This blog is welcome to anyone and everyone, regardless of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, or political affiliation. Unless you don't like writing short stories or smelling bear. Or if you voted for the other guy. Also, I don't really like it when you leave up the toilet seat, so could you stop doing that? Muchas, muchas gracias.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Calming & Centering Via Inner Rage

Isn't exercising supposed to make one more calm and more . . . uh . . . centered? Because on Monday I started exercising hardcore, and I don't think it's made me any nicer. In fact, I think I'm more of a jerk.

This one yoga teacher of mine likes to begin each class with a "lesson" that she revisits thematically during the class. I suspect that she just barely remembers this theme until the very end of the class, when the friggin' lesson has to come back full circle, to sort of reinforce it, and it's ALWAYS about evolution (which she pronounces with a long e). So at the beginning of a recent class she asked us to close our eyes and "envision" the "evolution" of a caterpillar from its larval stage through its chrysalis stage and on to its butterfly stage, because, she said, this was such an amazing metaphor for yoga! And I realized that I was probably cracking my molars with all the jaw-clenching I was doing. And you'll NEVER GUESS what we were told at the end of the class!!! Then, in her special 4th-of-July-class, she asked us to "envision" the "evolution" of a firecracker and to dwell on the moment of "ignition," and I had the same molar-thingie. By the end of the class we were fizzling out, but no worries! The cycle of igniting, exploding, and fizzling continues throughout the celebration of life! Later, when when we were were supposed to be "present" in the "moment" with all of its "juicyness," I snorted. I am a spiritless creep.

And it's not just yoga. No form of exercise seems to mellow me out. A friend of mine mentioned that he's started running, and I have this (I hope healthy) competitive side, so I started running in the mornings, up and down the Panhandle. I'd hoped the exercise would calm me down enough to face the Department of Motor Vehicles - since I've moved into this house, I've been parking my car more than a mile away, just to avoid the process of getting my new parking sticker. I hate going to the DMV so very very very much, and I like to think that my hate of it is special, that it runs much deeper than most peoples'. But I thought that after a morning run through the Panhandle, I'd be calm and centered and all right with the DMV.

Not so. I arrived early so I could be one of the first in line and manage not to feel the rage that boils up inside of me when I have to wait in line for something I'm required to get but that I do not really want. And then finally, when the DMV opened up, I was moved to the back of the line for not standing in correct line-formation against the brick wall of the building. Beginning with those at the front of the line, a woman with a clipboard asked each of us a series of questions and then handed out the appropriate forms. When my turn finally came up, I was told that I'd been in the wrong line entirely, and I had to walk to the other side of the building and go to the end of another line. It went on and on like that for three hours, and by that point I was pinching my forehead and crying. I got on the phone and listened to the recording on the DMV hold line as it reassured me over and over again that my call was so very important to it. Like a crazy person, I spoke back to the recording using the noun, adjective, and verb forms of the word "fuck" in a variety of combinations.

This Image Is Not Related In Any Way To My Post, But It's From A Book I Liked When I Was A Kid. My, There Is A Lot Of Nudity In This Illustration!

Anyhoo, my thighs hurt, and today I skipped running & simply did a little yoga. While we were in some kind of twist, this new teacher told us to enjoy the "corset-y feeling of domination," which, okay, at least she has some style. I'll try running again tomorrow, though this time, maybe I'll wait until after work. I'm looking forward to Saturday (why? It's a secret!). On Sunday, I'm attending my first improv class. Alles gut.


Blogger matty said...

Wow --- is your new teacher from France!?!?!

You know what I enjoy most? ...I'll tell you. ...I like to simply stretch myself into an odd pretzel shape and think about the absolute bliss that is the juicy-ness of my life. ...sorta makes me feel like a butterfly about to take flight out of a jar and land on the index finger of Goldie Hawn on a soft spring morning.

Hey! I was just thinking -- we should try holding up that 7/11 again! ...this time we might not get caught and buy us some cool new clothes!

11:22 PM

Blogger ginab said...

nudy-butts, nudy-butts. long eeeeEs make me want to pap my own nudy butt.

You're normal, how 'bout it. No one wants the stuff, believe me. It's a cog-nation, it's a cog-nation (I'm singing).

