Should We Have a Conversation About Yogasms?

...because I feel like it would go something like, "what?! girl, gross. really?!? ugh, ew. what?" And then I would have to feel bad that my Catholic upbringing makes me prudish about doing sex things in public places and won't let me be happy for people who spell yOga with a Capital "O" [PS yes this will be full of euphemisms, in case the Baby Jesus is reading].

A Daily Beast article is currently going viral wherein ladies are orgasming all over the place at yoga classes. There's even a word for it--yogasm--so it has to be thing, right? It's "on the rise!" Like cancer! Be afraid: orgasms! Who can tell when one will strike next! Well, I kind of think I can. I definitely believe that these women are telling the truth, but then again there's this:

“I was in lotus pose, focusing on breathing and lifting the muscles of my pelvic floor,” she said. She wasn’t prepared for what happened after her instructor pressed his body against her back and synchronized his breath with hers, lifting her ribs as she inhaled, and pushing down on her thighs as she exhaled. “I was tingling all over!” she gushed...The teacher is a famous name in New York City’s yoga circuit. Toned and tattooed, Rojas gives classes that are often packed with women hoping to get some hands-on instruction."

My Strange Love OR: How I Learned to Stop Sniffling and Love the Neti Pot

I am the worst sick person in the world. I have stood in the middle of our work cafeteria and cried because the only thing I wanted was chicken soup and it was not chicken soup day. I have protested loudly that "no one can keep me from going home early I am SICK!" to coworkers whose only thought was that the crazy lady should crawl into her bed as quickly as possible and stop infecting everyone. I have driven myself--sick--miles out of my way in search of the only place to get takeout matzo ball soup (I'm Irish). I have insisted on watching The English Patient over and over again, because in my delirium I forget why I hate it and besides it won all those awards and now I really do have five hours to sit and watch it...

In the absence of a thermometer, the severity of my fever can be accurately measured by determining the likelihood of me watching The English Patient. From, "well I've always had a thing for Naveen Andrews" (mild) to "maybe I haven't really given it a proper chance" (hospital).

But there's one thing I do when I'm sick that is absolutely the best: I reach for my neti pot.

WHY does this one look like a wang.

At this point you're having one of two reactions: ugh you put water up your nose on purpose that is revolting! Or: yeah, neti pot, high five! It's definitely one of those things where you just completely do not understand why anyone would ever do such a thing, until you do. I was certain I'd be in the former camp forever--I still hold my nose in the pool because, ew water up your nose. It took me many years, many MANY sinus infections, AND a job that requires me to consistently sound like a person who Is Not Dying to finally become desperate enough to try anything to breathe again.

There's a reason why every time someone mentions a neti pot, people come out of the wood work going, "oh my god I love mine! Use it every day! Makes everything smell like Jesus and peace!" and you sit there going, "you people sound like you're in a cult:" because it gets you exactly like a cult.

DVR Thunderdome: Buffy Summers VS Summer

It's Fall Premiere time! Have you gone through Entertainment Weekly's grids as if they were puppy adoption pages, wondering which new shows looked cute enough to bring home? Have you sat with HuffPo's "shows to watch" slide show and a glass of wine and agreed and/or disagreed? No? But it's commitment time! Who will you love? Who will you finally break up with because you've finally realized that loving them isn't enough and they'll never again be what you fell in love with (sorry, Desperate Housewives, it's not me it's you)? There's only so much space in your heart and on your DVR. Choose now!

Today in the DVR Thunderdome we have Ringer, starring Sarah Michelle Gellar as Bridget, who pretends to be her twin sister Siobhan (also SMG), who just commited suicide, versus New Girl, starring Zooey Deschanel and attempting to answer the age old question: what if a girl moves in with three dudes, and also she's exactly like every character Zooey Deschanel has ever played? Ladies, and your shows, prepare to battle to the death over the Tuesday 9PM DVR Slot 2. Slot 1 is already permanently reserved for the Dancing With the Stars Results Show. Don't you judge me.

Battle on!

I Own A Record!

Yeah, I know, but I didn't before...but the label sent over lots of Queen records for Freddie's birthday and the music director made sure I got one. Yay! So now I can be one of those people who walk around and say things like, "well obviously if you want to experience the classic albums as they were meant to be you can only do that on vinyl," or "really, if you know how to listen to it, new vinyl does actually sound better than a digital recrding," or hahahahahahaaaaaaaa no. Those things are best said from behind ironic facial hair, and anyway I actually avoid those people (because you kids don't advocate for antennas over HDTV, so really? Who are we trying to fool here, eh?). And while I have nothing against the records themselves (I actually love the smell, is that weird?), well, I just plum don't know how to work 'em.

And I work at a radio station! Actually, I worked for a station that still has a Vinyl Cut feature. Yes with real records. Some of which happen to be stored in the studio where we have our writing meetings for my current station, so the one thing I do know how to do with a record is to make a Pope hat out of the white liner jacket. Because when everyone runs out of punchlines, it's time for props, obviously. If I had known about this as a teenager I would have been soooo into the vinyl resurgence. Pope hats! I have photographic evidence of this that I am banned from posting because one of the other prods is a sourpants. And my new record is too new to have the liner so there will be none forthcoming. But trust me, Pope hats--who else has done this? I mean, not necessarily at your jobs, but I don't know what you guys do all day, so maybe? If not, totally do this at your jobs.

Day 25: For Once. For Ever.

Be only here and only now. Let your mind be completely present in this moment and only this moment. This moment is both passing and infinite. You are here forever. You were never here.

That's what they start saying when you've been stuck in Warrior 2 for what's probably been 10 whole minutes--has it only been 10 seconds? it feels like 10 years--and that's the point you start to want to kill them. Your thighs are burning! Your knee is shaking! Your toes are staging a mutiny! Surely you can NOT stand here all day to indulge their masochism.

But you do, because secretly, you can. It's a secret even to your own mind. Why do our bodies default to can't? Is it really survival? What kind of survival instinct says, "I'll bet we can't run anymore. Oh well, here comes that saber-toothed tiger"? In yoga, you use your conscious mind to argue with itself. And focusing on only the infinitesimal present keeps you from giving in to, "okay, it's been too long, if it's going to go on for much longer we're taking a break." There is no time. And there is no The Time Before. You have never chickened out. You have never fallen down. You have always existed here, just like this.