What Wine Goes With Your Natural Disaster?

Did you encounter a dilemma, wondering what to pair with any of last week's Acts of God? The PA Liquor Control Board has you covered. It seems the PLCB was shocked to discover that after Mayor Nutter told us we might have to spend two weeks indoors staring at our family members in the dark (underwater), we all reached for the bottle. So much so that it made front page news. Liquor sales were up FIVE MILLION DOLLARS MORE than usual.

But back to our question: champagne for earthquakes, I guess because of the whole "yay we lived!" vibe? And red wine for hurricanes, because it doesn't need to be refrigerated and remember when M Nutt said two weeks? I'd go with a California Zinfandel because it's strong so it'll last. Sadly we'll never have any numbers for beer, since our archaic Quaker alcohol-selling system keeps it separate from the hard stuff. But I'm thinking IPA's for hurricanes--they were meant to travel to/from India and not lose their taste. Or maybe a stout, since if you can't cook it could also be a meal?

Drink up Philly!

Day 22: What the Hurricane Taught Me

Bitch.

So....Irene.  I live in one of the floodier parts of town, and although I'm up the hill from the river a ways, I'm at the bottom of a small ridge so all the water runs down from the hill and spills into my street, and manhole geysers are a pretty regular thing here. So who could tell whether my first-floor apartment was going to food or not? It was a toss-up. But I decided to wait and see what would happen, and besides if I did flood I wanted to be there to move my Harry Potter books off the bottom shelf of my bookcase. So I hunkered down by myself in my apartment with my supplies: "non-perishable food items" in the form of wine, frozen pizza, chips and salsa, wine, the biggest jar of reduced-fat Skippy I could find, and wine; also my lantern, batteries, duct tape, and a 1000-page book with dragons in it. Oddly, the duct tape was the thing that reassured me most of all. I could duct tape the cracks in the door frame and then the water wouldn't get in? Yes, I did this, laugh at me.

You know what sucks about being all alone during a hurricane?

Ev. Er. Y. THING.

Day 17: I Want to Be a Circus Freak

Day 17 of The 30-Day Yoga Challenge

Want.

"Here's one for all you circus freaks!" 

 ...was the joke that preceded a pretty pretzelly move that I didn't really get that far into BUT MAN there was this guy who nailed it. And then even the reverse, where you put your hand under the opposite way. Don't even try to figure out what I'm saying, even I don't know what-all was going on and I was there. But there were limbs doing things I've never seen limbs do in Real Life. I was supposed to be working on my own remedial version, but all I wanted to do was stare.

Actually, what I really wanted to do was say, "damn you really are a circus freak!" But can you believe some people wouldn't think that was a compliment?

Day 11: How To Pick Up Hot (as in attractive) Girls Who Do Yoga

Day 11 of The 30-Day Yoga Challenge

OHM here often?

1. Go to a yoga class.

Day 10: Chanting Is All The (Uncontrollable) Rage

could you shut it? i'm working out here

In the course of this little experiment, I've started to read some yoga life articles, just to see what other people are talking about and to give me some new things to think about (and write about!) besides, "down dog again...also very sweaty today." And apparently there's a horde of people out there on the Internet who are all, "argh enough with the all the damn chanting already aaarrrrggghhhh!!!!!"

Really, this is a thing?

I Don't Come Down To Where You Work And Knock The Johnson Out Of Your Mouth

But maybe I should. Seriously! One of you is even doing it wrong, all of you stop it.  Also, chocolate ice cream, Rick Santorum? Isn't your CIA bodyguard supposed to jump in front of you before this happens, or is this some kind of subversive signal to a whole 'nother kind of Base?

PS now that we've got photographic evidence that the only thing that's bipartisan is the eating of phallic foodstuffs, can we please stop talking about how it's sexist?

Day 9: Forgiveness Blows

If you can't forgive yourself, you can't forgive others. Which is probably why after a truly deep, cleansing, powerfully challenging practice (With tears! Yes, more tears--hip openers are Pandora's Box?-- awesome) I was the girl screaming out her car window that "you have a stop sign you jagwad!!"

And Saturday I was all Compassion, etc.  Dang.

What's the Sanskrit for "may all beings be happy and free and also obey traffic laws?"


Further misadventures at the 30 Day Yoga Challenge page.

Day 7: The One Where There Was Disco!

Hadji had me at "my San Fransisco yogi friends call this The Jane Fonda."  But then everything had jazz hands and I was so happy I could Just Die. "This flow is gonna be like a dance, okay? And also do it like you're an animal!" And did I mention he has the greatest taste in yoga music ever:

Day 5: A Tyranny of Handstands

Day 5 of The 30-Day Yoga Challenge

My arms don't straighten. The left WAY more so than the right. I know you're thinking to yourself, yeah, I'll bet they actually do and she just has them twisted around or something. But indeed they do not! I've never had an injury that I can recall, and I do remember getting all kinds of x-rays and the doctor finally concluding something like "golly that's odd." It just decided to grow crooked. Thank you to whichever ancestor gave me THAT latent gene. In the course of living life, this is not a problem.  Most people don't even know it, because you can't really tell unless I'm doing cheerleading moves (and BOY did my coaches have a grand time with me--fantastic jumps, arms for shit).

In yoga, it's pretty much everything.  It makes my down dog go a little itsy tiny bit to the right side. It means my right shoulder usually hits the ground first at the bottom of my pushup. It means that both halves of my body are so uneven that my ability to do the same pose on both sides can vary from Killed It to Almost Got Killed. And it has created for me an arch-nemesis: Handstand.

