Monthly Archives: September 2011

Yoga Conference, Weights, and Wine


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I went to a yoga conference (first time ever, as I barely do any yoga) over the weekend with my sweet friend Liz, also a single mom living it all (crazy ex who actually texts her with court cases when he gets mad).
–They had about 30-100 people in each class, so they marked off rectangles with blue tape where we put our mats.
–They played live yoga music: the drums, that wooden little piano thing, and the long-necked guitar thing!!
–The blue rectangles didn’t keep out body odors form neighbors, which I was suddenly very sensitive to during the down-dogs.
–Tons of different energies there: athletic prowess form the 3 men in each class (it was not a place to pick up dudes), sexual attraction from women with the hots for the instructors, competition for the best poses, and then just general kind love and openness.
–I learned a lot of really interesting new ideas: “We have been practicing all of our lives for this, what we are going through right now”, “breathing is really important in relationships, as in yoga as well”, “Never hold a pose without breathing”
–I loved it all, very fun and brain-stretching concepts for this midwest, middle class, linear thinking, deskjob girl.

–I have been going to weights class 2-3 times a week lately. I found a way to gain 8 pounds and spend 4,000 extra dollars this summer. I hvae no idea how that happened, but I am working like hell to get out of it. I think I need to run more miles too. that might keep me ofline and away from shopping. We put our energy where ever our goals are. So new goals for me: get back in shape and save money insted of spend it by working instead of shopping. (That means I need ot stay away from IKEA, darn!)

–Cute Guy Update: We have been going out for drinks every Thursday lately, going Dutch, and staying about 2 hours. We also email short little 1-3 liners during the day, without regular habit or expectations. I love this! I am strangely very calm, and yet assured that we will spend time together. We hug at the end, and I leave happy. It is easy to laugh and chat away about whatever topics come up that are superficially soulful (not much kid, divorce, money, religion, politics, or work talk). Last week we sat at a table at a coffee shop that happened to face the front door of a liquor store and we sat and made predictions about what each customer would buy “Oh, he is a Bud man”, “Definitely a vodka woman”. And laughed and laughed.

I went on a date with cute old interest last night, he popped up out of the blue with a phone call saying he would be driving through town. So we met, I had no expectations, as my heart is on CG. But he was cute, and engaging, and we had a lot of fun. I drank yummy red wine and shared about finances, relationships, divorces, and kids (hitting almost all of the taboo topics). At the end, he asked if we could see each other again, and I said “Yes, without expectations, I like to stay in the present”. I don’t know where that girl came from… but here she is!


Misery, Joy, and Contentment


“Nothing is miserable unless you think it so; and on the other hand, nothing brings happiness unless you are content with it.”
— Boethius

I love that quote. The pressure is on us to decide if the rainy day will get us down, or will be a blessing to the mountain snowpack and our winter ski plans.

Will the 4 am unplanned wake up time be a curse because we are convinced we will be sleepy later on, or is it a blessing becasue it is time away from daily pressures when we can meditate in a quiet house?

Will the boss’ crusty mood be a hindrance to my productivity becasue I take it personally, or will it be a good reason to stay away from him and get my work accomplished?

Will my tired mood be an energy drain and bother, or will I use it to focus calmly on one hting at a time?

Will the lack of CG asking me out on an actual date where he pays and I wear my tall shoes be a bummer, or will I use it as time to get to know him as a friend?

Advice only counts when we are giving it


I just finished last night, encouraging my friend (we will just call her Sarah, not her real name) that she is in the right place at the right time, it was a great experience for her, and that life is going along on the perfect plan, just for her. She told me about a 1-night stand with a gorgeous waiter at a restaurant last Friday night where she had met a blind date. Yeah, this friend of mine was able to simultaneously drop the deadbeat and pick up the gorgeous dude. She felt yucky, kind of like she had used or been used, and had gotten too drunk to turn it in to something better. I asked her if she had fun, and she said “Oh yeah”. I replied that it was the perfect experience then, and resulted in exactly what was supposed to happen. Isn’t that smart and sweet and wise of me? I felt very smug.

So today, it is difficult to imagine that CG (Cute Guy) is going to step up to the plate… We emailed a tiny bit last week and on Monday, but he has chosen not to reply to my last one, not to ask me out again, AND, I saw him in the hallway a moment ago, and he looked down, grabbing at his shirt as if he lost his pen or something very important like that RATHER than say “Hey, how are you? What are you doing this weekend, because I cannot wait to see you. I cannot bear to spend another weekend without you!”.

