Adventures of a Tofu Slut

Oh, hello, I love long weekends. There should be more! In fact, every weekend should be a three-day weekend. Because, you know, I actually did everything I had to do and everything I wanted to do, and was a big social bunny on top of that. In fact, sarcasma and shoefiend are probably sick of me, since I saw them Saturday, Sunday and Monday. :)

( Quick weekend update )

And then on Monday night great hordes of people came over (aka starfishchick, circe_tigana, sarcasma, sanity_clause, shoefiend, and vestra and vestra's friend S. (who does not have an LJ yet, although I think we may have badgered her into it), back from Cobourg for the night), and we sat in the ridiculous heat and tried on all the fabulous samples we ordered from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. Between the 45 samples we ordered, and the 15 freebies they sent, we were definitely running out of tester body parts by the end of the evening. When you've been reduced to yogic contortions in order to smell the back of your left ankle, you know you're done. However, we all smell fabulous now, and I think everyone ended up with a wish list of other things to try. Also, a book, as I made everyone borrow things from my bookshelves.

I'll post a complete review of my BPAL scents, but for now, let me just say that Puck, in the immortal words of Circe, "smells like dog shit hiding in the grass of the park after a rain". If anyone wants to experience this for themselves, we have an imp to offer up. :)

Just a little clarification: Yoga? Hard. I take back everything I've ever said about how relaxing and inspiring the classes are, how energetic yet calm I feel afterward. I was lying, even if I didn't know it at the time. Completely fabricating the entire thing.

How did I come to this realization? Well, my happy little intro class ended in August, so I decided to take another class, because that one just felt so good. I thought I was taking another intro class - something to ease me into the practice, something where it was all about breathing, and it didn't really matter that I looked like an twisted tree stump for most of the class. Sadly, I signed up for the wrong day, and ended up in a class called Ashtanga Yoga for Beginners. Fine, I thought, I'm a beginner, and I wouldn't mind delving a little more deeply into the Ashtanga postures. No problem.

Problem. Three problems, actually: My first teacher appears to have been a bit of an anomaly among yoga teachers, most of whom want something from you other than just deeeep breeaaaathing; the "beginners" part of the title is somewhat inaccurate, since the class is really intended for people who are currently studying Ashtanga but want to make sure they're doing it correctly; and the postures, oddly enough, become much harder when you have to actually do them up to speed. Who knew.

I've only had two classes in this series, and I'm very much still enjoying it, but it's definitely been a bruise on my ego. Last night we worked on Surya Namaskara B, which managed to point out to me exactly how unmoving my shins want to be, how much my back is curved in daily life, how short my arms are, and how tight my hamstrings are, among other things. It was so sad - I felt like I was totally letting down the instructor, and I wanted to apologize every other minute. I actually nearly fell over at one point, as I was struggling to move my leg up between my hands from Downward Dog ("gracefully", my ass - it took both hands pulling it along). I definitely heard the teacher stifle a laugh as I attempted to balance myself while bending into a squat. I think I only redeemed myself because I was the only person in class who had heard of the psoas muscle. (I didn't mention that I thought it was spelled "soaz".)

I'm not giving up, though. I figure I made a fool of myself already, so it really can't get any worse. Right? RIGHT??