An Alternate Interpretation of The Most Sexist Ad of All Time

Because uuugh for the thousandth time I have to get mad about this exact same thing that hasn't really changed but just gotten more subtle over the past 60 years. But I mean listen to the music cues: sure she ended up at the airport, but on her way there she was clearly foiling a Soviet plot to take over America, and they can't show that because of national security etc, but obviously this woman is A BADASS SECRET SPY. And when she slides over so that her misogynist (cover!) husband can drive, she's all, "HA! You're WELCOME. Sucker."

Day 4: Can't Stop the Signal

Day 4 of The 30-Day Yoga Challenge

Today I did something I do maybe twice a year, tops.  I left work to go to the gym on my lunch break.  Actually, you could take out the "to the gym" part and be just as correct. It's true, I'm a shameful lunch-at-one's-desk-eater.  For some reason I always felt like telling us we have an hour where we can stop working and do whatever we want is a trap they set so they can see who's not busy enough to merit their position being eliminated. But not today! Today I encountered a rare moment where I had not a stitch to do, and also the person who writes up the orders was leaving at the same time so there would be nothing more until he came back anyway. Goodbye desk! Goodbye studio! Wave to the Western Culture of Workaholism on your way out! Oh no, did it see us leaving?

Day 3: I Strap On Some Cojones and Find Out If I'm "Intermediate"

Day 3 of the 30-Day Yoga Challenge

boom.

Even after Sunday's Adventures In Feeling Inadequate, I was surprised at how much I really wanted to go to yoga again. I was actually bummed about "having to" go to kickboxing instead. Is my spirit animal changing already? But, bummer: the only class I could make was a level 2:

Intense & renewing flow practice to enliven the body and balance the mind. Int/Adv. Heated.

And girl, you are not intermediate-slash-advanced! Remember the shame spiral! The falling! Your arms don't straighten! Your biceps are apparently fake! I told all this to my Favorite Boss Rodney, who is my favorite because he lets me talk crazy nonsense and then tells me exactly what I need to hear (he once threatened to turn off the internet in my studio after: "she weighs that? but HOW TALL IS SHE and does that mean I'm fat!?!?!" People, the Internet is a terrible place). And the best part is, he's always, always right: "well, you already cried once, what else worse could happen to you?" Every living creature needs its own Rodney.

Day 2: I Throw Some Money At The Situation

Day 2 of the 30-Day Yoga Challenge

Salvation?

Had to do the laundry today--it takes me about three hours to do since I hate the laundromat and leave it for the last possible day, so I couldn't make the 6p "Realign to Refine" class at my gym:

Focus on your breath while flowing through postures. Develop awareness of your mind, body & spirit. Be adjusted by an additional Jivala teacher during this class to help refine your flow. All levels Heated.

Constant adjustment! Which would have been buckets of fun, right? To have the very thing that was spazzing me on Sunday be happening all the damn time? I guess the point of the class is that the other instructor is nit-picky so maybe I wouldn't have felt bad about it.  Things to be found-out-about next week.

Day 1: In Which I Am Shamed By Hot Yoga

Girl you do not need those legwarmers

Day 1 of the 30-Day Yoga Challenge

After reading Anne Helen Peterson's love letter to hot yoga over at The Hairpin, I became obsessed with trying it out.  Maybe it's a Saturn-return thing, but starting on New Year's Day I've had the nagging desire to just blow everything up and make my life look different, so I was eager to try anything that would "change my life, body, and spirit animal." I've been doing yoga on and off for over ten years, so I know my way around a tadasana like nobody's business. Or I thought I did!

Whale Is Indifferent To Random Mariachis

As are we all, generally.

So, this video went viral today and the Official Internet Response is "wow, cool, the Beluga is dancing to/lurves the mariachi's!" But I'm preeeeety sure the whale is just like WTF.  Or am I just watching it wrong?

Or maybe the whale is a hipster, and was over mariachi bands before being over them was cool?  But secretly is digging it and can't say anything because the other hipster whales will be all "sellout!"..? I don't actually know how hipsterism expresses itself outside of homo-sapiens in No-Libs.

A Roundabout Way to Justify Eating Snack Foods For Dinner

1. Watch this video from Fitperez.com and learn how to make your own guacamole.

2. Buy all of the ingredients for like $3 (for some reason this has only ever worked with Haas Avocados, btw).

3. Make guacamole--which, being homemade, will have zero scary chemical preservatives, and no added fat/sugar, etc.  And so therefore counts as a vegetable instead of a dip! And is delicious on tortilla chips.  Bravo.

4. Use leftover lime half as garnish in gin & tonic.  Feel good about wasting absolutely nothing--so green! like a lime--and count each drink as a serving of fruit.

5.  Eat a well-balanced meal of fruits and vegetables.  Michelle Obama would be so proud!

Ever Think You'd Get Nostalgic For The Uncanny Valley?

Between this (which is NOT AT ALL a person FYI), and Olivia Wilde's nipples in The Change-Up being CGI-painted-on later, I would trade technological advancement for the return of Beyowulf and the terror that was The Polar Express. Somehow those cold, dead eyes, were our Good Old Days....Avatar, what have you wrought?

Why I Don't Lie About Being Single

Last week, after an appearance, I found myself asking the question I'm sure women whose jobs entail meeting lots of strangers ask themselves at some point:  should I just wear a fake engagement ring already?  99 percent of the guys who were at the place were nice and fun and etc, but it was a singles mixer so of course it brought out the Predators. The ones who just won't take no. The ones who can't comprehend that a woman who is there working is not there to meet singles. Which would have been the antithesis of my actual function at said mixer, which was to facilitate the hooking-up of other singles. That would have been like a waiter taking a bite of the cheesecake before taking it out to the table (I mean, there was a cover charge. I can't swoop in for free and take all the men.  Plus I ate the free buffet, so I had already stolen enough for one night).