23925247_f43eedd6b6.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mann-madepictures.com/#"&gt;Here's the trailer&lt;/a&gt;. Click on "4th and Goal."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112061466939103627?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112061466939103627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112061466939103627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112061466939103627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112061466939103627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/go-seahawks.html' title='Go Seahawks.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112023983822240956</id><published>2005-07-05T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T11:25:20.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Catch-up</title><content type='html'>I'm way behind. I have pictures to post and a week's worth of practices to write about. Actually, I'll post the pictures later, gloss over the practices, and that will be that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a strange week. Monday I headed back to the gym to meet up with the Dental Assistant for practice. It was an okay practice, I was feeling a little weak throughout, but we got through full primary before 7 somehow. I can't remember anything else that stood out, except that the Dental Assistant is getting much stronger and is binding in Mari C with no trouble at all. Monday night, Tay and I went to the &lt;a href="http://www.sycamoresprings.com/"&gt;Sycamore Mineral Springs&lt;/a&gt; (known as "the soak and poke" to the college kids) for some relaxation. Not feeling all that great, I started to worry I might faint in the water. And I'm not a fainter. We came home and I collapsed into bed, completely exhausted. Tuesday I could hardly move. I was achey and light headed, so I called in sick to work and slept most of the day away. I was feeling much stronger come 4 p.m. so I attempted a half-primary home practice. I got through two sun salutations, then sat down hard on my bum, dazed and dizzy. Scratch that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Got up and out of bed at 5 to meet The Pelt at the gym. He had asked the night before if I would be practicing, and if he could join me. He's attended the Sunday led class several times now, and he's kind of getting into it. I'm thrilled. Our little Sunday class which used to consist of 5-6 people, all over the age of 40 (with me being the exception, at 26) now some weeks tops 12 students, ages 25-60. The Samurai is now a regular practitioner, the Pelt and The Other Jenna are now regulars as well. The more people in the area practicing ashtanga, the more it should become obvious that we need more than ONE class per week. At least I hope that's the case. The problem is: there's no one to teach the class. &lt;sigh&gt; At the very least, my friends can help me when my motivation escapes me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pelt had a good practice, as did I. I helped him with shoulderstand. Getting into it is difficult for him. He can't touch his toes to the ground for halasana, so it's hard to move his shoulders under to take that weight off his neck. He also has a tendency to let his legs hang out too far over his head, bringing more strain on that neck. Although now that I'm writing about it, I think I've got the solution.  More on that later. &lt;a href="http://photos8.flickr.com/11788842_f959a09b37.jpg?v=0"&gt;The Samurai &lt;/a&gt;came in after she finished her spin class and I helped them both with some headstand pointers. The Samurai has been practicing for a few months now and can't move away from the wall in headstand. Part of the problem has been that she's been kicking up one leg at a time. So I showed her how to walk her feet in until her hips were stacked above her upper body, then curl her feet into her body and use her abs to pull her up. Bingo, it clicked. And while it's not a picture perfect Sirsasana (she needs to zip her legs together and activate them a little more), it's looking pretty good, and she's away from the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, The Samurai met me at the gym at 5:15 a.m. for practice. (So fun to have folks to practice with!!!!) We broke all the rules: turned the heaters on and used the stereo. But I set up my speakers to make it look like that's what we were using. Very sneaky. We got through to Supta Kurmasana, then stopped and went into finishing. Now that I'm practicing regularly again, my back's starting to agree with my UD's. I'm starting to walk my hands in again. But I haven't been standing up/dropping back.&lt;br /&gt;The fear factor's back, as is a little bit of self-consciousness. Next practice, I'm just gonna do it. No holding back. Go big or go home. Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That afternoon after work, I succumbed to Tay's cardiovascular pestering and went to my first spin class in years. A little part of me holds a huge grudge against spin classes, although my reasons are silly and childish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 1: I'm constantly battling the noise of the Spin class as I try to find my breath, bandhas, concentration....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 2: I fell off a spin bike once. And landed on my crotch. Hard. Tried not to cry out, tried to regain my bruised dignity, and haven't attended a spin class since then. Until Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually enjoyed myself, which surprised me. The instructor was a little hokey, setting us up with wierd scenarios: "Oh no, you've led your team onto the freeway! Pump fast, but pump safe! There's the exit ramp up ahead! &lt;gasp&gt; there's a highway patrol car behind you! Faster!"&lt;br /&gt;But I did like that it was more of a cardiovascular spin class as opposed to the muscle building spin classes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No practice Friday, as my legs were absolute Jell-o. I do hope to make the Thursday afternoon spin a regular thing, so hopefully my legs can keep up this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning The Samurai joined me once again at my house this time for full primary. We had a very strong practice. I stood up once and dropped back once in backbends. I've got to slow The Samurai down a bit in finishing. She breezes through all the poses. I'm afraid she may miss out on some of the benefits of the longer holds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't notice any moments of pain during Saturday's practice, but now I'm back where I was just two short months ago. Reinjury of my LCL. And I just wanna cry. I was very gentle with it in Sunday's class. No half lotus (of course) and Janu Sirsasana A in place of B and C on the right hand side. Jenn helped me in Supta Kurmasana. My feet crossed over my head, no problem. The bind is more difficult for me. I can just touch my fingers, but no grab. Normally I take advantage of the assistance and struggle and strain to get the one finger bind. This day, I just gave up and breathed. I need to work my shoulders under my legs a little more. I think in Kurmasana my legs are over my upper arms, but I gotta get them up a little higher on to my shoulders. Any tips or research poses to suggest???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No practice yesterday or today due to Ladies' Holiday. Am letting my poor knee rest with lots of ice, castor oil, ibuprofen, and positive thoughts. Tomorrow's a moonday, so yet another day of rest. Then hopefully by Thursday I'll be ready to roar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112023983822240956?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112023983822240956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112023983822240956' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112023983822240956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112023983822240956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/playing-catch-up.html' title='Playing Catch-up'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112024038777636201</id><published>2005-07-01T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T10:53:07.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Pic #2</title><content type='html'>Disclaimer: It was bound to happen. I'm randomly selecting photos from my iPhoto library by moving my mouse around with my eyes closed then blindly selecting one. Lots of our wedding pics in my library. So there might be lots of wedding pics on my blog. I'm not afraid. Plus, I looked really pretty. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/1600/P1010150_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/320/P1010150_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed and I cried. And I smiled so big all day long I thought I might pull a muscle in my cheeks. August 14, 2004, Santa Cruz Redwoods, California.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112024038777636201?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112024038777636201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112024038777636201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112024038777636201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112024038777636201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/07/random-pic-2.html' title='Random Pic #2'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-112001070325195637</id><published>2005-06-28T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T19:05:03.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Pic #1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/1600/P22800471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/558/936/320/P22800471.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogger has simplified uploading photos. I no longer am required to upload onto a separate website, then post. So, in celebration I will begin posting random photos from my iPhoto library. So here goes. Random Pic #1. This is me, with dark hair, after skiing and before falling asleep at the table at the all-you-can-eat sushi joint. On a stool. Not an easy feat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-112001070325195637?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/112001070325195637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=112001070325195637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112001070325195637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/112001070325195637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/random-pic-1.html' title='Random Pic #1'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111999415444337660</id><published>2005-06-28T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T15:48:25.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All About Italian</title><content type='html'>No yoga in this post. Just wine. Wine wine wine. And a little food. And a lot of Italian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pineapple Bitch (or PB, as she prefers to be called in public) convinced me to take a few wine classes through our local community college. So I registered for one weekend class on Italian wines, and one on French wines. This weekend was the Italian wines. The class was from 8 to 5 in Solvang, the strange Danish village featured in &lt;a href="http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/sideways/"&gt;"The Movie"&lt;/a&gt; (I prefer not to call it by name. I'm sick of hearing the name.) a little over an hour south of San Luis Obispo. I offered to drive on day one, so at 6:30 a.m. I stumbled into Starbucks (which I usually avoid like the plague, preferring to support local businesses over complex corporations), ordered the very necessary soy latte (double, mind you), and picked up the troops. Our lab tech and his roommie, who also works in vino production, were also taking the class with us, so I picked them up first.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of two days, I took 26 pages of notes.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; 26.&lt;/span&gt; And I feel like I barely scratched the surface. The Italian government has formed a somewhat complicated classification system, not unlike that of the French.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;DOCG (Denominazione Origine Contollata Garantita): Only 21 in Italy. These are the "first class" wines of Italy. They are considered by the Italian Government to be the best representative wines of the regions. A region must have five very well received consecutive vintages as DOC before they can be considered for DOCG status. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOC (same as above, sans Garantita):  About 297 in Italy. These wines are made under government specifications, aged for government specified amounts of time before release. They are made with these specifications in order to preserve the wine's character uniquely derived from it's region.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IGT (Indicatzione Geographica Typica): About 130 in Italy. This is basically the equivalent to America's AVA. While this is considered just a step up from table wine by Italian government, many IGT's are finding incredible recognition and high accolades internationally. IGT wines such as Antinori's Solaia, Sassicaia, and Ornellaia (among others), known as "Super Tuscans" retail for over $150 here in the U.S. and have received top rated scores from Steven Tanzer and Robert Parker, two of the most well respected wine journalists in the biz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vino di Tavola: Table wine. Consumed locally, no production or time requirements are imposed. These are very inexpensive, and not usually exported.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italian wine is very different than French and American wines in so many ways, but the most significant difference is in the philosophy. American wines are made to pair with your food, to be at the same level as your food, or to enjoy by itself. We have sommeliers in our restaurants to help us find the perfect wine so as not to overshadow our steak or get lost in the process. You wouldn't drink a Cab with a white fish, and you wouldn't drink Sauvignon Blanc with Filet Mignon. French wines (especially in the Bordeaux regions) were made to overpower your food, which was not always very fresh. Hence: Beef Bourgignone and Coq au Vin. Italian wines are meant to accompany the meal, to be a backdrop to your food, not to compete in any way with it. So they are lighter, but more acidic and tannic than both French and American wines.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of day one, I was convinced I was not cut out to enjoy Italian wines. We tasted 12 wines. Among these wines, I liked 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My faves of day 1:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1997 Montesole "Taurasi", $30:&lt;/span&gt; From Campania, 100% Aglianico. I've decided I love Aglianico. Great, mouth filling wine, I got hints of anise, brandied cherries, dark fruit, and tobacco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2000 Castello di Ama "Chianti Classico", $40:&lt;/span&gt; A DOCG from Tuscany; Sangiovese, Canaiolo, Trebbiano, and Malvasia. Chianti classico is a sub region of the Chianti region. The DOCG wines from this region are, in the Italian government's eyes, the most representative of the entire Chianti region. Castello di Ama is a well known producer of great Chianti and Super Tuscan wines. My tasting notes from this wine: Cloves, cherry, herb, and earth. The palate is extremely well balanced, good acidity, round tannins, and is consistent with the bouquet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2000 Altesino "Alte d'Altesi", $42:&lt;/span&gt; This is an IGT from Tuscany. This was the last wine of the day, my wrists hurt, so I didn't take any notes besides "brick red" and two stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I should note that these three wines were the most expensive of all the wines we tasted. And we weren't given the price until after we'd tasted and analyzed it. Typical of my palette. Why can't I enjoy 2 buck chuck and turning leaf like millions of other americans?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day two was a bit more relaxed. Our instructor started class at 9, so we got to sleep in a bit. Today's class was a horse of a different color. I liked 8 of the 12 wines we tasted. I probably would have liked 9, but the 1996 Prunotto Barrolo had cork taint. Darn that TCA. One of our very wealthy classmates (she must have been from Montecito) brought in a 1989 Brezza Barolo to share with 13 of her new found friends. Bless her, it was amazing. Black licorice, black fruits, and a silky texture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other highlights:&lt;br /&gt;2004 Argiolas "Costamolino - Vermintino di Sardegna" $15: From the island of Sardinia. Good body, good acidity, melon, honey, pear, citrus, kiwi, and a lingering vanilla component. I really liked all the wines from Sardinia, and I'm looking forward to visiting some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2003 Tramin "Nussbaumer" $40:&lt;/span&gt; Gewurztraminer from Trentino, one of the best Gewurtzraminers I've ever tasted. And I'd even pay $40 for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2003 Cerreto "B Lange" $22:&lt;/span&gt; Arneis from Alto-Adige. I love Arneis. This is a pretty, well balanced, full bodied white with a nose of mineral, hay, and lemon peel. Soft flint, honey, stonefuits on the palate. Good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2004 Cerreto "Moscato D'Asti - S. Stefano" $23:&lt;/span&gt; This slightly sweet wine from Piedmont underwent a second fermentation in the bottle, resulting in a slight "Frizze," or subtle carbonation. This would be a great wine for an apertif, for a celebration, for toasting, hell, for anything! It smelled distinctly of lychees, and danced around in your mouth. Plus, with only 5.5% alcohol, you could drink it all night and only slightly embarrass yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class was dismissed a bit early, so we headed down to Los Olivos for some more wine tasting. First we stopped at Los Olivos Wine and Spirits, and this was a bit of a boo boo. Bob Senn, the owner, and quite a name in the wine industry here on the central coast, died May 1st of cancer, and they were closing down the shop. Very sad. We chatted for a bit, as some of my friends from Talley were there helping out, then headed over to the Los Olivos Tasting Room downtown. We found a great bargain Merlot from Santa Ynez, and a great dry rose made from Pinot Noir from Kathy Joseph called Pink Fiddle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The four of us had decided that after class we would go to the Hitching Post (also featured in The Movie) for dinner, so I was to bring a bottle to share and the boys would bring one, too. Only problem was at 7 in the morning I couldn't decide what to bring, so I brought 4 bottles. A 97 Rodney Strong single vineyard cab, 2002 L'Aventure Syrah, 2002 L'Aventure Cab, 2001 Stolpman Angeli. And PB and I hadn't properly communicated, so she had brought a bottle as well. So we walked in to the restaurant with a half case of wine. We had considered making reservations, but thought we would be there early enough to beat the crowd. We were wrong. There was crowds of folks inside and out of the entry, and the bar was completely packed. All thanks to The Movie. Luckily, the woman who was working up front often heads up the catering for Hitching Post, someone I've worked with on a number of occasions, so she had us at a table in less than 5 minutes. I guess I know people! Who knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was so fun. The guys had brown-bagged a bottle (meaning we weren't allowed to see it until we'd tasted it and talked about it) of 95 Ridge York Mountain Petite Sirah. When we finished that, we stared down at the other 5 wines in utter confusion. What to have next? We solved the problem by making our waiter reach in and grab a bottle at random. The winner was: The Stolpman Angeli, which was excellent. It probably could have used a little more time to soften the tannins, and I felt a little guilty drinking it without the friends who gave it to me, but I'll make it up to them in other ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got into a political discussion with the Lab Tech's roommie. Wine + Politics + Jenna usually = bad news. This night was different. We had a great discussion, and he brought up a few points I hadn't heard. Hopefully I brought up some good points for him as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drive home was just an hour of laughs, tears rolling down my cheeks, gasping for air.... My abs are still sore from it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a great weekend, but I'm exhausted and ready for Friday. (and it's only Tuesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More yoga news another time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111999415444337660?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111999415444337660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111999415444337660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111999415444337660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111999415444337660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/all-about-italian.html' title='All About Italian'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111963942290356616</id><published>2005-06-24T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T13:05:01.