>
Russian nesting dolls with
a twist. Mouseover each to see the reverse.
>
Some people who post pictures from their digital
camera without changing the software-assigned
file name. These
can be found. It's interesting to see what
people will post. (This search tool creates a
random number and slaps it into a filename that
has the same structure used by different digital
cameras. Hit refresh to get new pics. Some may
be NSFW.)
attempt
to finally put away the growing pile of laundry
In
between all of these things I will be trying to get
some work done.
-
When
to ValVillage last night. I wasn't very successful but
I did walk away with two things.
Some
records (45s) for a handbag I want to make. Ask me if
I know anything about sewing. Ask me how long I surfed
for a pattern last night (Answer: until my eyes were
watering). Then ask me if I know how to use a sewing
machine (Answer: no). THEN ask me if I have
a sewing machine (Answer: no).
I don't care. I am going to make it. It is going to
rock. Maybe I don't need a sewing machine. Anyone know
where I can pick up some cheap vinyl?
A
gray wool dress/coat thing. It's the kind of wool that
suits are made of. It has no sleeves. It has buttons
up the front. I'm not sure what it is but I like
it.
Over
and out. Have a good weekend!
a
<wednesday
october 1, 2003 - 1:02 p.m.>
"At
age 3, Timberland is too young to be embarrassed about
being named after a bestselling brand of footwear, but
his mother cringes."
"His daddy insisted on it because Timberlands were
the pride of his wardrobe. The alternative was Reebok,"
said the 32-year-old nurse, who is now divorced."
Gads.
What on earth is this world the western world
coming to? Story
here.
<10:20
a.m.>
Last
night it felt like autumn was officially upon us. Before
I left for yoga I pulled on some lined wind pants.
I
walked quickly - an attempt to fend off the crisp night
air more than anything. If I were to pause I knew the
cold would seep through my layers of clothing and dilute
the meagerly built-up warmth.
I
hustled and got there early.
The
previous class was still in session. I waited in the
hallway.
Further
down the same hall I could see a group of old ladies
sitting with their chairs arranged in a circle. (Have
I mentioned that my yoga class takes place in a convent?)
I guessed the ladies were nuns. They were about the
right age. Theirs isn't exactly a growth industry.
They
chattered and twittered in French. I could only hear
the odd exclamation and snippet of what they were talking
about.
They
were chatting softly when suddenly a very loud THWACK
came from their circle. From my vantage point I couldn't
see what was causing the noise. It repeated intermittently.
chitchatchitchat
THWACK chitchatchitchat THWACK
It
sounded like someone was being clobbered across the
posterior with a 2 x 4 of pressure-treated timber. Had
I stumbled upon the Hell's Angels retirement home? Were
we in danger?
And
every odd THWACK was followed by a loud cheer and a
number (in French).
THWACK
... dix!!
Funny,
I couldn't hear any cries of pain - muffled or otherwise.
THWACK
... quinze!
Curiosity
got the better of me. The women I could see from where
I was standing appeared harmless enough. If they attacked
me I could just kick their walkers out from under them
and make a run for it.
THWACK
... treize!
I
peeked.
They
were pitching bean bags into a wooden target - the kind
that is hollow and has holes carved into it, each one
representing a different point value.
It
sounded like they were having a great ol' time.
THWACK
... quatorze! One lady beamed at me.
-
The
doors opened, and yoga class began. It was tough this
week. It has been getting progressively more difficult.
Believe it or not, one of the hardest poses this week
was... sitting.
Ok
ok, the sitting pose we did came near the end of the
class. I was already feeling like someone had been kneading
the muscles between my shoulder blades with the heel
of a steel-toe boot.
It's
actually called the Staff Pose - imagine, if you will,
sitting on the floor with a rod embedded in your spinal
column. That's about how comfortable it was. The beauty
of Iyengar yoga is that the teacher tells you what muscles
to focus on, which way they should be moving etc. Some
are a little difficult to wrap your head around. After
all, how do you "lift your inner knee" or
turn your thighs one way, and your shins and your butt
the other?
By
the time I tightened and adjusted all the right muscles
(the teacher poked me several times to point out what
I needed to be doing) I felt like I was about ready
to fall over. It was sort of like the pose pictured
here,
but with the legs together. It killed. Looks so easy,
doesn't it?
After
it was over I collapsed back down into my familiar and
more comfortable slouch. My back screamed with relief.
Next
week we're going to be doing this.
We started with a modified version of this.
I
jokingly asked if I had mistakenly signed up for circus
school. I'm not sure what I've gotten myself into. :)
Next
week we're going to be doing 
