Holy Hairiness, Batman!

Can we just discuss Shawn?

Because I need to. I've been meaning to for days, and I can wait no longer.

Shawn is the yoga instructor at this new studio Susie and I tried last week.

Ya'll - not only did he answer the door of the studio in nothing more than his bathing suit, but that is also all he wore while he was teaching. Granted, it was hot. A steamy 98.6 degrees to be exact. And I might not have been so adverse to his wearing his bathing suit if he had a body I cared to stare at for ninety minutes. Not that he had a bad body, mind you. It was just covered in hair. Thick, curly, brown hair everywhere. He was like a human chia pet. And the bathing suit wasn't the kind that moved with him, if you know what I mean. There were at least six times I was pretty sure I was about to see more of Shawn than I (ever) wanted to. And two more where I thought the bathing suit might rip apart at the seams. Luckily, Shawn's suit was made of the same material as Superman's speedo, so no one had to make "little Shawn's" acquaintance.

After the class was over, Shawn passed out awards to other attendees. Susie and I didn't win anything. Instead, Shawn suggested that we come back to another beginner class before moving on. He gave us a schedule, circled upcoming classes that he would be teaching, gave us his personal cell phone number, a packet of electrolytes and sent us on our way.

Now, it is important to mention that Susie and I have both been to yoga classes before. That is not to say that Susie and I are yoga experts, by any means. We just aren't beginners. We attended the beginner class at the new studio mainly to orient ourselves and familiarize ourselves with their lingo and ways of doing things. So, it was a little disconcerting that Shawn didn't feel that Susie and I were up to the challenge of advancing. We were game, though, and told Shawn we'd be back.

That was last Wednesday.

When Shawn didn't see us on Thursday (a mere 24 hours later), he called us both to check on us, see how we were feeling, and remind us of his class schedule. Oh, and he gave me his cell phone number - twice - just incase I had misplaced it.

Sorta creepy there Shawn. Sorta creepy.

Susie and I decided to use Shawn's schedule against him, and intentionally choose an earth class that took place at the same time Shawn was teaching fire. And, despite Shawn's concern that we weren't ready, I think Susie and I both did fine. Our instructor definitely didn't say anything to suggest we needed to take a step back.

Our luck did run out, however, when it came time to leave. Apparently, Shawn's fire class ended early, so he was sitting at the front desk. He kind of gave us "the eye" as we filed past, and reminded us both that he wanted to see us both in another beginner class soon.

I was just glad I recognized him with a shirt on.

So far, there haven't been any more messages from Shawn, but it has only been 48 hours. Anything is still possible.

It's all about the sushi...

“I was in yoga the other day. I was in full lotus position. My chakras were all aligned. My mind is cleared of all clatter and I'm looking out of my third eye and everything that I'm supposed to be doing. It's amazing what comes up, when you sit in that silence. 'Mama keeps whites bright like the sunlight, Mama's got the magic of Clorox 2.'”

- Ellen DeGeneres, Here And Now, 2003

All last week, I had a sore, scratchy throat and a mild headache. Not sure if it was allergies or if I had a touch of a mild cold.

Anyway, I didn’t feel that bad, so I participated in all of my usual activities – including yoga on Wednesday night. Everything was fine for most of the class, but towards the end I started to get a little dizzy. I tried to push through it (sound familiar?!), but the vertigo only got worse. Finally, I made the decision to sit down and spent the remainder of the class in waterfall pose against the back wall.

After the class was over, my mom, Trevor and I were in the process of rolling up our mats when Janie, our yoga instructor, walked over and asked if I was okay. I told her I was fine, and had just gotten a little overheated and dizzy.

Janie: “Are you pregnant?”

Me: “No. Nothing like that. I just haven’t been feeling well this week and I think I got a little dehydrated.”

My Mom: “Darn!”

Janie: “It sounds like someone wants to be a grandma!”

Me: “Mom!”

My Mom: “What? I mean, can you blame me?”

I’m so glad to know that my mother has (apparently) lost all hope that Trevor and I will ever get married, and is now secretly hoping for an out of wedlock pregnancy.

Sigh.

In other news, yoga class this morning went much, much better. I even – briefly – made it into crow. That is, until I lost my balance and face planted into my mat.

I think I’m going to skip yoga next week…

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY...

Here are some of my pictures from last year's Greenville Avenue St. Patrick's Day Parade. I don't know why I didn't post them this time last year, but whatever. Better late than never, right?

Plus, I didn't make it to this year's parade. The whole I-gave-up-all-good-stuff-for-Lent thing (including sweets, fried food AND alcohol) kind of put a damper on the St. Patrick's Day festivities. In fact, Trevor and I opted for a hot box yoga class and lunch with my grandmother instead of a morning of green beer, drunken crowds and loud music. We are super-exciting like that.

Yeah: Yawn.

Anyway, here you go:

Everyone CAN wear pants like this, but not everyone SHOULD.

Where do you go to buy green leggings?

What happens when a leprechaun mates with a zebra.

Uhmmm, there's a baby. Whose baby? Hello?

Because NOTHING says St. Patrick's Day like a pirate hat.

It's the guy from the LUCKY CHARMS commercials!

Someone should pinch these two...

I want a green cowboy hat...

Obviously, THIS is the place to be...

Really? A Hawaiian shirt? That's the BEST you can do?

For the tough, strong and extremely bendy...

As part of my attempt to improve myself during the Lenten season, I decided to start doing yoga again. I used to really love going once or twice a week, but stopped when I moved a couple of years ago.

Too my surprise (and delight) my mother wanted to go as well, so I got online and found a place within walking distance of my house that offered special “drop in” rates (I don’t like to commit to anything until I know I like it).

Anyway, we went to the 6:15 class for beginners. It was fun and I think I’ll go back, but…

…YA’LL, I ALMOST FAINTED!

Seriously. The room was about 900 degrees, and I started to get dizzy. I thought I could push through it – even when I started to see little black dots everywhere. It – literately - wasn’t until all sound started to dissipate from my ears that I thought, “Uh, oh. I’m going to pass out!” I immediately sat down on my mat, and (thank goodness) started to slowly recover. Because I can think of nothing worse than being THAT GIRL that faints during yoga. Especially on my first visit. That would pretty much guarantee I’d never go back. My ego can only take so much.

So, yeah. Guess there is a lot more to that whole “improvement” thing than I originally anticipated (as in “Try Not To Almost Faint Next Time, Jacka$$!”).

Sigh. It’s never simple, is it?