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>strange things</title><content type='html'>Thursdays are not a good day for pseudo-vegetarianism. These are our catered lunch days here at the winery, and we get spoiled by Sara, our chef extraordinaire. Coq au Vin, Chicken Cacciatore, Pork Tenderloin with port cherry sauce.... so many temptations. Yesterday's lunch was my all time fave, fried chicken with potato salad, asian cole slaw and corn bread. I cracked, and ate a little drumstick. But not without some guilt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made vegetable korma last night for dinner. It was a lot spicier than I remember.... So not doing a good job in balancing my dosha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there was a big BIG spider in our room last night at bedtime just waiting for me to fall asleep so it could crawl all over me. Ick. So when he made his move, I pointed it out to my pup, and she took care of it, as in "Yeah Boss, I took care of it". Then I felt guilty again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I got up at 5 and drove over to the gym to use the class room. I had a good hour of peace and quiet before the spin class across the hall started, so as soon as I heard that familiar techo bass start up, I pressed play on my iPod and tried to drown out the distractions with Cinematic Orchestra. Not easy. I felt pretty good today, although I'm still having trouble focusing on my bandhas throughout practice. I'm not sure when I fell out of the habit, but lately I'll just be going along, and then I realize, "Oh! Bandhas!" Then I'll engage them. Then a few more poses down the line, "Doh! Bandhas!" and engage them again. So this will become my new focus over the next few practices until it's second nature again. The room was warm, so I heated up quickly. I actually sweat, which is usually rare for my morning practices. My left hamstring (at the attachment point) was tender at first, so my internal alarm went off immediately. But it behaved once I bribed it with an extra surya namaskara B and a gentle and long Paschimottanasana A. Navasanas were pathetic. I was a shaky, sinking boat with bent legs. I left my hands by my head in Setu Bandhasana instead of crossing them over my chest. I was just feeling a little shaky. Backbends felt GREAT today, stood up and dropped back a few times til I noticed folks were watching, as the walls in the room are made of glass. Then I lost my concentration and sat down for my forward bend. Yoga is not a spectator sport. They need some curtains in there or something. They have some of those folding gymnastics mats.... I've thought about screening myself in with those. Then I wouldn't have to stare at myself in the mirrors, either. But I think I'm a little claustrophobic for those drastic measures. Plus it might draw even more attention than my pathetic jump-throughs do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My knees are still injured (!!!!!!) so still modifying. I read somewhere that when you think you've healed you should wait a month to resume lotus and/or half lotus, even if there's no pain. So I'm trying to be conservative here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my practice, I returned home, showered, changed, ate a very small breakfast of Kashi, soymilk, and strawberries, then promptly threw it all up. Huh? Everything was going peachy, then all the sudden..... get out of my way, I gotta get this out of my stomach NOW. Since then, I've been stomaching food just fine, just made up a little miso soup for lunch, but I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt; feeling a little faint and weak. I'm at work for now, but may leave early to get some rest. My coworkers' reaction to my recounts of the morning? "Oh, you're pregnant! That's great! We need another Talley baby!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am NOT pregnant. (I hope.... *gulp*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that would NOT be great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want another baby at Talley, YOU have one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111963942290356616?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111963942290356616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111963942290356616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111963942290356616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111963942290356616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/strange-things.html' title='strange things'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111955338759164992</id><published>2005-06-23T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T12:03:07.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When the going gets tough....</title><content type='html'>..... this not so tough one starts pouting and generally feeling sorry for herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding self-motivation has been difficult these past few weeks. I want to practice, I think about my practice and Ashtanga in general pretty much 65% of the time all day. But once I step on my mat, I lose steam. And it's only going to get more difficult, I'm afraid. Jenn is leaving at the end of July, the studio may be closing, no one has stepped up to take over her class. The owner of another yoga studio is drooling to get the Ashtanga group back over to her place, but there's a lot of negativity and cut throat business tactics going on over there so a lot of us aren't to jazzed to practice with her. And this is my one class!!!!! My only class. I've debated making treks down to Santa Barbara to practice Mysore every Sunday, but that's a total of 3 hours in the car each week for one class. Is it worth it? Come February, I'm moving to Paso Robles, which means a longer commute to work each day, which means earlier self practices, which means I'll need more self motivation. Maybe I need to start practicing with the Dental Assistant again. I have to start earlier than she likes to, but she can just come and do her own thing, I guess. That means back to the gym and back to tuning out the spin classes and back to practicing with music. Ick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WANTED (desperately): qualified ashtanga instructor to teach in beautiful San Luis Obispo, California. C'mon people, there's got to be someone out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111955338759164992?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111955338759164992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111955338759164992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111955338759164992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111955338759164992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/when-going-gets-tough.html' title='When the going gets tough....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111953271535131947</id><published>2005-06-23T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T06:56:30.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishy</title><content type='html'>I thought I heard a man's voice this morning just before my dog started snarling and barking like crazy in the kitchen. This was 4:45 a.m. *Not* a feel-good wake up. I made Tay go check things out while I huddled in bed, trying to calculate which was the closest "weapon" I could grab. Books? I've got some heavy ones, but my aim is a little shoddy. Shoes? Those Italian stilletos might do the trick a la Single White Female. I used to keep a crow bar under my bed for situations such as these. Perhaps I'll have to reinstate that preventative measure. In the end, Tay came back to bed unharmed. If there was someone there, Kula scared the hell out of him. Our house is not the most secure. It's set way off the street, so a burglar is pretty protected from passer-bys noticing them. Our doors are almost all sliding glass. We have one wooden one that we don't even use. We've had a bunch of strangers over to the house in the past few months while interviewing for roommates. And with all Tay's film and editing equipment, there's a lot of stuff to plunder. All of the equipment is insured, and we also have renter's insurance.... but who wants to be robbed? NOT ME. I'm just being my mother, worrying away. There probably wasn't anyone there....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured I may as well get up since the alarm was gonna sound off in 15 minutes anyway. I was still a little spooked, so finding any semblance of quiet in my mind was very difficult. My hamstrings were so tight that even touching the floor in Uttanasana was a strain. Must have been from the 108 sun salutations. They loosened up a bit as I moved through my Surya Namaskaras, but I had a difficult time getting warm. I didn't break a sweat until Utthita Hasta Padungustasana. In an afternoon practice, I've rolled out my rug by then. I finished standing poses, and went right into finishing. My stomach was burning burning burning, and last night's dinner was still digesting, so I was having a tough go of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've got a little pitta imbalance. And I've been eating too much fish. Tacos de camarones on Monday for lunch. Seared Ahi on Tuesday night, ceviche for lunch yesterday, king salmon for dinner. Since everyone's been on vacation this week at work, we've been having our own vacation by eating lunch potluck style with the boys in the cellar. This means tacos de carne asada (but not for me), grilled camarones, rice, beans, salsa picante, cilantro, and most notably, tostadas con ceviche. I love ceviche. This was yesterday's lunch. One of the cellar-rats wives made it with love, and it was wonderful. Then Don Talley (the big BIG boss) came by the office with pounds and pounds of fresh-frozen king salmon and alaskan halibut from his vacation to Alaska, and just starts handing them out. The filet of salmon I vied for was huge! Almost 4 inches thick, and so fresh. Tay grilled it up last night, I made up a little lemon-parsley gremolata, and I pulled out a bottle of &lt;a href="http://www.wineandspiritsmagazine.com/topten/topten_april04.html"&gt;2001 Talley Rincon Chardonnay&lt;/a&gt; from my "cellar" which paired very nicely. It had needed a little time when it was released, but now it's there. Lovely. But today I'm paying for all of this week's culinary splurges. Too much acid. Too much spice. And.... too much fish???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111953271535131947?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111953271535131947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111953271535131947' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111953271535131947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111953271535131947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/fishy.html' title='Fishy'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111937274671426114</id><published>2005-06-21T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T09:52:26.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Me of Little Faith</title><content type='html'>My public apologies to The Pelt and The Feisty One, who were at my house just after I pressed "publish."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We moved through 108 surya namaskara A's, but shortened our stay in downward dog to just 3 breaths to make it a little more manageable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm grimacing as my wrists are cramping up and my shoulders are heavy and sore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll honor the moon day by not practicing tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and you've all been a wealth of recipe suggestions in the past. So I'm counting on you to bring it home for me this time around. What should I do with all that Italian chard in my fridge? Dazzle me, folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111937274671426114?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111937274671426114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111937274671426114' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111937274671426114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111937274671426114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/o-me-of-little-faith.html' title='O Me of Little Faith'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111935738930934741</id><published>2005-06-21T05:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T05:36:29.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>108.... maybe.</title><content type='html'>It's 5:30 a.m. on a moon day. I should be sleeping. Why am I up? Yesterday &lt;a href="72ongodhike.blogspot.com"&gt;The Pelt&lt;/a&gt; approached me about the 108 sun salutations for summer solstice. "So, are you doing that crazy 100 something sun salutations?" He wanted to join me (???). What a nut. We mentioned this to &lt;a href="http://72ongodhike.blogspot.com/2005/06/theres-old-man-in-my-mouth.html"&gt;The Feisty One&lt;/a&gt;, and now she's on the bandwagon, too. Of course, this is not to say that they'll actually show up. Shocker: Normal people don't drag themselves up at 5 a.m. for yoga. I know. What gives. Nothing left to do now but wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do if the summer solstice lands on a moon day?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111935738930934741?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111935738930934741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111935738930934741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111935738930934741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111935738930934741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/108-maybe.html' title='108.... maybe.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111928446027465455</id><published>2005-06-20T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T14:08:03.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tattoo!~~</title><content type='html'>My husband is setting up his appointment to meet with his tattoo artist to talk about reworking his tat. He's decided on a scene inspired by Baja, his first love (I could never hold a candleto this place).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We camp at Punto San Carlos (about 6 hours past the border on the Pacific side) about twice a year to windsurf, ride bikes, kick back, and relax. Taylor's been making the trip for years. We took a day-long hike one time up to the point of this mesa where there are petroglyphs dating back just a few hundred years (to about the 16th century). One of the petroglyphs shows a spanish galleon ship. Next to it, there's a strong face carved out of the rock blowing away the ship. Archaeologists and anthropologists who have studied the petroglyphs and the area around it guess that this was the home of a tribe's shaman. The ground around the red rocks is covered with oyster shells, bleached white by the sun and rain. And this is miles up from the ocean. The theory is that tribesmen brought the abalone as offerings to the shaman. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;img src="http://www.solosports.net/Activities/Sol_petro_26.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't one of my pictures, maybe I can post my pictures later. Don't have them handy at the moment. In any case, Tay wants to do a piece that is a half sleeve up around his shoulder, then continues onto his back of the ship and the rock carving. Pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I'm still debating a bit. I've pretty much figured out what I want and where I want it, I'm just gonna give it a few months to sink in. Plus, I'm in a wedding coming up, and I'd like to be tattoo-free for Yellow's conservative Aunt and Uncle. It's going to be hard enough for them since Yellow's wearing a purple and gold beautiful indian inspired dress, her bridesmaids are wearing white, and my mother is officiating (not her Aunt and Uncle's pastor from Bakersfield). My dress is cut beneath where I want the tattoo on my back, so we'll wait til after September before I actually have it inked. (Don't worry, Mom.... I can still cover it up when I want to)&lt;br /&gt;I want the &lt;a href="http://www.ayri.org/closing-prayer.html"&gt;Mangala Mantra&lt;/a&gt; in sanskrit &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.ayri.org/images/method/closing-sanskrit.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;surrounded by some nature artwork.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the artwork I'm inspired by:&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img src="http://www.tordboontje.com/Resources/invitationweba.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, but a little less "Disney." But I love the wildness of it. It reminds me so much of some of the property I grew up on in the Santa Cruz mountains. Isn't it "pretty?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111928446027465455?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111928446027465455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111928446027465455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111928446027465455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111928446027465455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/tattoo.html' title='Tattoo!~~'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111895810873972870</id><published>2005-06-16T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T18:12:05.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me, Praying</title><content type='html'>I'm so proud of myself. My husband only had to nudge me once to get me out of bed this morning. I rolled out my mat at 5:20. I made it through standing without even thinking of stopping, although I was battling some serious resistance from my hamstrings. I didn't fall over in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/fundamental-asanas/6-Parsvottanasana.html"&gt;Parsvottanasana&lt;/a&gt;. I don't know what it is about this pose that is so different from the other standing poses, but I often feel so out of balance and dizzy the whole time I'm leaning out over my leg. And every once in a while, I fall over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My knees have been hurting as of late, and I'm not really sure why. It's my LCL on both sides, so no half padmasana, not even in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/02-Ardha-Baddha-Padmottanasana.html"&gt;Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana&lt;/a&gt;. I wonder if it's some sort of strength issue? Maybe one muscle is overdeveloped or another is underdeveloped. Dunno. I've been contemplating some accupuncture. My insurance gives me a discounted rate with approved accupuncturists. I could go to a physical therapist, but they'll give me exercises that I'll forget to do. Oh the dilemma. For now I'll continue to baby them and take lots of ibuprofen and wrap them up with some castor oil. And think good thoughts. Lots of good thoughts. Back bends were hell today.  I kept waiting for them to feel good, but I never got to that point.  My fifth breath couldn't come quickly enough. I didn't even try to stand up. Or drop back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tay came out while I was finishing Uth Pluthi this morning. He just watched with a funny smile as I finished, went through my last vinyasa and laid down for savasana. He was in the kitchen, making coffee and making me very self conscious while I whispered my &lt;a href="http://www.ayri.org/closing-prayer.html"&gt;closing prayer&lt;/a&gt;. He said, "Did you just pray?" Well, kind of. It's more of a blessing to me. "Who are you?" I showed him the prayer in English. "But were you praying in English?" No, Sanskrit. He just laughed. He thinks I'm a yoga nerd. And, well, I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my veggies today! And they're beautiful. I have a ton of zucchini, and like 3 lbs. of carrots, so it's either time for some bread making, some soup making, or some stock making. The Pineapple Bitch also subscribed to the flower share, and once I saw her flowers I was instantly envious. They were gorgeous! Maybe I'll do that next year. For now, produce is my limit. And I've discovered something delicious: Garlic Scape! Can't wait til next week: Golden Beets!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111895810873972870?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111895810873972870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111895810873972870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111895810873972870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111895810873972870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/me-praying.html' title='Me, Praying'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111885659570050855</id><published>2005-06-15T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-15T10:37:56.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WANTED: MOTIVATION</title><content type='html'>I did not dream about animated veggies last night. I did, however, have such great dreams that I could not be torn away from them when the alarm interrupted them at 5 this morning. So I slept in. No asana. Of course, now I have no recollection of these dreams. But Kula made a guest appearance. She seems to have a returning role. Everyone loves Kula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos12.flickr.com/15180673_c60cc751f9.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've asked the husband to start kicking me out of bed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if the newspaper came like &lt;a href="http://harpers.org/WeeklyReview2005-06-14.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; everyday, I'd read it more often.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111885659570050855?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111885659570050855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111885659570050855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111885659570050855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111885659570050855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/wanted-motivation.html' title='WANTED: MOTIVATION'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111879732724879903</id><published>2005-06-14T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T18:02:07.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Intentions</title><content type='html'>I had good intentions of coming home and practicing this evening, but instead I did sun salutations and finishing. Bad lady. But at least I spent some time with my mat. Some yoga is better than none at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I signed up for my CSA share through &lt;a href="http://huasnavalleyfarm.com/"&gt;Huasna Valley Farm&lt;/a&gt; this afternoon! They're not "certified" organic, but they follow organic standards. My first pick-up is Thursday, and I can't wait. Possibilities in this week's harvest (according to last week's newsletter):&lt;br /&gt;Blueberries, carrots, fennel, spicy green mix, leeks and garlic, cabbage, potatoes, zucchini, strawberries, kohlrabi, italian chard, and sweet onion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should make for some interesting menu items for next week, and I'm excited to get even more creative with my culinary attempts. I've got to think of something for that fennel. T is not a fan. I've included it in a potato fennel gratin once, which was AWESOME, but June isn't exactly gratin season. Then again, I'm getting potatoes.... Does anyone have any other ideas to include fennel without its anise flavor coming through too strongly? And what exactly is kohlrabi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been obsessing about this veggie thing all day. I'll probably have dreams of dancing fennel bulbs and jumping blueberries. You'd think it was Christmas or the Guruji SF tour stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111879732724879903?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111879732724879903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111879732724879903' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111879732724879903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111879732724879903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/good-intentions.html' title='Good Intentions'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111875512750079722</id><published>2005-06-14T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-14T06:18:47.