But I also remembered the pizzas. ahh. hot and out stretched to the many homeless. no cabs whatsoever. no where, no how.

loved it. don't cry tho. the bursar's not worth your tears.

Oh, I liked "All the King's Clothes" when I was a kid because there was inserted a suggestive illustration. Not as happy as yours. Come to think of it, I see a crystal ball of future lovers when I look back at my giggle-pic.

9:02 AM

Blogger sage said...

With a long "e", it'd be just a jump to evil-lotion, right?

I did Tai Chi for a few months, it was good but it was a day class and I was the youngest in the group and one of two not on Social Security. I had these visions of doing it on the shores of Lake Superior at sunrise, but so far that hasn’t happened.

Yes, I love Nevada, at least the small isolated towns, I ain't lost anything in Vegas or Reno. It would be a great place to write. The winters in Northern Nevada will make you stronger, or an alcoholic…

12:26 PM

Anonymous Pants said...

The DMV makes people crazy. CRAZY! I once made the mistake of making eye contact with an eighty-something lady behind me...the eye contact set of the longest set of expletives I've ever heard. It was shocking, because she looked a lot like my super Mormon grandma...who would never use the "C" word, let alone in conjunction with mother f'r!

1:59 PM

Blogger ing said...


If my teacher was from France she'd be lifting the back of her nightgown, and. . . But Matty, that movie was super perverted! I can't believe you want me to wear my hair like Isabelle Huppert's!

If only Goldie Hawn were riding barefooted and bareback on a speckled horse through a meadow of dry grass and wildflowers, so startled, so wise. If only the last time we held up a 7-11 you hadn't run out the door, screaming and throwing cash in the air; if only two blocks later when they arrested you, you hadn't turned me in. Remember that?! I do, canary-man.

p.s.: Narc!



This illustration scares me a little, because it's so sentimental. I guess I'm starting to sympathize with the modernists, though I appreciate the idealization of childhood as this state of bliss. Or maybe I mean, I appreciate the desire for an ideal state of being.

Is it normal to be confused?



And the most evil of lotions, I hear, is Jergen's. Did you know that The Devil uses Jergen's lotions to soften his hoofs? It's fire-retardant, I hear.

I've never seen Lake Superior, but Lake Michigan is purty. I love freshwater lakes, but I'm scared of being cold, and swimming snakes, and floating poop. Little fish are okay, though, and the weeds at the bottom brushing my legs. But the inevitable drowned-woman-who-haunts-the-lake is kind of menacing.



Well, sometimes expletives are called for. Especially if one is an eighty-year-old Mormon grandmother. At eighty, it would be so disgraceful in the eyes of the church to have no great-great grandchildren. Still, though, the "C" word — there's no excuse! And that other word. . . obviously, that woman at the DMV was from France!

10:20 PM

Blogger matty said...

Ing! It was Isabelle in all her brilliant perverse glory!! ...and, she looked awesome! MA MERE was meant to be perverse...

...but, I NEVER turned you in! ...that was your new yoga instructor!

...I ain't no narc! However, it was fun tossing about our loot!

11:48 PM

Blogger sage said...

Lake Superior is cold, always, unless you're in a shallow bay. Otherwise, it's gets up to about 55 degrees in the summer. The good thing is that no self-respecting snake would be caught dead swimming in it--or maybe the snake would be dead as they are warm blooded animals.

I love the rocky coastline of Superior--Michigan has beaches like those I grew up on in NC, only the water doesn't get as warm.

9:26 AM

Blogger matty said...

...Byron told me to stop scaring my friends with MA MERE! ...but, Alan liked it upon his 3rd or 4th viewing. He told me it offended him, but he kept borrowing it.


10:31 AM

Blogger ing said...


Yes, it was fun tossing the loot. Too bad it was so windy, though. Because I had dreams, and now my dreams have all blown away. . .



Any body of water that doesn't contain snakes or eels is superior in my book.

I grew up on cold, rocky beaches. I have to say, I prefer sand and warm water. I'm a hedonist.



Well, it offended me, too! I thought about watching it again, but I was too offended. So I'm sure that Alan borrowed the movie NOT to watch it again, but to keep you from loaning it out to other people with delicate sensibilities.

I still have it. Should I drop it off at Alan's, or would you like me to bring it directly back to you and B?

4:34 PM


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home