So, Big Goober is his new nickname. BG. I am grumpy and pissed and want to make faces at my computer screen. My wisdom to Sarah certainly does not apply to me, even though I also had a fabulous time and enjoyed every minute of it and wanted to be content with being myself and enjoying myself for 2 hours on our date.

I don’t want to be happy and pleased about my rather gray-ish situation, or chalk it up to experience, or anything I told me friend Sarah to do. I want to pout and be grumpy rather than imagine that something else, much better will come along, or that maybe he is too afraid anyway of actually seeing me or doing any more than hugging me. I don’t want to imagine that maybe he just needs time. I have magically transformed into a 14-year old who wants the boy to ask her to Homecoming, damn it!I don’t want to think that also, maybe I need more time, or that we have all the time in the world. I don’t, I wanted a cute boyfriend by Thanksgiving.

I also told Sarah that tomorrow she would feel differently. I might consider that is true for me too.

I Don’t Think Being a Spaz Counts as Flirting


I don’t think being a spaz counts as flirting. But I don’t know how to do anything else today.

I have “sort of” a date with Cute Guy from the office today. We are “sort of” having lunch. A late lunch, because we both have kid duties after school, and the premise is a drink. But nothing solid is planned. So I “sort of” woke up at 4 am, wide-eyed, remembering immediately that I am supposed to be light, and carefree, and talk only of superficial soulful things, whatever the Hell that is. Sara told me yesterday that is best, and to be flirty and just “have fun”. “WHAT?!”

I have forgotten how to flirt. I am trying not to count the months since I last had a date, trying to remember that I am an attractive, smart, interesting woman with nice legs. But then I remember that I have to work 8 hours before this lunch, and I have a meeting at 1, so Spaz-Girl wonders if 2 or 2:30 counts as late lunch. We didn’t really plan a specific time or place or plan… There was more mumbling than planning.

Then the Crazy Girl steps in and says “Oh, he will probably blow you off anyway, so you better blow him off first”. Then Spaz Girl chimes in “Maybe you should go running right now? How about some caffeine? Is there any laundry to do? Does the dog need a bath? You have 2 hours until kids wake up. You could bake a pie”.

Zen girl steps up and says, “Maybe a little meditation? Read the Bible? Read that boring book about travelling in India and take a nap!”

Spaz Girl: “I could call SG, she was on Match for months and remembers how to date, except that she is a blog friend, and lives in Great Britain, maybe, I can’t really tell where she lives, actually I don’t even know her name, so I cannot call her. Maybe Struggling Dad could tell me what to wear today- something soft so he will touch my shoulder or back and like it and want to touch me more. But I of course have no idea where that blogger friend lives either. I think he is Australian? Oh my God, what if Cute Guy and I have nothing to say to each other and just stare like 2 deer caught in headlights?” Sandy is laughing now and wants to call me (call!).

Mark would be laughing too, telling me “You are fine, just enjoy, smile a lot, let him look into your pretty brown eyes”. All Spaz Girl can reply is, “Oh my God, I need a couple of drinks if you want me to make eye contact. How old am I? Way too old to act like this…” So Crazy Girl decided to write a blog, imagining your comments and answers. Melissa would quietly cheer me on. Liz would cheer me on very loudly, with LOTS OF CAPS, thankfully. Delia would send me some awesome energy. But, I am still hyperventilating, and you won’t read this until Saturday, when it is all over, because there is some mysterious lag time. It takes a day for things to show up in your subscription box.

“Agh” Crazy Girl insists I am alone, and stupid for doing this. I work in the same office with him. What if it is a disaster? Bhanu would insist nothing is a disaster; it is all a learning experience.

So many topics are off limits- nothing serious, Sara said… No divorce talk, no kid talk, no work talk, no politics talk, no religion talk, no energy talk, no money talk (ever, she claims), no boss talk. So what does that leave? Skiing, dogs, snow, and vacations (or does that qualify as money/work talk?)

I have to think positive, light, he is just a friend, I am enjoying adult company, we have a lot in common to talk about… So I will focus on breathing, pray that God will remind me how to flirt (If it is His will for me; Oh Crap- it better be His will!), run with the dog, focus on work, turn this over to God, and stay away from garlic and onions.

There better not be any kissing, hugging, or implications of it (although I have only been fantasizing about such). That would flip me out completely. It is 4:52 am, is it too early for a shot of vodka? (Just kidding. I know, “Don’t drink too much and say something stupid! Liz and SG would say”).

You are all going to have to come with me and hide in the bathroom.