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing steam</title><content type='html'>Standing and primary up to Marichyasana A this morning, then savasana. It's humid here in my house for 5:30 a.m. I ate too much last night, and my meal is not digested AT ALL. Will continue tonight after work with standing series, the rest of primary, and finishing. No, really, I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111875512750079722?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111875512750079722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111875512750079722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111875512750079722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111875512750079722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/losing-steam.html' title='Losing steam'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111846878790404795</id><published>2005-06-10T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T22:46:27.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, to be 7</title><content type='html'>BT (aka The Big Boss)'s daughter was hanging out in my office today. I share a pretty large room with three other people, but one's in Chicago, one leaves early, so I was on my own. Me and Olivia, who's 7. She's very into gymnastics. Wait. It's not gymnastics, it's called something else. Some division of gymnastics, where she gets launched into the air a la Bring It On cheerleader style and does crazy flips and lands on someone's shoulders or something. So, she was making tumbling runs across the office with round-off back handspring back flips, and aerial front handsprings and blah blah blah, all flexi-bendy with pointed toes and smiles. She did a back walkover and I asked her if she could stand up from a back bend after dropping back. Oh yeah. No sweat. So I showed her my drop back and stand up. She thought that was "pretty cool, but you need to stick your landings better." and asked if I could do a back handspring. So I did one, with quite a bit of trepidation. It's been a year or two. I'm guessing the last time I tried one I was drunk at a bar-b-q or something. It's amazing what you'll go through just to get a 7 year old's approval. Maybe I was hoping she'd tell her dad how cool I was so I could get another raise. Who knows. She was impressed with my back handspring, regardless of my intentions. I asked her to show me her headstand, and she did the classic &lt;a href="http://www.fotosearch.com/BDX213/bxp37550/"&gt;gymnast tripod headstand&lt;/a&gt;. So I showed her how to do a &lt;a href="http://www.atoneyoga.com/introtoyoga/examplepostures/headstand/"&gt;yogi headstand&lt;/a&gt;, and with about 5 seconds of coaching, she was up on her own. That headstand took me at least two weeks to do away from a wall. Nice. My ego was shot. But, at the same time, I'm awestruck by her talent. She'll make one hell of a gymnast. Hopefully without the &lt;a href="http://www.eatingdisorderresources.com/christy.htm"&gt;Bulimia&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111846878790404795?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111846878790404795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111846878790404795' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111846878790404795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111846878790404795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/oh-to-be-7.html' title='Oh, to be 7'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111842939952928271</id><published>2005-06-10T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T11:49:59.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bogged</title><content type='html'>Thank you, everyone who commented in support of my decision. Your insight has been extremely helpful. I only wish my husband and &lt;a href="http://72ongodhike.blogspot.com/2005/06/go-veggies.html"&gt;my friends&lt;/a&gt; were as supportive. &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband says he will support me no matter what I decide. It's just kind of a begrudging support. He says I've changed so much in the past year. I don't think I've changed all that much. I just spend more money on yoga clothes, I've started a blog, and I don't want to eat meat for a while. And I get up earlier in the morning and occasionally I ask him to help me stand up from a backbend. He says he hopes this yoga thing doesn't ruin our marriage. Then he went for a bike ride. He came back with a much more positive attitude. Plus I cooked him chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not becoming a vegetarian. I'm just choosing not to eat meat. I have decided at this time to continue eating seafood and eggs. I agree with Cameron's comment: listen to my body. If I crave steak, I'll eat a steak. If I go to my in-law's house and they're serving chicken, I'll eat some chicken. I'm already enough of a hassle to cook for with my lactose intolerance issues. I'm not expecting anyone to try to work around my food issues. I think my diet will probably end up being about 75% meatless, all said and done. As Kathy commented, I don't think I could quit "cold turkey" after eating meat for 26 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding support in odd places. My coworkers have been jovially supportive. Of course, they have a few laughs at my expense. I'm used to that. The Pineapple Bitch has brought in several vegetarian cookbooks, and we're talking about sharing a share in a cooperative organic farm. Some fun has been made of my "personal version" of vegetarianism. They call it "Jennatarianism." As in, "Oh, I can't eat that. Well, maybe today I can. After all, I'm a Jennatarian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning at 4:45 without an alarm. Wide awake. Just laid there, thinking, "I could get up now... Nah, I'll go back to sleep until the alarm goes off." 25 minutes later, I turned off my alarm without even opening my eyes. Next time I woke up it was 6:30. UGH! The Sushi Queen is teaching Vinyasa tonight, so I'll go to that and at least I'll get some yoga in. But I'm craving Primary. Looks like I'll have a saturday practice again this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111842939952928271?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111842939952928271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111842939952928271' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111842939952928271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111842939952928271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/bogged.html' title='Bogged'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111833737952671922</id><published>2005-06-09T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T10:16:56.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Limbs</title><content type='html'>My my my. These eight limbs are slowly infiltrating my life. Lately, I've been spending lots of time meditating on living my life in ahimsa. It started with &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/playing-catch-up.html"&gt;the spiders&lt;/a&gt;. I'm working through some of my resentments toward certain individuals. After all, this ill-will only effects myself. Now here's the clincher. I'm considering &lt;a href="http://www.cosmicledger.com/cosmology/diet/"&gt;vegetarianism&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;GASP!!!!&lt;/span&gt; Those of you who are reading this.... are any of you vegetarians? How did you come to make this decision? Was it a gradual process as a result of Ashtanga? Or were you already practicing vegetarianism? How did it effect your loved ones? How strict are you in your diet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discussed this at length with Yogasushi (whose name I am changing. From now on, she will be deemed The Queen of Sushi) last night over (what else) Sushi. Now &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; will be hard to give up. I think what I really need to do is sit down and journal my way through exactly where I stand, what exactly my pillars are, what resonates strongly with me. In the meantime, I think I'm going to try it out for a few weeks and see how it goes. Oh, and I should probably tell my husband about it, since it directly effects him as well. This should be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, my friend Mr. Shadow is moving to San Francisco this week to pursue his dreams. He's been a casual acquaintance for years, but he's a very important figure in my life as he introduced me to the tataki at Tsurugi's. He's a sushi junkie as well. He will be sorely missed, but he'll be living on Potrero Hill so I will definitely be meeting him for a cuppa at Farley's sometime in the hopefully-not-too-distant future. Thanks for the beer last night, Mr. Shadow. Although I definitely did not need it at that point in time. Hoo boy. Hope you caused some mischief downtown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111833737952671922?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111833737952671922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111833737952671922' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111833737952671922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111833737952671922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/eight-limbs.html' title='Eight Limbs'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111824859270846511</id><published>2005-06-08T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T09:36:32.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trouble with Short Hair</title><content type='html'>I almost ripped out a huge chunk of hair while getting my feet crossed over my head in Supta Kurmasana. Yeow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt surprisingly good this morning. Past mornings have been hell, dealing with draining sinuses, scratchy throats, shallow lungs, and all the other glories of allergy season on the Central Coast. Apparently, I've found the secret: One Sudafed Allergy and Sinus, 4 Ibuprofen (for the post-hike inflammation of the knees), 2 sprays per nostril of Afrin, and 3 puffs on the ol' inhaler. After 2 glasses of champagne. And then: sleep. After yesterday's hike, Taylor took me to &lt;a href="http://www.bigskycafe.com/index2.html"&gt;Big Sky&lt;/a&gt; to celebrate my raise. With glass of champagne in hand, I rubbed and itched my nose and eyes throughout dinner. My chest was tightening up, I was having trouble breathing and talking. So I just ordered another glass. It seemed to help, as champagne always does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get out of bed this morning at 5:15, and Tay didn't even have to kick my booty all that much. (He did try to keep me out of bed for yoga at 2 a.m. when I got up to go to the bathroom. Not appreciated.) But once I got on my mat, I couldn't find my bandhas anywhere. They were nowhere to be seen (or felt) during the Prasarita Padottanasana series. They were sorely missed in my jumpbacks and jumpthroughs. I practically shook the house with my landings. And standing up from dropbacks was just not the same without them. I hope they return from wherever it is they've disappeared to. They are needed here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another job perk tonight, wine and appetizers at &lt;a href="http://www.baileyana.com/tastingroom.htm"&gt;Baileyana&lt;/a&gt; with all the other &lt;a href="http://www.slowine.com/"&gt;SLOVAG&lt;/a&gt; members. Then sushi with the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! and &lt;a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net"&gt;McSweeneys&lt;/a&gt; is back in business after being inactive for a few days. Woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;On my iPod: Watching the Detectives, Elvis Costello &amp; The Attractions (Maybe the detectives can find my bandhas.)&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Shining, Finley Quaye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111824859270846511?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111824859270846511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111824859270846511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111824859270846511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111824859270846511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/trouble-with-short-hair.html' title='The Trouble with Short Hair'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111820606062973879</id><published>2005-06-07T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T21:47:40.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Days are Here Again!</title><content type='html'>Well, sort of. At least I can pay my bills, maybe. I got a raise today! A fairly significant one! The past few months have been so tight.... I've had to borrow money left and right which I hate doing. All in the name of paying off old college debt. I had a hair appointment mid-day, so I left work with a big smile and a light step, cut off all my hair and put lots of funky highlights in, then treated myself to lots of sushi for lunch to celebrate. Good lunch. Until about 5:30 when I started my opening chant with a lump of fish still undigested in my gut. The Surya Namaskaras were especially tough. I couldn't find any bandha strength. I was belching rudely every time I came back to samasthiti. On a positive note, I got my hands to touch the ground in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/fundamental-asanas/5c-Prasarita-Padottanasana-C.html"&gt;prasarita padottanasana C&lt;/a&gt; for the first time. Palms out. I don't get the same kind of opening with palms in. I got through standing, but couldn't continue without losing it. So I finished with a long meditation in virasana. There was still plenty of sunlight and lots of daylight left to burn, so I took Kula for a good hike &lt;a href="http://santalucia.sierraclub.org/ninesis.html#bishop"&gt;up the mountain&lt;/a&gt;. She certainly appreciated it, although now she's pouting again because we left her to go out for dinner. So spoiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will practice tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;I will practice tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;I will practice tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've instructed my husband to put his big foot on my big ass and *push* tomorrow if I even so much as tap that snooze button. I need some extrinsic motivation these days. &lt;sigh&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111820606062973879?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111820606062973879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111820606062973879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111820606062973879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111820606062973879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/happy-days-are-here-again.html' title='Happy Days are Here Again!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111815863724175838</id><published>2005-06-07T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T14:46:15.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guruji Dreams</title><content type='html'>I was in SF again for an encore class with SKPJ. I was sitting in the front row. There were hundreds of people on their mats behind me. We were waiting and waiting for Guruji to show up, but he never did so we started the class without him. The floors were really slippery so our mats were skidding everywhere, we were all apologies, "sorry, didn't mean to slide into you." By the time we got through standing, we were running out of time. The instructor said we wouldn't fit full primary in. Everyone started yelling out what poses they wanted. It was absolute mayhem. I just went into Dandasana, followed by the Paschimottanasana series while they all argued behind me. I was in Paschimottanasana D, I looked up, and there was Guruji in the window, smiling at me. He looked younger than when I saw him in April, but had the same glint of joy in his eyes. I got up and went out to say hi. He said something about how everyone else was falling apart in a panic yet I was staying dedicated to my practice. (perhaps a sub-conscious allusion to my solitary dedication to the ashtanga practice here in San Luis Obispo?) I asked him where he would be teaching tomorrow, and he said "7th Heaven." Isn't that where &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/ElephantsBelly/"&gt;Cameron&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://practiceashtanga.blogspot.com/"&gt;Neti&lt;/a&gt; practice? Hmmmm.... interesting. I said I'd see him tomorrow and started walking home. He asked if I needed a ride, I said sure. He was driving a cherry red 56 chevy. Classic. He drove like a maniac, I was holding on for dear life. He wanted to drive through the Cal Poly campus "for old time sake" (we were in San Luis Obispo all the sudden). He was pointing out to me where his old dorm room was, where he and his friends used to cause mayhem and have fun.... It didn't occur to me to think it strange that he went to Cal Poly. We saw my dog running around, so we scooped her up and kept driving. Suddenly we were in Santa Cruz. I tried to warn him to slow down and stop, but he drove into a pole. He shrugged, smiled, said "let's walk." The pathway to (my?) house was a rickety bridge over murky water. We had to watch where we stepped. I grabbed his hand to guide him through the more precarious sections, but it was no use. He fell through a hole, laughing. I held on to his hand, my dog grabbed his other hand in her mouth, and we pulled him out. He smiled, said "Very strong." Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what it was that I ate last night, but I'd eat it every night if it meant having more dreams like this one. Absolute hilarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about my practice last night. I have friends who practice Ashtanga on Sundays with me. I don't have anyone to share my daily commitment with here in San Luis Obispo. I don't have an instructor to guide me through each practice. It's just me and my mat. And sometimes that can be a blessing. As of late, it's been a bit lonely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111815863724175838?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111815863724175838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111815863724175838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111815863724175838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111815863724175838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/guruji-dreams.html' title='Guruji Dreams'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111808278901986873</id><published>2005-06-06T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-06T11:33:09.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pondering Ink</title><content type='html'>A surprising twist of fate: I made it to class yesterday for led primary! I didn't think it was possible, as I was volunteering at the winery for a 5k run we put on annually for a scholarship program. But I was released earlier than expected, rushed home to change, then off to class! One problem: it was 11 a.m., I'd been rushing around since 7 a.m., and I hadn't eaten a thing. By Mari B, I was bonking and my stomach was growling so loud it brought a laugh or two from others around me. I let my hunger leave my mind and just tried to practice through it. Class was good, not very crowded, but still sweaty. I couldn't get any sort of bind in Supta Kurmasana, but I could feel my fingers touching. It was a little frustrating. I was wearing a short sports top thing since it was cooking in the small studio, but due to this, my arms were slipping off my sweaty back. I did hold a strong &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/29b-Urdhva-Muka-Paschimottanasana.html"&gt;Urdhva Muka Paschimottanasana&lt;/a&gt;. Ever since &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/04/sf-with-guruji-co.html"&gt;Guruji in SF&lt;/a&gt; this asana has been a lot easier and more fun. In my vinyasas, I felt like I was kind of flopping all over the place. I wasn't feeling very strong at all throughout the practice, but three people came up to me and complimented me on my practice and my progress. Huh? I guess it just goes to show that you truly can be your biggest critic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had lunch with The Republican who had driven up to run the 5K that morning. It was great to see him. As is our usual, we ate well, drank well, and completely avoided any political topics of conversation. We did talk for a bit about tattoos. He's very strongly against tattoos, and was a little taken aback when he learned that I had one. I don't think I fit into the image he has of someone who would have a tattoo. We had a big discussion about social acceptance of tattoos a few months ago at sushi when Tay mentioned that he was getting his tattoo redone. The Republican thinks tattos are just for social misfits and are still unacceptable in any kind of mainstream or professional environment. "What are you going to do if you apply for a job?" Well, if someone doesn't hire me because I have a tattoo, that's discrimination and perhaps I don't want to work for that someone. "What are you going to do when you're old and you're covered in tattoos?" Well, one or two tattoos is not exactly "covered." And if I ever feel like I can't stand my tattoos, I'll just have them removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much talk of tattoos as of late. My husband's been debating about his for a few years now. He designed his tattoo and had it inked back in '92, a few years before tribal bands got big. He hates his tat, thinks it makes him look like every other schmuck, frat-boy or football player out there who ran out to get a tribal band to make their biceps look tough and burly. He's finally decided on an artist, knows he wants a half sleeve from his upper arm to up around his shoulder, thinks he knows what he wants, just needs the artist to put his ideas on to paper. Me, I want to get another tattoo, too. I've been thinking about it for years..... But where to have it done? I was thinking about cuffs around my wrists, but that may be a bit too public for me. My other tattoo is in a very private spot, and I like that. But for my next ink, I don't want it to be hidden away for only my husband and ob-gyn to see ;). Maybe my mid-back. I was also thinking it'd be cool to have something that curved along my right side... from my hip up to just below my armpits, but this might stretch and distort if (when?) I get pregnant. What am I going to have done, you may ask? Well, that all depends on where I decide to put it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111808278901986873?