I Like to Say Yngwie Malmsteen

My brother is a big fan of heavy metal music. And when we were growing up I was often subjected to, er um, treated to, amateur renditions of popular guitar riffs and Ozzy Osborne lyrics. Which may explain my tendency to walk around the house (age 5 or 6) chanting, "I Am Iron Man!"

Despite these protestations of my childhood self, I am really not that hardcore. But everyone seems to think I am.

I was chatting to a friend today and mentioned that I'm having drinks with my friend Tomkolson tonight. I also mentioned that there would be no hanky panky for numerous reasons but not least of which, I will not be rebound girl.

My friend paused and said, "Oh, did Tom just go through a break up?"

No you schmuck. I did.

Funny thing is, he's not the only person who's reacted like this. People seem to have forgotten already the Kalesy of a month ago (tomorrow's my anniversary. Go me!) who couldn't make it through an hour without tearage. Multiple folks have seemed shock when I express moments of pain and suffering, as if they're wondering why.

Perhaps I would be fairing better if I was still listening to Black Sabbath. Maybe I should find myself a local cover band. Could be fun. Ripped jeans and big hair. Leather pants with leopard prints. Hmmmmm.....

Made Me Laugh

Thanks to the brillian folks at b3ta.com for this one....

More Loser's Club Vindication

It so easily could have been a Loser's Club goes to Six Flags story. I was on the fence about going anyway. Two trips to Western MA in one weekend plus an entire day spent with a group of Peeps I didn't know. But WriterGal talked me into it, so...

Everyone was super nice. And by that I mean they were sarcastic and funny in a dark, mean, bitter way. Which meant that they were acting themselves around me. (I'd heard enough stories to know what to expect of their behavior.)

We get there and make a beeline for the Cyclone. And wait in line. And wait in line. Every single ride at the park was backed up for at least 45 minutes. And we're almost to the front and a buzzer starts going off. And then they start running empty trains. Not a good sign. Ten minutes later, people from the very front of the line start leaving. Ride's shut down.

Next ride, the Catapult. This thing looks disgustingly scary but, that's what amusement parks are for. We make it onto the ride, strap in, and then a voice comes over the loudspeaker. Ride's shut down.

After a full five hours at the park, I can only report going on three rides. Of those three, in one I lost an earring, and in another I think I completely freaked out the guy sitting next to me. (He's probably not used to hearing people whispering yoga mantras while waiting for a ride to hurtle you into space.)

So why isn't this a Loser's Club story? Because on the way back to my car, the gal driving me mentioned that her sister- and brother-in-law live in Gloucester. And they're really cool. My age. She should put us in touch. And she and her wife visit every summer and rent a house. We should hang.

So, I had a decent time with people who didn't seem completely horrified at my presence and even made some instant friends in my new home town.

Oh, and I somehow found my earring before exiting the ride to my left.

I believe they call that vindication.

Wild Thing

I know you're going to be shocked by this statement but, yesterday's yoga workshop was amazing.


Sianna is a charged bundle of wisdom and energy. Her meditation for the morning class was on "The Wild Thing." This is a pose that John Friend "developed" and that has been named in Sanskrit as "Am'ing to Moreness" -- being open to always becoming moremoremore. And the way you open to always becoming more is by opening your heart. See?

The whole day really taught me two things: one, my anger and childish NannyNannyPooPooism of the last three weeks (yes, folks, it's a "technical name" kind of day) is just that - childish. Yes, I'm angry and hurt and sad, but there's just no need to wear it on my sleeve like a badge of honor. I need to just "feel the feelings I'm feeling" and continue to live my life authentically. And, two, I need to be gentle with myself and know that even though I'm really scared about all the developments of the past month or so, I am really courageous in being this open to this much more.


Pretty deep words for 9:15 a.m. and no coffee yet. And now I'm off to do the truly yogic thing of going to Six Flags. Here's to riding the rollercoaster of life!

D Day

Tomorrow is the last day at IrishCompany. I'm having trouble envisioning a commute that doesn't involve Storrow or not making the (almost) daily trip to ABP. What's even worse is that I have no idea what my future will look like. On a day to day basis, I have no idea what to expect.

Still, I had therapy tonight and five hours of yoga to look forward to on Saturday. I'll see yoginis I know and love and even my good friend WriterGal. So happiness on the horizon.

Besides, it was time to repaint my toenails. I painted them aqua and plan on wearing the aqua dress that Mr. Zips and I had such a fight about on my birthday. Why not look uber hot on my last day of work? Maybe I'll try to talk BeautifulGirl into grabbing lunch at the Italian place next door. I'd like one last Jimmy Blue-Eyed Special, s'il vous plais.