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111808278901986873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111808278901986873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111808278901986873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111808278901986873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/pondering-ink.html' title='Pondering Ink'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111794386464315532</id><published>2005-06-04T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-04T20:57:44.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Saturday afternoon at the beach. So why, do you ask, am I writing in this thing? Well, a day at the beach with my husband usually consists of him windsurfing and me hiding from the wind as best I can. So, I spend half the time huddled on the beach with a book and half the time huddled in the car with a book. But, it’s beautiful, I enjoy watching Tay play in the surf, I get to relax a bit, and Kula chases every bird she can until she’s limpin gimpin tired. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to reply to Cameron’s comments on my last post with another comment, but it got lengthy, so I thought I could include it in a normal post. Yes, my husband is a Republican. But, he’s also a Gemini, so he has some conflicts and contradictions. He tried to like George Bush for the longest time, but I kept at it. I think he now realizes most of Bush’s flaws, although he’s not nearly as passionate and resolute as I. What he seems to like most about Bush is his “Good ol’ boy” image, his stubborn resolve, his redneck accent and tendencies, and his lack of polish and grammatical blunders. I don’t know, perhaps he sees a little of himself in this. Ironically enough, these are some of the things that irk me the most about our pres. Those and his actions, of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband grew up in Idaho. He was a meat and potatoes kind of guy when I met him. He still eats meat, and potatoes…. But drinks soymilk and often chooses tofu when given the option at restaurants or at home. This may not seem like much, but it’s pretty good for a guy from Idaho who grew up hunting and fishing. He’s not a very political guy. I never even knew he was a Republican until we were engaged, 3 years after I met and fell in love with him. For some folks, dating outside of their party isn’t even a possibility. I figure there are worse things a person could be besides Republican. Besides, it was too late! I had already said yes! J &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither of us vote based upon our parties, anyways. We sit down before election day with the initiatives and candidates and read through them. Sometimes we tell eachother who we’re voting for. Sometimes we don’t. I’m registered Democrat, but tend to vote Green most often. Tay’s registered Republican, but often votes Democrat. (Not often Green, but every once in a while. More apt to vote Green if he doesn’t know it’s Green.) Last November, I told Tay if he votes for Bush, he will get no bush. From me, that is. ;)  He claimed he voted for Kerry. I choose to believe him. But, it’s his right to vote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the beach. I’m tired. My shoulders are sore. I feel like a wrung-out mop. Yesterday I left work early to get to my friend’s Vinyasa class. It was crowded, so I was stuck in the front of the room, right next to the heater. I was drenched by my 3rd Surya Namaskara B. Dripping. It was a good class, but she pushed me a bit too far in an adjustment in Dhanurasana. She sat behind me and pulled my ankles back with her hands. Then with her feet, she pushed against my back. This caused all the arch to stem from my lower back, and I gasped and whimpered in pain. She released me, and I was fine, but this morning I was mighty tight and tender in my lower back. She always takes her time in the Urdva Dhanurasana sequence, letting the class come down for several breaths in between each one. I took advantage of this time by doing my 3 U.D.’s, coming down just to the top of my head for 1 breath between each one. Then I stood up from my last backbend and did 3 dropbacks with sloppy stand-ups. But at least I stood up each time. Progress is slow, but it’s there. After class, Tay and I went out to Tsurugi’s for dinner. My instructor friend was there with her husband, so we got a table together and enjoyed great conversation, great sake, and amazing Sushi. Ah, sushi. I could eat good sushi every day. My friend’s husband is also an ashtangi, and we spoke at length of the fate of the Yoga Way and our Sunday led class (the ONLY ashtanga class offered in SLO). We came to the conclusion that if it does close and is no longer offered, we will find a place to practice (vet’s hall maybe?) and take turns leading and offering minor adjustments. I'm fine with self practice mysore-style, but I think I'm the only one among the group who has a regular (daily? Well.... not as of late.... but I'll get it back) ashtanga practice and can remember the series completely without cheat sheets. I've always had a good memory, too. That probably helps a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning was a slow one, partially due to all that sake the night before. We hit up a coffee shop for some breakfast burritos and Joe, did a little shopping downtown, then back home. Tay took a nap while I rolled out the mat. Saturday practice. I justified that since I took two other days off this week, it's okay to practice on rest day. Practice today was sweaty. It started out shaky, since the pollen count’s high right now. I sneezed, sniffed, and coughed my way through standing, but must have cleared out the allergens by primary, because after Purvottanasana, I was good to go. Good practice. I couldn’t bind my hands in Supta K, yelled for Tay to come help me. (Probably sounded something like "Mmmmph! mmphmphmmphmmm mmph.")He got my fingers to touch, but by the time he got out to me and stopped laughing at me long enough to help me, I had been in the pose for a good 15 breaths. I was starting to get a little claustrophobic. So I said “K, thanks,” (or "mph. Mph!") and almost kicked him in the face as I rose up to tittibasana. He jumped back, “whoa!” OOPS. Pressed on for full primary today. It just felt right to keep going, so I did. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back home now after a few beers and tacos at Taco Temple. Off to the couch to watch a flick. Either "The Weeping Camel," or "Weapons of Mass Deception." I think the camel one would be better. Get my mind off of three more years of our pres. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111794386464315532?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111794386464315532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111794386464315532' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111794386464315532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111794386464315532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/saturday-afternoon-at-beach.html' title=''/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111785423992346134</id><published>2005-06-03T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T20:07:47.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bush-Whacking</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about our current pres as of late. Actually, I think about him quite often, but usually try to push it out of my mind so as not to dwell on it. The Good dwells on it. I can see it eating away at her constantly. All I have to do is mention the word "conservative," and it's all over. I'm in for a 15 minute sermon and I have to calm her down. "I'm on your team! I'm on your team. You don't need to convince me of anything." November and December were very down times in our little liberal office. June rolls around, we've grown accustomed to our discontent and frustration. But, 3 more years of it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been thinking about our current pres. Now that The Republican has moved out of the house in April, it hasn't been as pressing. I don't have to listen to him spoutin off on how liberals are ruining the country while he watches Fox News. Don't get me wrong, I love The Republican. He's a great guy in many many ways. We just don't see eye to eye. Actually, I could never imagine seeing things through his eyes. But I respect him for other reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been thinking about.... well.... you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if his speech writers write "down" for him. You know, like if you're going to help your friend write his term paper, and (let's sugarcoat it) he's not quite the word whiz you are. You purposely include some misspelled words, incorrect punctuation, and maybe some noun verb mismatches or something. So the speech writers think, "well, the american public knows he's a bumbling idiot, so we can't let him sound too intelligent." Otherwise, we may suspect something. So maybe it's not all his fault that he sounds like yer cusin from the sticks. Maybe it's not his fault that all of his speeches are peppered with horrible, repetitive elements like "freedom-haters" and "tyranny." I think he probably just gets a rush from saying those three and four syllable words. Or hyphenated words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about this "tyrrany" thing. Our pres is showing himself to be a bit tyrranical as well. The Republican doesn't understand why there are Iraqi insurgents. He thinks the people of Iraq should welcome us with open arms. Because we're bringing "democracy" to the huddled, tired, oppressed masses of Iraq. Democracy? What do we know about democracy? Our government is not democratic. Our government is capitalistic. So I tried to put it in to perspective. What if a communist country invaded our country? What if they tried to save us from the "tyrranical democracy" with communism? They believe strongly in these values, why shouldn't we? Would we accept it with open arms? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I'd just like to say, Peace is Patriotic. I'm tired of hearing, "That's UnAmerican. So many of the things we're doing right now in Iraq and in our own country is "UnAmerican." Do you think our founding fathers had this in mind when they wrote our constitution? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So seriously, who's going to save us? When am I going to be proud to be an american again? When can I stop planning my move to New Zealand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give up. I need to take a shower and cool off a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sushi here I come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111785423992346134?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111785423992346134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111785423992346134' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111785423992346134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111785423992346134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/bush-whacking.html' title='Bush-Whacking'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111774568955963634</id><published>2005-06-02T13:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T13:54:49.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoa.</title><content type='html'>I fell out of &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/fundamental-asanas/6-Parsvottanasana.html"&gt;parsvottanasana&lt;/a&gt; today. Twice. One was just a little wobble. The other was a full on "thud." What's that all about? Must have been last night's tequila. Jumped through with straight legs once this morning... first time ever! Tried again on the next vinyasa, jammed my legs into the ground. Apparently it's a once in a while kind of thing for now. Well, okay. Standing up on drop-backs.... still a thing of the past. I fell forward on to my knees on all three attempts. I guess it's better than on my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and we got a roommate! Whew. Hope he's not psycho. Our neighbors are thinking of getting a restraining order for their ex psycho roommate. It's a scary world out there. I think I'll climb back in bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111774568955963634?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111774568955963634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111774568955963634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111774568955963634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111774568955963634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/06/whoa.html' title='Whoa.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111758504283222172</id><published>2005-05-31T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-31T17:27:07.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thump.</title><content type='html'>Standing up from dropbacks? yeah, can't seem to do that anymore. Instead I fall on my butt. Hard. Repeatedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got home yesterday afternoon, putzed around for a while, opened a cold beer, felt guilty for drinking the beer after sitting on my ass in a car for 3 hrs and eathing nothing but CRAP all day, put the full beer down, and rolled out the ole mat for a very shaky Primary. I almost gave up twice. In fact, after the Paschimottanasanas, I did my 3 U.D.'s. Then I sat for a while, irked at myself for allowing a monkey mind and my shaky, oversugared body get in the way of my practice. So I reentered primary at &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/09-Purvattanasana.html"&gt;purvottanasana&lt;/a&gt;. A little unconventional, but I was proud of myself for making something out of almost nothing. I was determined in round two, with a strong, fast ujjayi breath, jumpbacks on every vinyasa, but shaky shaky shaky. Damn fast food. I went into finishing after Supta Kurmasana. I'm not ready to give myself garbha pindasana again for obvious reasons (okay, if you're just tuning in, I don't have padmasana due to knee injuries), so my self enforced stopping point is Supta K. Drop-backs were great. I was able to control them a little more with my exhale (instead of exhale a little, hold my breath and go flying down to my hands). But as I mentioned earlier, every time I'd try to stand up, Thump. On my butt. I attribute this to the damn fast food, as well. Blech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke up with a sinus headache from hell, so no practice. This afternoon and this evening I have a couple of girls coming to look at the room, and I have to go grocery shopping, so no practice. Grrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a positive note, I found lactose free ice cream at Vons this morning. I haven't had ice cream since I was 19. I'm very very excited to try this, but a little worried, as I am lactarded, and the byproducts of lactose are not pretty for anyone around me, especially myself. Ouch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111758504283222172?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111758504283222172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111758504283222172' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111758504283222172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111758504283222172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/thump.html' title='Thump.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111747453156439601</id><published>2005-05-30T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T10:39:30.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Folks' House</title><content type='html'>I had to look back at my posts to see where I've left off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we last left our heroine, she had sacrificed a day of primary for the benefit of her hyperextended knees. Or something like that. Thursday morning I hauled my ass out of bed and rolled out the mat. My knees felt much better, and I was able to get a fairly solid practice in. My back was feeling a bit tight, so I skipped the drop-backs and just continued on to finishing after my 3 &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/31a-Urdhva-Dhanurasana.html"&gt;urdva dhanurasana's&lt;/a&gt;, coming down just to my head in between each one. I checked the clock before &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/finishing-positions/01b-Salamba-Sarvangasana.html"&gt;salamba sarvangasana&lt;/a&gt;, and felt a mild sense of panic creeping on when I realized it was already after 7. I usually like to leave the house for work by 7:30. My rationale: the earlier I get to work, the earlier I can leave work. It took me a year or so to discover that the huge difference between leaving my desk at 4:30 and at 5:00 is so much more than a half hour. It's a whole mind set. If I leave at 4:30, I'm ahead of the curve. I breeze through lines at the bank or the grocery store, and I have dinner ready before 7:00. But back to 7 a.m.. I skipped my inversions in favor of some time for meditation (5 minutes!!! but some is better than none!), just 18 breaths in Uth Pluthi (which is so much more difficult with no Padmasana), quick shower, than off to work. I wish I had had the ability to look into the future, as I had to stay until almost 5:30 to abate a few crises. So the 'early to work, early to home' theory doesn't always work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday's practice was also good. I've been working on my jumpbacks a bit, and I think I've finally got the motion. Before, I was planting my hands just in front of me, as I couldn't figure out how to fit my crossed legs between my hands. I think I've got it now. On my exhale, I use my bandhas to pull my knees into my chest as I lift my body off, lean forward with my upper body, then throw my legs back through my arms to chaturanga. Of course, all this takes place in one second. This is definitely a jumpback, and now I'd like to finesse it a bit to make it more of a floatback. But I definitely need to work on my bandha strength. I did two dropbacks after my U.D.'s, stood up, but on the first I fell forward onto my knees. But it's coming along quickly. At this point, I can't imagine ever getting the breath right. I exhale on my dropback, or maybe I start to exhale, then grunt and hold my breath. Then my hands reach the floor. Then I pant for about three seconds. Sometimes longer. Then I walk my hands in, then I come up to my fingertips. Then I pant some more. I think I may hold my breath at this point, too. I probably am chanting in my mind, "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...." Then I stand up. And possibly fall forward. All very silly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left for Santa Cruz friday evening after work. We stopped in at Jaffa Cafe, a little greek place for some Gyros on the go. Got in to Santa Cruz at about 9:30. Kula loves coming to my folks' house. First off, there's cats. My poor mother ended up with two cats that aren't even hers. One is mine, one is Yellow's. The cats pretty much scatter when Kula comes, which is for the best. Also, there's wilderness. Lots of big trees, a creek, and tons of quail, doves, robins, jays, and squirrels. Kula goes nuts. She's been running for 3 days straight. She'll be exhausted and depressed when we get back to SLO and the only wilderness she gets is the weeds in our backyard. Saturday morning we were up bright and early for my mom's graduation. She got her masters in education from SJSU, along with her best friend. It was great to see them, they were so excited and they've both worked so hard. My mother works 60+ hours a week, sometimes putting in 12 hour days. On top of this, for two years she went to night classes for her masters. Impressive. After the graduation, us kids (me, Tay, my brother, and his girlfriend who's also my college roommate and very good friend) stopped for lunch in Los Gatos. This whole "my brother's dating my friend" thing has turned out to be a great situation. It was good to spend time with them, then we all went back to the house to help my mom and dad prep for a party. Graduation party? No. My dad's 60th birthday party. It was a great time, lots of food, lots of wine (all Talley, of course!), and lots of old friends with great stories to share about my pop. Tay and I took a lazy morning to ourselves yesterday, headed downtown to the Pacific Garden Mall for breakfast at Walnut Street Cafe. On the way home, I saw a sale at the Patagonia outlet, so made Tay stop. Good thing we stopped. I love Patagonia.... but it's just too durn overpriced. The outlet prices make the products much more financially feasible. And this weekend was their annual sale: 40% off everything in the store. 40% off of the OUTLET PRICES. Hells yes, ain't that fresh. Taylor got a couple of jackets, I got a jacket, some yoga pants, a yoga top, and some long john bottoms. All this for $300. At retail, this is over $700 worth of stuff! We made out like bandits. Tay dropped me off at the house and headed out for a mountain bike ride. I got a good sweaty practice in, complete with jumpbacks through out and 4 dropbacks. Now, off to pack and sit in the car for a few hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111747453156439601?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111747453156439601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111747453156439601' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111747453156439601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111747453156439601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/folks-house.html' title='Folks&apos; House'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111722662606195732</id><published>2005-05-27T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-27T13:43:46.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Room for Rent</title><content type='html'>We're in the midst of some serious stress right now stemming from the lack of potential roommates. The Republican moved out May 1st, and we wanted to be picky with our roommate selection, so we ended up paying the extra rent for the month of May. Now, June 1 is just around the corner, and we still haven't found a roommate that we both like and who likes us. Anyone want to rent a room? Anyone? We're really cool people, and we have a really nice house. I'll even cook you dinner. Honest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111722662606195732?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111722662606195732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111722662606195732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111722662606195732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111722662606195732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/room-for-rent.html' title='Room for Rent'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111702891425625333</id><published>2005-05-25T06:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T06:48:34.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June Gloom.... In May?</title><content type='html'>Looks like June Gloom is settling in early today. Heavy fog has creeped over the hills and blanketed the whole valley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the practice front: Monday was a moonday, and I revelled in the rest. Tuesday a.m. there was no way I was getting out of bed (I'm attributing these impossible mornings to my allergies), so I practiced after work. I always feel a bit rushed and a little guilty in my afternoon practices, but on the other hand, it's so nice to SWEAT! In the mornings, I think I break a dew. In the afternoons, I break a monsoon of sweat. I had a strong, good practice. My navasanas are much more effortless (but not by any means &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;effortless&lt;/span&gt;) than they were three weeks ago. Jumping into &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20b-Bhuja-Pindasana.html"&gt;bhujapindasana&lt;/a&gt; is coming, but inconsistently. Sometimes I make it, sometimes I don't jump high enough onto my arms, and I have to come down to standing first. I bound a finger in on my own in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21b-Supta-Kurmasana.html"&gt;supta kurmasana&lt;/a&gt; for like 2 seconds, then slipped. Tried to find that finger again, but couldn't get it back. My knees are feeling much better. The only poses I have to modify are just the padmasana and half padmasana poses. I've got all my Janu Sirsasanas back. And! It wasn't pretty, but I stood up on my own from a dropback! I had to take a few steps forward to catch my balance. Now to work on sticking it. I don't have to sit in virasana in place of padmasana for finishing anymore. I can just sit simple cross legged. Amen, sista. Of course, now that I mentioned that my knees are starting to heal, I'm hurting in a brand new area. In the crim class I attended last Wednesday, we repeatedly went into Chindrasana, Ardha Chindrasana, and Viribhadrasana 3. I must have been hyperextending my knees. Since that practice, the backs of my knees are very sore. I've never noticed any hyperextension in my practice before, but I noticed it yesterday and worked on correcting it. I'm a stomach sleeper, and all night my knees were begging to be bent. They kept me up for the better part of the night. This morning as I moved through my first few sun salutations, sharp pain behind my right knee. So I gave it a rest, and worked on some strength work for those jump backs. I'll take some anti-inflammatorys and work some magic with ice and then with castor oil wraps, and hopefully I'll be set for either an afternoon practice or tomorrow's morning practice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111702891425625333?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111702891425625333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111702891425625333' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111702891425625333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111702891425625333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/june-gloom-in-may.html' title='June Gloom.... In May?'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111682580988643083</id><published>2005-05-22T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T22:23:29.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On To Something</title><content type='html'>In my previous post this afternoon, I casually commented that it was unfortunate that "modify" was my new mantra. I would like to correct myself, and expand on what it was that I was trying to express. It is unfortunate that I have an injury or two. It is unfortunate that I am having so many problems with my knees. It is not unfortunate that I am having to modify my practice. I mentioned in an &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/03/practice.html"&gt;earlier post&lt;/a&gt; that the hard days are the practices that count the most. Alan Little has much to say in &lt;a href="http://www.alanlittle.org/weblog/YogaClass.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; of his brilliant blog that concurs. So I am learning with every practice things that I wish I had had the opportunity to learn earlier, before I injured myself. Personally, the ultimate benefit of practicing at home remains the complete lack of self-consciousness. While the goal in a class setting is to leave your ego at the door, that is asking a lot in our western, overly-competitive society. My home practice benifits me in that it teaches me the value and the necessity of an ahimsa practice. And from here, I can carry these learnings into my classes and I can check that ego before I hit the mat. Over the past two months, my knee injury has brought a good ammount of stress into my yoga practice. My coworkers have noticed and have commented. I was stressed about going to practice with SKPJ &amp; Co. with a less than perfect practice. I was stressed about getting my practices in. I was stressed about taking a week off of asana. Too much stress. Too much ahimsa. And now, I hope, I have learned and can absorb all of this into my lifetime practice. Physically, there is no "goal" in yoga. It is the spiritual growth one should be pursuing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111682580988643083?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111682580988643083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111682580988643083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111682580988643083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111682580988643083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/on-to-something.html' title='On To Something'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111681258265378987</id><published>2005-05-22T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T18:43:02.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/31218093@N00/15180673/"&gt;Kula's&lt;/a&gt; in the backyard, stalking birds and butterflies. My book's on the patio with my lawn chair and a bottle of sunscreen. My mysore rug is in the wash after I soaked it with sweat this morning at led class. It's 78 degrees outside, and it's a lazy Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practice today was interesting. The Pelt had expressed interest in attending, so I went over to his place and took him through a mini tutorial with the aid of David Swenson's book. I was counting on Jenn to help him through some of the more difficult poses, but she had a sub today: Yogasushi's husband. So The Pelt was kind of on his own, but he hung in there. He needs asana. He has some seriously tight hamstrings. But he sweat like crazy, and I think he enjoyed it. As for me, my knees still hurt. I was able to bind in&lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/02-Ardha-Baddha-Padmottanasana.html"&gt; Ardha Baddha Padmotanasana &lt;/a&gt; with my right leg for the first time in weeks, but the left (this is the knee with the LCL sprain) is still not there. Modify, modify, modify.  This, unfortunately, has become my mantra. Reflecting back, nothing stands out. I added handstands between Navasana, just for kicks, but I don't know if I want to make that a regular part of my daily practice. Just felt like I wanted the extra extension. Still can't stand up from drop backs. I need help on this one. I used the wall today. Drop back on my own, walk my hands and feet to the wall, walk my hands in as far as is comfy, come up to my fingertips, try to shift my pelvis forward, and this is where I get stuck. I've stood up once unassisted, and I have no idea how I managed it. Funny. So now that The Pelt has deduced that ashtanga is indeed quite a workout, maybe he can convince Tay to give it a try. Miracles do happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111681258265378987?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111681258265378987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111681258265378987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111681258265378987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111681258265378987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/lazy-sunday.html' title='Lazy Sunday'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111662682180968230</id><published>2005-05-20T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T13:44:18.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilt and Dahl</title><content type='html'>We went to Novo last night, which is a favorite of ours. I had the Dahl. I'm thinking maybe there may have been some kind of dairy product in it, because I woke up this morning with serious intestinal cramping that even a few rounds of Nauli couldn't shake. I still tried to practice, but gave up after Marichyasana A since forward bends were only increasing the discomfort and instead played with some Navasanas with handstands and then tried &lt;a href="http://p196.ezboard.com/fyoga84291frm3.showMessageRange?topicID=825.topic&amp;start=41&amp;stop=60"&gt;Doug's (Tat Tvam Amasi's) prescription for a floaty handstand from the EZBoard forum&lt;/a&gt;. Wow, those are tough. I could see where this could improve your shoulder and bandha strength tenfold. I'm hoping to get a practice in this afternoon as I'm feeling much better, but we'll see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My weekend is shaping up to be a fun one, but that's only if my guilt subsides. I have a friend who was once a very close friend. She now lives in Sonora (about 6 hours drive from here) and last year started dating a guy who was the youth pastor of a church up there. She then "found the Lord" in that born-again, overzealous, "let me tell you about Jesus and how he can save you, too" sort of way. After a very very short engagement (maybe three months?) she's getting married tomorrow, and we're all just shaking our heads in disbelief. I hope she'll be very happy. But the decisions she's been making as of late are just not at all characteristic of the friend I once knew, and it frightens me a little. I was supposed to attend the reception tomorrow. I wasn't invited to the ceremony, which was strange, but probably for the best as I have no doubt it would be a very long religious christian ceremony. I decided not to go yesterday afternoon after much deliberation and lots of guilt. Its not out of lack of support, more out of a little car trouble, a lack of R &amp; R time as of late, and a lot of work that I'm behind on. Oh, and the 12 hours in the car for a 3 hour reception seemed a little much, especially since I tend to fall asleep at the wheel after 2 hours of driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tay's gone for the weekend, but a few of my old college roommates are coming into town for the Paso Robles Wine Fest, so I'll spend some time with them to distract myself from my guilt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111662682180968230?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111662682180968230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111662682180968230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111662682180968230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111662682180968230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/guilt-and-dahl.html' title='Guilt and Dahl'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111651010501730156</id><published>2005-05-19T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T08:43:08.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quag Dab Peg</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Quag Dab Peg&lt;/span&gt;, to the Hmong people, translates as "the spirit catches you and you fall down." The spirit is the soul stealing &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Dab&lt;/span&gt;, prevalent in most Hmong cultural beliefs, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;peg&lt;/span&gt; means to catch or hit, and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;quag&lt;/span&gt; means to fall over while one's roots are still firmly in the ground, as grasses might be beaten down by wind or rain. In a hmong-english dictionary, the translation is simply "epilepsy," as the Hmong believe that this is what is happening when a person goes into an epileptic seizure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the spirit caught me yesterday in bhujapidasana, and I fell down. On my nose. Kind of hard, too, since I had just jumped into it, and hadn't quite put on all the "air brakes" yet. Lucky for me, I have a very soft nose. And soft carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned my alarm on Tuesday night, assuming it was set correctly. It wasn't, so I had to practice yesterday after work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Afternoon vs. Morning Practice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;the pros and cons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind is more fresh&lt;br /&gt;My body is tight&lt;br /&gt;My stomach is empty, making deep twists more pleasant &lt;br /&gt;My knees don't hurt as much (probably the overnight Castor Oil wraps)&lt;br /&gt;It's easier to focus&lt;br /&gt;It's quiet at my house&lt;br /&gt;It's cold, I don't break much of a sweat&lt;br /&gt;My meditation carries me through my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Afternoon (or evening)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My body is warm&lt;br /&gt;My knees hurt&lt;br /&gt;My mind wanders&lt;br /&gt;My heart rate is fast and its hard to slow down my breathing&lt;br /&gt;Mari B and D are more difficult with food in the stomach&lt;br /&gt;I'm stronger&lt;br /&gt;I sweat&lt;br /&gt;I'm more flexible&lt;br /&gt;I feel guilty for not doing other things: cooking dinner, taking the dog for a walk, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there it is. Bottom line: Morning practice is best for me. Yesterday's practice was enjoyable, rewarding, and strong, but I had difficulties slowing down my breath. I had to roll out my rug by the second Surya Namaskara B, which was nice since I hardly ever need my rug in the mornings. My house is cool, and I can't justify turning the heater on in late May to my husband. My knees are still a pain, but I've learned to adjust. As I previously mentioned, I fell in Bhujapindasana, got up, tried it again, and stuck it the second time. I stopped after that and went in to finishing. Did 3 dropbacks, but can't stand up. Tay helped me, and he helped me a lot.  &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/vanessa/archives/001961.html"&gt;Vanessa&lt;/a&gt; mentioned standing up was much easier for her. I guess everyone's practice truly is their own, as dropping back was a cinch. And I can kick up into a handstand pretty easily. But standing up.... Feels like it's a lifetime away. Which is fine, I've got my whole life ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I did remember to set my alarm, and turn it on. So I woke up in time to practice. My sinuses and my nose were extremely congested, so I took some Afrin. This loosened things up way too much. I was blowing my nose every 5 minutes, coughing, sniffling, made it through standing, then gave up, did some seated meditation and light pranayama (or tried to....), then up for the morning routine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about Scrabble a lot lately. I miss it. So I'm trying to rally The Pelt and a few others, but it's difficult to find a night that's free for everyone. So in the mean time, I read so I can have an edge on all those folks who just sit and watch TV. But I know The Pelt has been reading too..... As &lt;a href="http://www.katstan.net"&gt;KJS&lt;/a&gt; has said, he's a &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/04/day-four-and-still-nagging.html"&gt;megalitomaniac&lt;/a&gt;, so I can get him on points even if I can't get him on 6-letter words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a beautiful morning here on the Central Coast, it's Thursday, so we all feast on Sara's incredible cooking, and I love my job. Things are good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111651010501730156?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111651010501730156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111651010501730156' title='33 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111651010501730156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111651010501730156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/quag-dab-peg.html' title='Quag Dab Peg'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>33</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111626310292806168</id><published>2005-05-16T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-16T10:05:02.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Floundering</title><content type='html'>First 5 a.m. practice in two weeks today, which in itself was no small feat. I felt like a two ton whale on my mat this morning. No grace, no balance, short and tight hamstrings. It took me over half an hour just to get to my seated poses. I kept having to take a moment and "refocus" on my breathing, on my driste, on my practice. Plus there was a spider on the ceiling. And this caused me serious distress throughout practice. "Spider driste." Then he mysteriously disappeared, which brought upon me several moments of utter panic. By &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20b-Bhuja-Pindasana.html"&gt;bhujapidasana&lt;/a&gt;, I'd forgotten about him. I've been working on &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/20a-Bhuja-Pindasana-Vinyasa-in.html"&gt;jumping into that pose&lt;/a&gt; instead of jumping, landing with my feet around my hands, then leaning forward to take my feet up and cross them. Today.... I got it! I feel like I've had a few strange and unexpected breakthroughs the past week or so. I attribute these to the complete loss of &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/finishing-positions/10-Padmasana.html"&gt;padmasana&lt;/a&gt; or half-padmasana poses. I know, strange, but my knees have proved a nuisance since day one with these poses (okay... its really my hips, but my knees are the ones complaining). Now that I'm not focusing all of my mental energy on these poses, others are really developing. Also, I'm developing more bandha strength to complement my existing upper body strength. But, back to bhujapidasana. Took it back to &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/intermediate-series/18a-Tittibhasana-A.html"&gt;tittibasana&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/intermediate-series/11-Bakasana-A.html"&gt;bakasana&lt;/a&gt;, then &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/surya-namaskara-a/04-Chaturanga-Dandasana.html"&gt;chatwari&lt;/a&gt;, vinyasa, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21a-Kurmasana.html"&gt;kurmasana&lt;/a&gt; (pretty ugly.... remember: tight hamstrings today), &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21b-Supta-Kurmasana.html"&gt;supta kurmasana &lt;/a&gt;(also ugly, but still felt amazing), great vinyasa out with (what felt like) picture perfect &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21c-Supta-Kurmasana-Vinyasa-out.html"&gt;tittibasana&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21e-Supta-Kurmasana-Vinyasa-out.html"&gt;bakasana&lt;/a&gt;, chatwari, then collapse in a quivering, panting heap on my mat. Humbled. Bewildered. And kind of surprised at myself. I went into backbends after that. Now I'm feeling those drop backs. Wow. Stood up for dropbacks after 4 UD's, dropped back, couldn't even budge for standing up. Not an inch. Stuck stuck stuck. Really stuck. And no hubby in sight to help me with coming up (lazy, lucky guy was still in bed). So I laid down, went through chakrasana vinyasa, and on to finishing. Rats. Virasana again in place of padmasana. But I think I'm getting closer to normal knees again. One quart of castor oil and two bottles of advil and two weeks of babying them is all it takes, I guess. That, and hopes and prayers and screaming and tearing my hair out. Am slowly learning how to LET GO, stop pushing, and accept those things I have no control over. Hallelujah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my iPod: &lt;br /&gt;Fevered, The Stills&lt;br /&gt;It Never Entered My Mind, Miles Davis&lt;br /&gt;So Says I, The Shins&lt;br /&gt;Twilight, Elliott Smith&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111626310292806168?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111626310292806168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111626310292806168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111626310292806168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111626310292806168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/floundering.html' title='Floundering'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111619106805875685</id><published>2005-05-15T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T14:04:28.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fruity!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/31218093@N00/14027223/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos9.flickr.com/14027223_d6ed17c8d6_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/31218093@N00/14027223/"&gt;P1010028&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/31218093@N00/"&gt;jennasuz&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Remember, 5 a day!&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111619106805875685?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111619106805875685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111619106805875685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111619106805875685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111619106805875685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/fruity.html' title='Fruity!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111619101720734217</id><published>2005-05-15T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T14:03:37.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diaper Dash</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/31218093@N00/14027645/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos10.flickr.com/14027645_87101ecd09_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/31218093@N00/14027645/"&gt;P1010035&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/31218093@N00/"&gt;jennasuz&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Cheering on the little ones in the Diaper Dash.&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111619101720734217?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111619101720734217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111619101720734217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111619101720734217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111619101720734217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/diaper-dash.html' title='Diaper Dash'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111617163662502519</id><published>2005-05-15T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T08:40:36.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm The Banana</title><content type='html'>Yes, that's right. In a few short minutes I will go through a significant transformation. I'll become &lt;a href="http://www.jambajuice.com/community/bananaman.html"&gt;The Bananaman&lt;/a&gt;. And everyone will chase me. I'll cause excitement and mayhem. For the 8 mile run? Hell No. Oh, the 5K? No Way Jose. I'm running the 100 yard dash with the 6-year olds. Then I'll sweat it out with the toddlers in the diaper dash. I've always wanted to be chock full of potassium. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days have been very busy, but very fun. We had my party Thursday night, a fiesta bar-b-q with tacos de carne asada or marinated grilled tofu. Lots of margaritas y cervezas. I had a great time, but that's the last time I have my birthday party at my own house. I just can't fully enjoy my guests because I'm too worried about being a good hostess. Luckily, I also have a hard time drinking when I'm hostessing. So work on Friday was just fine. I could've been a mess had we gone to sushi like I originally wanted. Friday, another non-ashtanga yoga class. But it was a good class, and my knee is really starting to feel a lot better. Time and patience. Did more drop backs, but got stuck coming up and needed a little help. Any tips? Friday night, off to Taco Temple with my parents and the husband for Day Three of my birthday celebration. If anyone finds themselves in Morro Bay for some reason or another, they should definitely hit up this locals paradise. Great, healthy, fresh fish tacos (or any other kind, really) piled high with green leaf lettuce, carrots, cabbage, avocado, tomatoes, and salsa. Really great food. Really. Came home for more birthday cake (good god, no more cake, please!) and PRESENTS! Mom and Dad did good, like always. Two new yoga tops and a pair of Ono pants from Prana, a really cool purse/bag that has a hundred pouches, and some great clothes. Mom opened her mothers' day gift, and then we watched a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashtanga on Saturday! I know, a little crim, but considering almost every other day has been my rest day I thought it would be okay. And I was dying to wear my new prana gear. I still had to skip/modify quite a few poses, but overall I felt pretty strong. I only practiced up to Navasana, then backbends and finishing. I think that's where I'll stay for the next week or so, or at least until I can get Marichyasana B and D back without modifying. We'll see, because I have a feeling I'm going to really start missing the Kurmasanas. Those two poses are my favorite, even though I find them extremely challenging. In finishing, I came into Virasana instead of Padmasana. Also crim, but I can barely approximate sitting indian style at this point in time, and I wanted to just sit and meditate for some time. Virasana is my best option at this point. Then Supta Virasana, then Savasana. A great close to my patchy practice. I wrapped the knees up last night with some castor oil, and they're feeling a bit better. I'm now having "sympathy pains" in my right knee. I think it's my MCL. Jenn said she thought it was due to the misalignment in my pelvis she corrected last week. Bodies are strange things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am off to become BANANAMAN to save the children from non-nutritious food choices and obesity!!!! Also off to battle the pollen war of the decade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111617163662502519?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111617163662502519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111617163662502519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111617163662502519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111617163662502519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/im-banana.html' title='I&apos;m The Banana'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111593698763470403</id><published>2005-05-13T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T15:36:31.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rebellion!</title><content type='html'>Some thoughts on my birthday (Tuesday): &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is up with the wind? It's bad enough that I'm surrounded by vineyards and farm land. In the vineyards alone, each stamen on each bud on each bunch on each vine houses 20,000 pollen grains. There are 5 stamens on each bud. There are numerous buds in each bunch, and there are countless bunches on each vine. So at any given moment come spring time, bajillions of pollen grains are floating into my eyes and up my nose and down my throat, and making my life a living hell. That's right, Bajillions. Oh, and since its springtime, lets add the fact that its always windy in the Arroyo Grande Valley. Tuesday I wanted to rip my face off. Luckily, I may have deadened many of the nerve endings throughout my nose and eyelids in my attempts. So today I just feel numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I restarted ladies' holiday Tuesday. For those of you keeping track (god I hope no one's keeping track.... that'd be kind of creepy) that's the second time this month. Ah, life on The Pill. I'm thinking of ditching that wretched pink pack for something a little less punishing. It's either migraines, extreme depression, nausea, big boobs, and acne with a higher dosage pill, or it's two-ish ladies' holidays per month with my current 'barely-there' low dosage pill. I choose the latter. But it's getting a little old. Despite the ladies' holiday and the &lt;a href="http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/intervention.html"&gt;Ashtanga Intervention&lt;/a&gt;, I chose to go to a yoga class at my gym cause IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, DAMN IT!!!! A small rebellion which, in itself, felt great. Class was frustrating. My knee hung in there okay, it was the class itself I was unhappy with. I never enjoy this class. The teacher is a friend of mine, and I always go into it with a positive attitude, then 10 minutes into it, I'm kinda pissed off. We did so many modified surya namaskara's with all this crazy stuff thrown in, every chaturanga turned into 5 tricep push-ups, then a push back into up dog. Then back to chaturanga. Then up dog. then chaturanga. then up dog. You get the picture, I'm sure. It's yoga calisthenics. Ugh. After our TWO SEATED POSES (Yeah, just two: Janu Sirsasana A and B), she moved us right into shoulder stand with no back bends. I was miffed, and tired of following along, (and I couldn't do inversions anyways) so I took my mat off to the side and went through &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/30-Setu-Bandhasana.html"&gt;Setu Bandhasana&lt;/a&gt;, 3 &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/31a-Urdhva-Dhanurasana.html"&gt;Urdva Dhanurasanas&lt;/a&gt;, 3 &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/intermediate-series/07-Ustrasana.html"&gt;Ustrasanas&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/intermediate-series/09c-Kapotasana-A.html"&gt;Kapotasana&lt;/a&gt;, then I stood up and DROPPED BACK AND STOOD BACK UP!!!! (Which I've never done unassisted) I don't know what possessed me, honestly. I just felt like rebelling. Or maybe it was the PMS. I do know, however, that I needed those back bends. I needed that opening, as I had been hunched over my cramps at a computer all day. Afterwards, Yogasushi and I met up with T for (what else) sushi at Tsurugis, ate, drank, and had a great night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More on my birthday later. The celebration continues on through the weekend, as I like to drag this "day" into a week long festival. Now, off to yoga. Still no ashtanga. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111593698763470403?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111593698763470403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111593698763470403' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111593698763470403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111593698763470403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/rebellion.html' title='Rebellion!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111582428877379428</id><published>2005-05-11T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-11T08:11:28.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>B-Day!</title><content type='html'>It's my birthday! My favorite day of the year. And now I'm 26. Happy Birthday, Me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111582428877379428?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111582428877379428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111582428877379428' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111582428877379428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111582428877379428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/b-day.html' title='B-Day!'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111578712341278738</id><published>2005-05-10T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T21:52:03.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WHAT I WOULD BE THINKING ABOUT IF I WERE BILLY JOEL DRIVING TOWARD A HOLIDAY PARTY WHERE I KNEW THERE WAS GOING TO BE A PIANO.&lt;br /&gt;BY MICHAEL IAN BLACK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Found on the greatest website EVER, &lt;a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/"&gt;www.mcsweeneys.net&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Thanks, Pelt)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- - - -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not doing it. I'm just not. I know I say the same thing every year, but this time I mean it—I am not playing it this year. Seriously, how many times can I possibly be expected to play that stupid song? I bet if you counted the number of times I've played it over the years, it probably adds up to, like, a jillion. I'm not even exaggerating. One jillion times. Well, not this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I'm just going to say, "Sorry, folks, I'm only playing holiday songs tonight." Yeah, that's a good plan. That's definitely what I'm going to do, and if they don't like it, tough cookies. It'll just be tough cookies for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know exactly what'll happen. I'll sit down, play a few holiday songs, and then some drunk jerk will yell out, "'Piano Man,'" and everybody will start clapping, and I'll look like a real asshole if I don't play it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if they'll have shrimp cocktail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I think of it, it's always Bob Schimke who yells out, "'Piano Man.'" He does it every year. He gets a couple of Scotches in that fat gut of his, and then it's, "Hey, Billy, play 'Piano Man'!" That guy is such a dick. He thinks he's such a big shot because he manages that stupid hedge fund. Big deal. He thinks because he used to play quarterback for Amherst that everybody should give a shit. I don't. Who cares about you and your stupid hedge fund, Bob? That's what I should say to him this year. I really should. I should just march right up to him and say, "Who cares about your stupid hedge fund, you dick?" Let's just see what Mr. Quarterback has to say about that. And I know he made a pass at Christie that time. She probably liked it—that's probably why she denied it even happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm such a loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I even go to these parties? I mean, honestly, how many times do I need to see Trish and Steve and Lily and that creepy doctor husband of hers and all their rich Long Island friends? Although that Greenstein girl is nice. Maybe she'll be there. What's her name—Alison?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if Alison asks me to play "Piano Man"? Then what? I've got to stick to my guns, that's what. I'll simply say, "Some other time." Yeah, that's good. Kind of like we're making a date or something. And then at the end of the night when we're all getting our coats, I'll turn to her and say something like, "So when do you want to get together and hear 'Piano Man'?" Oh man, that's really good. That's so smooth. After all, how is she going to say no? She's the one who asked to hear it in the first place! Oh man, Billy, that is just perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she'll say something like, "How about right now?" Yeah. And maybe we'll leave together. I can drive her back to my place and I can play her the stupid song and then maybe we'll do it. I'd really like to do it with that Greenstein girl. How awesome would that be? Me leaving with Alison on my arm and Bob's big fat stupid face watching us go. That would be too rich. I'd be real nonchalant about it, too—"See you later, Bob."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I kidding? She'd never go out with me. She was dating that actor for a while. What's his name? Benicio? What kind of name is Benicio? A stupid name, that's what kind. Hi, I'm Benicio. I'm so cool. I'm sooooo cool. I should start going by Billicio. I'm Billicio Del Joelio. I play pianolo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing us a song, you're the piano man ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh great. Now it's in my head. Perfect. Now I have to walk around that stupid party with that stupid song stuck in my head all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amherst sucks at football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what I should do? I should just turn this car around and go home. Just pick up the phone and call them and tell them I ate some bad fish or something. Yeah, that's what I should do. This party's going to suck anyway. By the time I get there, all the shrimp cocktail will probably be gone anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I going to do? Go through my entire life avoiding situations where somebody might ask me to play a song? I can't do that. No, Billy, you've just got to grow yourself a sack and take care of business. And if that loudmouth Bob Schimke requests "Piano Man," I just need to look him in the eye and tell him I'd be happy to play it for him just as soon as he goes ahead and fucks himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to play it. I always play it. Probably the only reason half the people at that party even show up is to hear me play "Piano Man." They probably don't even like me. Not really. They just want to tell all their friends that Billy came and played "Piano Man." Again. Like I'm the loser who's dying to play it. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine. I'll do it, but not because they want me to, but because I want me to. I'm not even going to wait for them to ask. I'm going to march right in there and play the song and that'll be that. I'm not even going to take off my coat first. Yeah. Let's see what Bob has to say about that. I might even play it twice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111578712341278738?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111578712341278738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111578712341278738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111578712341278738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111578712341278738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/what-i-would-be-thinking-about-if-i.html' title=''/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111570664138706566</id><published>2005-05-09T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T23:30:41.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intervention</title><content type='html'>Dinner tonight was excellent. Oh, actually dinner itself was terrible. Company was excellent. Dinner was Japanese tofu stir-fry over brown rice which somehow turned into porridge. So it was stir-fry porridge. I can't wait to get a new stove. Our stovetop is absolutely terrible. T E R R I B L E. I really can't emphasize enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on.... The Other Jenna didn't come over. Some lame excuse about a test or something. Please. It's been 7 years since you started college, you know you never want to finish! Just joshing. Really. Studying is honorable and important. The Fiesty One came over instead. And she and The Pelt staged an Ashtanga Intervention. First they fed me lots of wine, then gave me the terrible stir-fry porridge to weaken my resolve. And then, thus began the barrage. "you're injured. You need to give yourself time to heal. No ashtanga." I am helping The Fiesty One with a &lt;a href="http://www.jambajuice.com/community/bananaman.html"&gt;fund-raiser&lt;/a&gt; for her non profit organization on Sunday. So I had asked if I could volunteer for a super early shift in order to be free to go by 11, in time for Yoga. "No. Absolutely not. I need you until at least 12. And you cannot do Ashtanga." Hmmmmmm.... I tried to argue. "But my yoga instructor is practically a physical therapist! She said it was fine! And my Yoga Hero is a doctor. She said it was fine!" Here's what The Fiesty One said: "That's like if you were a crack addict telling your dealer you wanted to quit. And they'd say, 'no, crack is good.'" And The Pelt said, "You know, sometimes I masturbate. And it feels so good. But when you masturbate too much, it starts to chafe. But you want to keep touching...." Okay, stop equating my yoga practice to your wanker-pulling. Not the same thing. On any level. Period. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know whether I agree with them or not. On one hand, I am extremely mindful of my injury (or like to think I am) when I practice, and it feels so good emotionally to be back on my mat. On the other hand, my knee does feel stiffer and more painful after I practice, so maybe it does need some more time. Maybe I'll take another day off tomorrow. But I'm practicing Wednesday, Dammit. Cause it's my birthday, and I'll practice asana if I damn well please. Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you, Fiesty One. And Pelt, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;just stop touching your little friend&lt;/span&gt;. Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111570664138706566?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111570664138706566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111570664138706566' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111570664138706566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111570664138706566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/intervention.html' title='Intervention'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111569151754498479</id><published>2005-05-09T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T19:18:37.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missed Mornings</title><content type='html'>I take one week off, and 5:15 a.m. feels like 3:30. Couldn't get out of bed this morning. Luckily, T left town today which meant I could squeeze in a practice after work. So I just left my mat. I actually had fun today. Before I hit the mat, I thought to myself "to hell with expectations." So every asana I could approximate was a surprise! "Oh wow! I can do &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/13-Janu-Sirsasana-B.html"&gt;Janu Sirsasana B!&lt;/a&gt;" Seriously, folks. It's come to that. However, since I'm spending less time focusing on the poses, more energy is being channeled into my breath and my bandhas. All Good. I can't tell you how much I've missed backbends and inversions. I'm beginning to walk my hands in quite a bit on my third &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/31a-Urdhva-Dhanurasana.html"&gt;Urdva Dhanurasana&lt;/a&gt;, which is feeling so good. I feel like I could stand up, but fear is holding me back. I wish I had an instructor to help me. As a former gymnast, I used to do tick-tocks and back walk-overs all the time. So I feel like it's only a matter of getting past my fear. All in time. Practice, and all is coming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight The Pelt is coming over for dinner, along with The Other Jenna. The Other Jenna is discovering Ashtanga along with The Samurai, and I've really enjoyed sharing this discovery with both of them. Now to get The Pelt into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh they're here. Must start cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;On my iPod:&lt;br /&gt;The French Kicks, 'One More Time'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111569151754498479?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111569151754498479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111569151754498479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111569151754498479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111569151754498479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/missed-mornings.html' title='Missed Mornings'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111561245505068261</id><published>2005-05-08T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-08T21:29:14.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Weekend</title><content type='html'>Today was a moonday, but it's been a whole week of rest and I needed asana. So I headed to my class. I actually had another agenda in mind as well. I have a birthday coming up. I'll be 26 on Wednesday, and I'm planning on a birthday bash on Thursday, so I wanted to invite the ashtanga crew and I don't have all their numbers. Also, I wanted to get some opinions on what was up with my knee. Seems my diagnosis was correct, it is a strain of my LCL. Good news is I don't have to do anything drastic beyond resting it and giving it time to heal. Relief. Now I don't have to go see a doctor and have him tell me I can't injure myself in yoga. Those doctors. Framed doctorate diplomas don't mean all that much to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class was an exercise in acceptance, ahimsa, and patience. I had a great connection to my breath and bandhas, a good practice as long as you're not judging upon my bent-knee and padmasana asanas. I did what I could, modified what I couldn't, and just loved every moment of my return. Since I couldn't do much with most of the asanas, I focused on my vinyasas, my bandhas, my shoulders in chatwaris and updogs, and tried to make my jump-throughs as floaty as possible. A week away from my mat, and my strenght has not left me. Hoo-Ray. Strange, my inner right knee was bothering me. My injury is on the outside of my left knee. I mentioned it to Jenn. She thought I may have some misalignment in my hip flexors. She had me lay down, and sure enough my left leg was longer than my right. So she did this funky adjustment, POP, and my legs were even again! She also related to me that when she has this problem, she has severe mood swings and emotional trauma. Hmmmmm..... I've had a pretty tough week, but I have been extremely depressed. Interesting. After practice a few more people asked me when I'm going to take over teaching the class. Me? You've got to be kidding. Here's the thing: As I've mentioned on many occasions, not much Ashtanga in SLO. In fact, we only have one class per week. And our beloved instructor Jenn is moving down south to pursue schooling in Physical Therapy. She leaves in July, and there's no one on the horizon to take over the class. Which is unfortunate on many levels, especially since the class is growing! We have new regulars, and they're itching to learn. I guess a bunch of my ashtangi friends went to lunch or something one weekend when I was out of town and decided that I should be the one to take over the class. Huh. I beg to differ. When I snort or shrug it off, they protest, "but your practice! You're so strong! You're dedicated!"    Strength does not equal wisdom, people. And I'm dedicated because I'm obsessed. And maybe a little crazy. I've only been practicing ashtanga for a year. A YEAR. And the only time I've ever practiced with a "certified" instructor was two weeks ago with THE REAL DEAL, Guruji &amp; Co. Me, and 150 others. I'd hardly deem myself qualified. In any case, I'm extremely flattered, a little abashed, and completely flabbergasted that they would consider me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this was a great weekend. I can't believe it's already over! I was fortunate to spend a good amount of time with T, something that rarely happens when he's in the midst of production. He is, however, leaving tomorrow. Returning Wednesday or Thursday. So our time together was brief, but great. Friday night I thoroughly enjoyed our Thai food and movie at &lt;a href="http://www.thepalmtheatre.com/"&gt;The Palm&lt;/a&gt;. We saw Dust to Glory, a doc about the Baja 1000. I went for T, really. I love Baja, but don't have much interest in big trucks, dune buggies, and dirt bikes. Either way, the film was well done, I recognized a few names and vehicles through the hubby's previous films, and I only fell asleep once. Saturday I became a movie star! Okay, so I'm not actually going to be in the hubby's film, but I will be in the trailer! I had to paint my nails bright red, put on make-up, rip up a wife-beater, and wear slutty red and black bras to be a moto-slut type person. Hilarious, and fairly out of character for me. I had to make a nasty sandwich with T filming over my shoulder. The film he's working on currently is called &lt;a href="http://shop.store.yahoo.com/transworldshop/stspsats.html"&gt;"Stone Spray Sandwich."&lt;/a&gt; For those of you who don't know (read: for all of you including myself) a stone spray sandwich is what you get when someone on their dirt bike pulls out in front of you and "roosts" you (another new term) with dirt and rocks. Whatever. Anyways, it was fun to be directed by my husband. After, I met up with Scang and her husband for &lt;a href="http://www.slowine.com/annualevents.fsp"&gt;the wine festival&lt;/a&gt;. We made it to three wineries. As usual, I was most impressed with &lt;a href="http://www.domainealfred.com/"&gt;Domaine Alfred&lt;/a&gt;. Their barrel samples of the 2004 vintage were most enjoyable. That is, I like them second best, behind my own winery. Really I do, I'm not just saying that. It's always so fun to attend those events, since I've usually been the one working them in the past. Home early, then off to Creston (aka B.F.E.) for a friend's birthday bar-b-q.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's mother's day! Happy Mother's Day, Mom!! Wish I could spend it with you. Instead, I cooked dinner for my in-laws and my granny-in-law. They're great people, and I always enjoy spending time with them. My folks come into town on Thursday for my birthday (did I mention my birthday is on Wednesday? It really is the greatest day of the year. Everyone should celebrate. Go out for a beer. Go dancing. Eat chocolate. Go crazy.) so we'll celebrate Mother's Day next weekend. I was disappointed (but not surprised) to hear that my brother let my mom down this year. I think good thoughts for him at the end of every practice. He really is a top-knotch guy. Just harbors a little animosity towards his family for some unknown reason. No one can hurt my mom the way he can with just the tone in his voice. I hope he learns that and is eventually mindful of it. Either that, or my mom's gotta grow bulletproof skin. Sticks and stones, man. Whoever made that rhyme up is dead wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fading fast. Climbing into bed at 9:15 so I can wake up for 5 a.m. practice tomorrow! I honestly can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Just jumping on the bandwagon with &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/vanessa/"&gt;Vanessa&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.katstan.net/"&gt;KJS&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;On my iTunes (my iPod's out of batteries):&lt;br /&gt;Elliott Smith, 'Angeles'&lt;br /&gt;Cat Power, 'He War'&lt;br /&gt;Pinback, 'Fortress'&lt;br /&gt;Portishead, 'Glory Box'&lt;br /&gt;The Faint, 'Birth'&lt;br /&gt;Bright Eyes, 'First Day of My Life' (good song!)&lt;br /&gt;Beck, 'Missing'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long list of songs. Well, it was a long post. Can't seem to leave anything less than a novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111561245505068261?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111561245505068261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111561245505068261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111561245505068261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111561245505068261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/great-weekend.html' title='Great Weekend'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111542863669426778</id><published>2005-05-06T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T18:17:16.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sushi To The Rescue</title><content type='html'>I can always count on sushi to brighten my mood. Sushi for lunch today off-site with The Hula Guy and Pineapple Bitch. It's been a tough week. An injury, PMS, playing catch-up at work, pouring rain (again), and financial woes to boot. Yesterday The Year of Nausea struck again in the morning until about noon. I tried to enjoy our Thursday catered lunch to the fullest, but my appetite just was not up to snuff. Disappointing, since Sara made Chicken Cacciatore. I started to feel better after her comfort food. There's a wine event here in San Luis Obispo this weekend: Roll Out The Barrels. So last night, T and I headed down to the Mission Plaza for some tasting and food from our local wineries and restaurants. I don't know how I managed to avoid pouring at the event, but I lucked out somehow. Actually, working the event is sometimes more enjoyable than attending. But last night I was pleased as punch to shmooze, eat, and drink. We cruised around with The Pelt, The Samurai, and The Fiesty One (whose name may change.... Apparently she wasn't thrilled with my choice of nicknames. When offered any name in the world, she wanted to take some time to think about it. Who wouldn't?). Then went to &lt;a href="http://www.bigskycafe.com/index2.html"&gt;Big Sky Cafe&lt;/a&gt; for dinner (although Tay and I only had dessert). Big Sky is my favorite SLO-town restaurant. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, you always get a great meal at a great price. Their wine selection isn't incredible, but it is well-priced with some local favorites. Their produce is purchased from local farmers, mostly organic. And there's a large variety of menu items for vegetarians and vegans. T will ask me where I want to eat, I say, "you know." I could eat three meals a day at Big Sky. I really could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At dinner, my old college roommate Scang and her husband met us for a drink. They're in town for the weekend for their anniversary. So I gave them one of my passports for this weekend's event. Hopefully I can meet up with them for a little bit tomorrow out at some winery or another. For now, off to eat Thai food and a flick with T and some friends. I've noticed I eat so much more when I'm not practicing. I guess because I'm not worried about getting into those Marichyasanas C and D on a full stomach?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111542863669426778?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111542863669426778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111542863669426778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111542863669426778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111542863669426778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/sushi-to-rescue.html' title='Sushi To The Rescue'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111525834481999074</id><published>2005-05-04T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T18:59:04.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wind She is Ablowin'</title><content type='html'>Not much to report today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took two days off of asana Monday and Tuesday. Today, a few surya namaskaras with extra long chatwaris, navasana 6 times, urdva dhanurasana 3 times, inversions, savasana. I was going to get back into the swing of things tomorrow, then along came ladies' holiday. So for now I rest, and pamper myself with extra chocolate. I've found this helps to keep the bitchiness at bay. All my adolescent and adult life I've been kidding myself. "I don't get mood swings." Huh! I'm finally starting to see them. They're there, all right. The day before ladies' holiday is the saddest day of my life &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;every month&lt;/span&gt;. Can you imagine? So I eat chocolate, drink a glass (or two) of wine, take an extra long shower, and make my husband give me extra hugs. Ladies, this is my prescription. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day in the vineyard today, but my camera battery was dead so no boring photos. Just the girls today, just four of us. Pineapple Bitch (she's from Maui. I don't really think she's a bitch, she just misheard me when I was talking about slow-pitch softball. Pineapple pitch. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pitch.&lt;/span&gt; Not Bitch. But then the name stuck.), The Good, The Chewer (she chews on coffee stirrers all day. She's an ex-smoker.), and myself. Today's task: shoot tucking. Hands down the easiest and least stressful of our vineyard days. Not that these times are extremely physically or mentally taxing, it's just that you can't help but think to yourself, "gee. I could really fuck this whole row up. Then how would BT make wine? Then how would I sell the wine? Then how would I have a job?" as you're snipping off shoots left and right. Also, a lot of kneeling has been employed in previous tasks, and my poor knees aren't happy with me come evening. Today no kneeling, we just untangle the shoots (the ones we didn't hack off last time), make them look pretty, and separate them a bit with shoot wires. This is to promote air circulation, I suppose. Pineapple Bitch made lunch, roast chicken and potato salad. Way too much food. Way too much alcohol with a 6 pack of beer and 3 bottles of wine. We didn't make a dent in either. The day wasn't nearly the stunner we had last time we were in the vineyard. There's a storm moving in, so the wind is blowing and the sky is grey and gloomy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like my mood. I already had my chocolate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time for my wine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111525834481999074?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111525834481999074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111525834481999074' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111525834481999074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111525834481999074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/wind-she-is-ablowin.html' title='The Wind She is Ablowin&apos;'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111508472643387023</id><published>2005-05-02T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T18:57:37.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing Catch-Up</title><content type='html'>So a bit of history here.... It has been since Thursday that I've sat down and really blogged. So let's start with Thursday evening. The Waitress returned to Potrero Hill around 5 after what sounded like the worst day at work EVER. So, on to much-needed cocktails up the street. She needed one to calm the stress. I needed one to drown my self-pity stemming from my injury. The best thing about The Waitress: Her stories. She has me rolling on the ground laughing. No one can tell a story the way she can. Love to be around those folks who can make the retelling of a trip to the postal office an uproarious occasion. After cocktails, we hopped on the bus and headed off to this funky little creperie on Mission. Excellent food for me, and flirty french boy for The Waitress. After a few glasses of wine, back home for half of a movie and a little more ice on my leg, and then castor oil wraps and SLEEP. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last day of Guruji's tour, and I get to the regency later than any other day. Which was fine, since I had resigned myself to the fact that I would not be able to practice. I asked the folks at the door what I should do, since I know they don't allow observers. They suggested I try at least Surya Namaskaras, then if I needed to sit out, I should move my mat to the side. I practiced standing through &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/01a-Utthita-Hasta-Padangusthasana-vinyasa-in.html"&gt;Utthita Hasta Padangustasana&lt;/a&gt;, then reluctantly withdrew myself from the group and took a seat. I can not emphasize enough how much this totally and completely killed me on every level. Saraswati came over and asked me "Why no practice?" and I said, "Injury" and frowned, tears in my eyes. She nodded, understanding and maybe even empathising. I felt embarrassed, and I even doubted my decision many times throughout the practice. But I kept reminding myself, this is a practice. A daily practice. A lifetime practice. One opportunity should not jeopardize my practice for months afterward. I joined the group for savasana and the closing prayer, which brought more tears to my eyes. It was so beautiful.... Om Shanti Shanti Shanti. Then applause for our Maestros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, I stood in line and said goodbye to these amazing people. Even though they are "strangers," they have changed my life. I talked to &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/ElephantsBelly/"&gt;Cameron&lt;/a&gt; for a bit, a fellow blogger, which was fun. I'm not normally a shy person, but it is a bit disconcerting  meeting people for the first time who have been reading about your life as you have been reading about theirs. You don't have to go through those preliminary introductions. This "stranger" knows where I live, knows where I practice, knows my physical shortcomings (e.g. tight hips, weak knees, difficulty with Supta Kurmasana), and probably can even tell me about my own weaknesses as a person. I felt a little naked and very shy when I first introduced myself to him and &lt;a href="http://practiceashtanga.blogspot.com/"&gt;Neti&lt;/a&gt;, I guess. But I loosened up as I conversed with Cameron that morning. We discussed all the contradictions in people. The Dental Assistant is dating a man who is trained and teaches others to kill people through martial arts. My husband just finished a workout video featuring Ultimate Fighting. Our lives are full with these challenges. The difficulty of living a yogic lifestyle. Whether it should be forced overnight, or whether it should slowly creep into our lives as our practice deepens and grows. The latter, this is what is happening in my own life. I haven't killed a spider in a month. And I've had plenty of opportunity. That's what I call &lt;a href="http://www.dlshq.org/teachings/ahimsa.htm#meaning"&gt;ahimsa&lt;/a&gt;. Yes, I realize this may seem small to most of you out there. But I am an extreme arachniphobe. And I have even saved a few of these spiders from my dog eating them by &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;picking them up, and releasing them into the wilds of our potted plants. &lt;/span&gt; Okay, not picking them up with my fingers. That's going a bit far, folks. And I may have gagged a bit in each instance. One step at a time here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my sad sad practice, I went back to Potrero Hill (which every morning has consisted of driving all over San Francisco, wasting gas, but loving every moment of being lost. This morning was no different, just a little less enjoyable due to my mood), showered, packed up my stuff, walked up to the next block for one more espresso at &lt;a href="http://www.potrerohillshop.com/Pages/farleys.html"&gt;Farley's&lt;/a&gt;, then hit the road. Stopped in hometown Santa Cruz for lunch with Mom and Dad, then on to San Luis Obispo. Home. Unpacked, relaxed, iced my leg, and waited for my husband and my dog to join me. It was so good to see them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, rest day. Great day just lounging a bit with hubby, walking around downtown, finally purchased components for a kick-ass surround sound for the house (seriously folks, I've been listening to music through stock computer speakers hooked up to my iPod), went to lunch, enjoyed a beautiful day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, off to led primary. Our one little ashtanga class per week offered here in San Luis Obispo. Jenn was gone, so Pat taught. Little pearls of wisdom throughout the class. Okay, I don't know how I did it, but I further injured the same leg in a new, but I suspect, related, spot. So now I'm visually limping, gimping, moaning, groaning. Popping Ibuprofen like its the feel good drug of the century, and pouring the Castor Oil like no other. I think perhaps I was compensating for my sore peronius muscles and injured my knee in that manner. In any case, its not the same ol' knee injury. It's on the lateral side, I think it's my &lt;a href="http://www.kneepaininfo.com/kneecollateral.html"&gt;LCL&lt;/a&gt;. Just a sprain, I suspect as there is no grinding, popping, earth-shattering pain. Just discomfort. So, as much as it kills me to say this, I am considering taking a week off. If I do feel up to practicing, I will modify like crazy, and may skip some of standing. As I write this, I am slowly slumping further and further down into the couch. There's a pit in my stomach, and I'm dreading the rest of this asana-free week. But, if it means a pain-free body, I'm willing to make the sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work today was overwhelming. 130 emails, piles of papers and its the beginning of the month, meaning warehouse inventory reconciliations, broker commission reports, winery inventory, and generally lots of headaches and perhaps some overtime. But I enjoy my job and love the people I work with, so I was in high spirits all day. A mellow night ahead of us. It's good to be home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflecting on my 5 days with Guruji &amp; Co. I'm so glad I went. I have made a much deeper connection with my practice. As I've mentioned before, we have a very small pool of Ashtangis here in San Luis Obispo. Most people I practice with only practice Ashtanga once a week and attend other yoga classes the rest of the time because that's all that is available to them. For some reason, I was different. The practice grabbed me on some level. I've committed to my home practice. I practice Ashtanga 6 days a week. To spend time practicing with those who share this commitment was so important. To practice with those who have made the practice what it is today, to practice with my Guru, that was absolutely priceless. I will cherish the memories of my Day One practice with the adjustments from Guruji, the memories of the kindness in Saraswati's eyes, the humor in Sharath's ("Don't Come Down" in endless &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/finishing-positions/11-Utpluthee.html"&gt;Uth Pluthi&lt;/a&gt;), and the memories of their touch: firm yet caring. I will cherish the memories of the end of each practice when I had the honor of kneeling before him and thanking him for all that he's given to me and so many others. And, in spite of my injury, I will never look back at this with any feeling but joy and peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the novel. Lots on my mind tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111508472643387023?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111508472643387023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111508472643387023' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111508472643387023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111508472643387023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/playing-catch-up.html' title='Playing Catch-Up'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111499229670711977</id><published>2005-05-01T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T17:04:56.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parade of Injuries</title><content type='html'>Step Right Up, Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, and see.... the incredible.... the amazing.... the self-deprecating and self-piteous Injury-Ridden Yogi! She bends. She twists. She moans and groans. She injures a shoulder. She injures one knee. Then she heals! She injures one hamstring. Then her peroneus muscle. Then her knee again. Unbelievable! And through all the pain, she continues to preach to others the incredible healing properties of ASANA! Welcome, one and all, to the parade of injuries. &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111499229670711977?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111499229670711977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111499229670711977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111499229670711977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111499229670711977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/05/parade-of-injuries.html' title='Parade of Injuries'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111472762083454770</id><published>2005-04-28T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-29T09:03:39.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Four and Still Nagging</title><content type='html'>So today was day four in SF for me. My leg was feeling a little bit better this morning at the starting gates, so perhaps I got a little overzealous. By Janu Sirsasana C, it was screaming in pain. The hamstring feels great in all poses except prasarita padottanasana, konasana, and kurmasana. It's the "peronial" muscles that are killing me. I am putting them in quotes because I'm not sure I've got the spelling, or even the name, quite right. So, if any of you anatomy geeks know, could you tell me if I'm hitting the nail on the head here? I guess I could google it. But I'm on my friend's computer, and its not nearly as speedy as my G4 powerbook. So I avoid "surfing" at all costs. Anyways, my whole practice suffered tremendously due to these tiny muscles along the lateral side of my left calf. I considered stopping after JS C, but thought I could just slow things down a bit and modify where I needed to. Still hurt, though. Taking my leg out of lotus gives me searing pain. By Uth Pluthi I was almost in tears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it is great to be here. And seeing as India is a far off dream for me, this really could be my once in a lifetime opportunity to practice with Gurugi. His sense of humor in the practice kills me. "Eh! Chatwari! Bad Lady." And the count in Uth Pluthi: "1...............2........3................4.........&lt;br /&gt;2............3.......4....5......&lt;br /&gt;5........6.....7......8.....9......9......9.......One more......&lt;br /&gt;9.....One more.....9.....10!" After practice, I watched the intermediate practice with my Cal Poly friend I found yesterday. Oh wow. I really have never seen all of this practiced. Some of these practitioners were so strong, but what amazed me was the grace they brought to their practice. Tim Miller was there, in the front row. There were some funny moments between him and SKPJ. Apparently my Poly friend didn't know who he was. Guruji was helping him in Karandavasana and a few other poses, and my friend asked, "why haven't they sent him to the back?" Pretty funny. "Because it's Tim Miller." I didn't really know what else to say than that. I could have launched into his history with SKPJ, how much he's done for Ashtanga in the west, but I didn't feel all that entitled and educated myself, so I refrained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dental Assistant never made it to practice today. She was late (lateness is a chronic condition for so many people), so she just turned around and drove back to San Rafael. I'm glad it was just that, because I was pretty worried in her absence. Today was the day I was going to go gallavanting around the city in my trainers. Instead I'm bound to Potrero Hill with an ice pack strapped to one leg. I don't want to irritate the injury anymore by hiking all over town. I want to be able to practice tomorrow. But if tomorrow's like today, I'll probably have to roll up my mat and sit on the sidelines and try not to cry. So so frustrating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, so my evening with the Bitter Non-Bridesmaid went well last night. It's not that she's bitter really. Just overly sensitive, and then tries to hide the sensitivity. I really don't know where we left things, but I had a good time visiting with her and with her running team. Lots of talk of yoga. They were all fairly fascinated that I was up here for a whole week for just one yoga class per day. I showed them a picture of Guruji, then we launched into the subject of yoga as a lifestyle. "He's 90? He looks 75. I've heard yoga keeps you young." Yes, and running consecutive marathons kills your knees. I didn't actually say that. I used to be a runner myself. I was in two fairly serious car accidents within about a year, and that nearly ended my days of running. Too much chronic neck, back, and hip pain. Ironic thing is.... I took up yoga so I could get back to running. Then I quit running for yoga. All things in life happen for a reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about having a guru. Their running coach is their guru. They likened Ashtanga yoga to a cult. "So you do this everyday even when you get hurt? and even though you get injuries?" Yeah, so do you runners. Then the coach mentioned they have received a sponsorship from Saucony so they could all wear matching shoes. Hmmmm.... fairly reminiscent of Heaven's Gate and their Nikes. So I reminded them all that if a sponsorship from Kool-Aid was mentioned, they'd better jump ship, fast. They run in Golden Gate park, so I guess instead of Heaven's Gate, they'd be Golden Gate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also talked about scrabble last night. Which is my favorite game of all time. No. Really. I'm not kidding. Ideal night for me: a game of scrabble with two or three fun and worthy opponents, along with several bottles of wine. We used to have a weekly scrabble night with The Twin and The Pelt (my ex-roommate math teacher. He is very proud of his pelt). The Pelt is in it for the big words. If you go for a high-scoring word like AXE with a double letter score under the X, he'll never let it go. Absolutely criminal in his eyes. Who knew a high school math teacher could be so well versed in vocabulary??? Such a renaissance man, that Pelt.I've got to bring those good times back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to do some hot-cold contrast in the tub. And maybe clean The Waitress' apartment before she gets home from work. Day 5 tomorrow (hopefully). Then lunch with the folks, and then home and husband!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111472762083454770?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111472762083454770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111472762083454770' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111472762083454770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111472762083454770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/04/day-four-and-still-nagging.html' title='Day Four and Still Nagging'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111465390112934685</id><published>2005-04-27T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T19:05:01.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Home....</title><content type='html'>Okay, don't get me wrong. I appreciate SF on so so many levels. First off, there's the endless supply of things to do, see, etc. Secondly, I hope all you SF folks seriously appreciate the number of great places you have at your fingertips to eat. I could choose of any two great Thai restaurants in San Luis Obispo. And as for fine dining, we're getting better, but nowhere near what you have to offer in this city on the hill. Amazing. I only wish I had the cash flow to enjoy. Alas, I am stirfrying tofu and vegetables from Trader Joes to save some bucks for rent come MayDay. But I'm getting homesick. It's probably due to the fact that I haven't heard my husband's voice since last Tuesday, or maybe that I haven't had a weekend at home in a while... Or maybe because I'm spending so much time alone in a big city. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm staying with my friend, who works every night and goes to school during the day. I knew that from the get-go, and really, I'm not complaining. If I have a good book, my iPod and a cup of coffee (or a glass of wine, currently) I'm happy as a clam. But I do feel a bit confined to Potrero Hill. I'm afraid of getting lost, I guess. Tomorrow, I conquer those fears and venture out via MUNI. Today, I huddle in the apartment and the coffee shop up the street and immerse myself in my current fiction reading. Fascinating, really. It's called Middlesex, by Jeffery Eugenides (wrote the Virgin Suicides). It's a Pulitzer Prize winner about an incestuous greek family, narrated by the hermaphrodite this incest created. Gets better and better by the page. Very original (as was The Virgin Suicides) and highly recommended by Yours Truly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm steering myself off track. Back to my vacation. Last night I headed down to San Jose to visit with my ex-roommate from college. She's a marketing blah blah something over at TiVo, consequently.... I just got TiVo! Anyways, we headed down to Santana Row for some drinks and dinner. Started off with a little "I Wish" shopping at my favorite spot, Anthropologie. I somehow resisted most everything (restraint or poverty?) and left with an awesome wrap that was 85% off. That's $10, baby. Next, over to Vintage for some wine tasting. And I was horrified at their prices. Okay, not at their prices, but at the crap they were trying to hawk at those prices. The menu says: Burgundy, Cote d'Or, 2002. $8.00. And that's $8.00 for a 2-oz pour. So I ask the gentleman, what Cru? Thinking to myself, it's got to be at least premier cru. No, not even close. Village cru. That bottle's probably $12 retail, worth about $18 in a cellar two years from now, and they're theiving unsuspecting Burgundy newbies of their hard-earned cash for a &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;village cru?&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Depressing. I think my favorite part about having any wine knowledge is the lack of expectation I'm faced with from others in the industry. I'm 25, look 22, maybe 23. Granted, I have so much to learn. I'm learning every day. But I feel like I'm constantly having to prove myself to those in the industry. Because even when I see young people showing up at the winery, I judge. Oh, they're out for a cheap buzz. So until I divulge my place of employment, I automatically get the cold shoulder from retailers, tasting room attendants, even waiters. If I give them my card, their attitude towards me changes in an instant. It really is quite a sight to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, babbling again. So back to last night. We left the wine bar and finally decided on a place called (Scratch, I think? Something like that). So good, and so fun! Everything's family style, indian, thai, indonesian cuisine on the menu. I ate too much, so the drive back to the city was an exercise in consciousness. Seriously, I was slapping myself in the face to keep myself awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up this morning ready to be free from all my nagging injuries from yesterday. Better, but definitely still nagging. Before we got started, I ran out to grab something from my purse, and ran into an old Cal Poly acquaintance! I haven't seen her in years. I thought I had recognized her yesterday, but thought maybe it was a hallucination from all that pain I was in. And there she was! As coincidence would have it, she practiced right behind me. Such a small world. Not just that I'm here in SF, and there she is, but that we both found Ashtanga after we had known each other. It was fun to catch up on things a bit, I hope she's there tomorrow as well. Practice was fast today. When we finished the fundamental poses and started on the seated, I was wondering if we had missed something because it was just flying by. Of course we hadn't, it must have just been a faster count. Or maybe I'm getting used to the space and all the people (I usually practice on my own) and Guruji's count. I only received one adjustment today, in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/finishing-positions/05-Pindasana.html"&gt;Pindasana&lt;/a&gt;. Because of my hamstring and my strained "peronial muscles" (that's what Yellow thinks my injury is. She went to Physical Therapy school. But isn't a physical therapist. Shes on to much more noble things.), I can't get a very deep padmasana. So I couldn't grab my hands in this pose. Saraswati came over and helped. I don't know her, never had any kind of conversation beyond "Thank you, Namaste, enjoy your day," but she just carries about an air of graciousness, humbleness, and elegance. Just an observation. Beyond this, another challenging day of accepting my limitations due to injury. But enjoyable, all the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon I attended a staff tasting at my temporary SF roommate's restaurant, Jack Falstaff's. Okay, she doesn't own the restaurant, but she waits tables. Today's topic was, delightedly, Burgundy wine from the Cote d'Or. Hooray! We learned, we tasted, and everybody speculated as to who the hell I was. "Who's the new girl?" I love being shrouded in mystery. I just love the word shrouded. Tonight, I visit with one of Yellow's good friends. There's currently some slight drama regarding Yellow's bachelorette party. Here's a little history regarding Yellow. Not only is she my friend of all friends, she's more like my pseudo-sister. She hated me without knowing me my freshmen year of highschool, so I hated her back. By sophomore year, we were inseparable. By junior year, due to some unfortunate family circumstances, she moved in with my family. We graduated to B-cup together within the same month (a feat I had been dreaming about since I was fourteen). She kept growing in this regard. I think I regressed in years past to a Barely B. She was my maid of honor and my only "bridesmaid". She is one of the most hard-working, considerate, genuine, hilarious persons I have ever met. And she's getting married to one hell of a guy in September. For her wedding party: Family only. Including Pseudo-Sisters! She and her husband-to-be even asked my mother to become ordained for the day to marry them! So great. In any case, one of her friends in particular was a little disappointed she  wasn't in the wedding, so they wanted to plan the bachelorette party. I learned of this a few weeks ago, after I had already offered to plan. Yellow called to ask if I minded handing it over. Not in the least. As long as I can be there in any way possible for Yellow. I don't care who plans the party, I just want it to be exactly what she wants. Honestly. So I wrote an email to this girl, basically saying I think she should plan it, since it seems to mean so much to her and it would mean so much to Yellow for her to be a part of everything since she was forced to choose for bridesmaids.... blah blah blah.... Lots of little, baby wedding drama.... more stress than Yellow needed.... Now I'm trying to graciously hand over the planning without hurting anyone's feelings or embarrassing anyone. I really want to shake this girl by the shoulders and say, "what's the big deal? Just cause you're not in someone's wedding does not mean you don't mean the world to them." and beyond that, why go to the bride and bitch? She's already under enough stress and strain, by god. And Yellow being who Yellow is, I know she's losing sleep at night thinking about her friends' feelings, and wishing she hadn't hurt them. Ugh. Weddings. So I'm off to soothe over some hurt feelings and smile and kiss-up and hope that in the end, they agree to the task they wanted so badly (and now deny they wanted in order to save face), they were willing to hurt their best friend Yellow's feelings: to plan her bachelorette party. Wish me luck, this may take some serious restraint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111465390112934685?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111465390112934685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111465390112934685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111465390112934685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111465390112934685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/04/missing-home.html' title='Missing Home....'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11498193.post-111454391455598111</id><published>2005-04-26T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-26T13:07:03.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SF with Guruji &amp; Co.</title><content type='html'>Its just day two, and I feel like I got hit with a mack truck. But allow me to backtrack a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night sushi with The Samurai was a blast. Lots of great food, awesome people, and good sake. Two people were there who I haven't seen for years, and it was so great to catch up on things with them. Joe was there, a really good friend who I completely lost touch with. Hopefully we won't lose touch again, as I really did value his friendship and we always have such a great time talking and hanging out. After dinner, we all went out (gulp) downtown. I must have thought I was a rockstar or something. All that sake, then switching it up to grey goose on the rocks, I think 3, maybe 4 of those. Got home and in bed by 2:30. Woke up bright eyed and bushwacked at 6. Could not fall back asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't planning on going to led primary on Sunday, since it was a moonday and I was worried about injuring myself before SF. But I went anyways because I really wanted to see my friend Jenn. Sho 'nuff: an injury ensued. After &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/fundamental-asanas/5d-Prasarita-Padottanasana-D.html"&gt;prasarita padottanasana&lt;/a&gt;, Jenn switches it up and has us come down into center splits, then &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/advanced-a-series/25-Hanumanasana.html"&gt;hanumanasana&lt;/a&gt;. She was playing with my hips in hanumanasana, working them back, then squaring them up. I felt a POP, then a somewhat crippling pain in my hamstring. I'm pretty sure its just a strain or a mild pull, but its really effecting my practice here in SF. &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/21a-Kurmasana.html"&gt;Kurmasana&lt;/a&gt; is just kind of a joke now, as is &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/25a-Upavistha-Konasana-A.html"&gt;Upavishta Konasana A&lt;/a&gt;. But I breathe through it. After practice, I packed up all my stuff and headed up to the city!&lt;br /&gt;I'm staying with a friend who I used to work with, and it's so great to see her. Her place is tiny, so I'm trying to do whatever I can to make up for the space I'm taking. Two mornings in a row I've woken up before the alarm went off, so I haven't woken her up yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night I could not sleep to save my life. It was one of those: Good god, it's 10:00. I really need to fall asleep. Fall asleep. Please, just fall asleep! Nothing doing all night. I think I was also a little nervous and excited, but mostly I just psyched myself out of sleep by putting so much pressure and importance on it. So my earlier statement of me waking up before the alarm was not quite true. I was awake all night. By the time 4:30 rolled around, I was just like: Fuck it, I'm getting up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the Regency by 5:10, I think. I was one of about 3 other people there, so my mat was placed right in the front row. GULP. I was sitting next to a nice lady from Portland, and a whole crew of Brazilian beauties. I saw &lt;a href="http://blogs.ashtangi.net/ElephantsBelly/"&gt;Cameron&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://practiceashtanga.blogspot.com"&gt;Neti&lt;/a&gt;, and it was funny how I recognized them instantly from seeing maybe just one picture from their blogs. The family came in, and I felt an instant and overwhelming sense of gratitude for them. Gratitude for them being there, and gratitude for what they teach and the sense of community they have instilled among Ashtangis. I'm pretty new to this practice. But I've never felt a dedication or connection to anything else like I have to my practice. Besides my marriage, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practice began, and guruji's count was fast. I warmed up pretty quick and rolled out my mysore rug by the third Surya Namaskara B. Guruji was moving around a lot throughout the first few rows, adjusting folks here and there. My first adjustment came in Marichyasana D. First side, Guruji was pulling and pushing and grunting and straining. I was doing all of these as well, but also trying not to laugh. For those of you who were there, if that count seemed long, well it was because of me. Sorry. My fingers were touching, but I couldn't bind. Vinyasa, then other side. I was in it in a flash, and Guruji said, "You did. Good." Very cool, since I haven't been able to bind in that pose for months. Other moments of note: &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/29b-Urdhva-Muka-Paschimottanasana.html"&gt;Urdvha Mukka Paschimottanasana.&lt;/a&gt; We held this FOREVER. It was painful really, and that's usually not an asana I have any trouble with. Guruji adjusted me towards the end when I was starting to sink, and he folded me back up, walked away, and I immediately slumped back down. Just couldn't hold it with much juice anymore. Uth Pluthi. I had read about the long Uth Pluthis. It was long. Don't get me wrong. But I thought it was going to be longer. After practice, I quickly introduced myself to Cameron, Neti, and Mrs. neti, then back to the apartment for some serious napping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's practice was a challenge for me. I got there later, couldn't find parking, so was somewhere in the middle of the pack. Sharath and Saraswati were there, adjusting and helping folks, but I didn't make as much of a connection as I had the day before. But that could be due to the intense pain I was feeling. Not only is my hamstring crying out in every deep forward bend, I have some kind of pinched nerve along the outside of my left leg, just below my knee. I almost yelped the first time I pulled that leg into half lotus. And I almost got up and quit halfway through because I was so afraid of further injury. It is, after all, only Tuesday. But I just gingerly suffered through, taking extra care with each movement. I tried to modify in &lt;a href="http://de.ashtangayoga.info/asana-vinyasa/primary-series/16a-Marichyasana-B.html"&gt;Marichyasana B&lt;/a&gt; by putting my left leg (with care) on the floor instead of half lotus, but Sharath was not having it. "Put your leg up." "I can't, injured knee." "you try." Really? "Yes, you try." Okay, so I did it and bound, but not without an instant of stabbing pain. Just that pain in the beginning, then it's fine. Very strange. Other than that, another long Urdvha Mukka Paschimottanasana, and a longer still Uth Pluthi. I can definitely feel myself getting stronger, even if I can't hold myself up for the entire Uth Pluthi count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my husband and my dog. But I know they're both having a great week. Hubby's in Baja smacking the lip and pulling 360's (whatever those are). Kula's at Grandma's playing all day with her best buddy. Me, I'm off to finally get some coffee in the city and read a book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11498193-111454391455598111?l=driste.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/feeds/111454391455598111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11498193&amp;postID=111454391455598111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111454391455598111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11498193/posts/default/111454391455598111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://driste.blogspot.com/2005/04/sf-with-guruji-co.html' title='SF with Guruji &amp; Co.'/><author><name>jennasuz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12802502060419062280</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://static.flickr.com/31/41035264_6992ee2e61_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
