Post Weekend Thoughts

I'll admit it, those two posts I did over the weekend were completely half-assed. But I posted something! And it's not like I did nothing all weekend... I doubled yoga classes both days, blowing right past the halfway mark. I think I might actually make it! I was thinking a lot about personal motivations as well. At the end of my first Saturday class, right in the middle of shavasana, we got to hear the 'motivation' coming through the wall from the gym next door. The instructor was screaming "GO! PUSH IT! GO! GO! GO!" and other, equally loud but incoherent things in a tone that would have made me give her the hate face and immediately shut down emotionally. Apparently yelling works for some people, but definitely not me. Flash back to my first and only soccer practice: I believe it was fifth grade. Some of the other girls I was friends with had played the year before and won some kind of championship and seemed to really enjoy it. I, on the other hand, had never played. So I show up for the first practice, all excited with my new soccer shorts (they were purple, with white and black beads on the drawstring), ready to have fun with my friends. WRONG. It was conditioning time, which meant adults yelling at kids while they run, and then tossing them balls to block, and if you missed the block you got to run some more. I explained to them that I had never played before, and that no one had yet shown me how to properly block a ball. This is apparently some innate skill I was supposed to have inherited from all the things that do seem to crash into me daily, but sadly, I still missed that damn ball. Whereupon I was told to run sprints. They got my blank face, as I again explained that no one had show me how to perform the skill I was supposed to be demonstrating. Nope, reason didn't work on the crazy adults. I had failed, and I must run as punishment (because running makes you a better blocker...?). So I ran their silly sprints. I ran them all the rest of that afternoon, and then I never came back. Because I am one hell of a stubborn person, and I do not take kindly to raised voices. You want to yell, you better be prepared for me to yell back. Or cry. It really depends on how upset I am. This is why I find yoga so perfect (at least at my studio). It's not about being perfect. It's about being your best you, no matter what version of you shows up that day. You can be tired, sore, limber, bouncy, whatever you are that day, and as long as you're in that room being there for yourself, you have succeeded. I also love that within this challenge time period, I already see myself making progress. And I think my teachers have noticed, too. I'm getting more corrections, but always in a very positive 'you're doing great-now try this, can you feel that now?' kind of way. Which to me means I've progressed out of the 'I'm doing the best I can' phase, and am now in the phase where standing on my head seems like a possibility (years away still, but someday maybe!) I also love the instructor I have on Sunday mornings, because she has amazing taste in music. There is always some gem of a song that I have to ask her about afterward. This was my favorite from yesterday:

Music is always an inspiration, so when you find someone who uses it to make your practice even better you're willing to do crazy things, like wake up for an 8 AM yoga class on a Sunday. Because you might need that song later.

December Things

So the Holidays came and went, the New Year did the same, and I suppose it's time I catch up on blog posts. I'm not really sure I ever got fully in the spirit this year, and I'm still not celebrating with my parents till the end of January, so I guess I'm allowed to be really off kilter about the whole thing. I did manage to fit in some fun things, and of course I took pictures!

I went to the Carnegie Museum a couple of times, and since I used to work there, it's always a little like going home. I have to stop myself from going down staff hallways and snooping where I'm not supposed to be anymore. 

Chomp!

Aww, your wittle hands!

Rock illumination.

Should have been a geologist, I love rocks...

I had been trying to get there to see the International exhibit at the Art Museum, so when I found out they were also having a ceremony for the raising of the Tlingit Totem Pole that they had commissioned from artist Tommy Joseph, I had to go. The teensy tiny part of me that's Cherokee responds very strongly to all things Native American. Some day I'll learn more about that part of myself, but till then I'll just look at this awesome carving.

Curtain down.

He's holding a seal with his teeth. 

I always enjoy the International... since it's only held roughly every four years I like to think of it as the Olympics of modern art, just held permanently in Pittsburgh. I'm not much of a modern art girl, I like my things old and pretty, but it's always good for conversation. My thoughts are pretty much exactly in line with this article I read in Vanity Fair about the London Frieze art festival. "Contemporary art isn’t easy. It’s not obvious. You need to be told. This stuff has to be—simply has to be!—better than it looks."  I don't get it most of the time, but it's fun to look. 

I would use this giant cage, but not for my hosiery. 

Characters.

It's like a sideways sci-fi city.

These guns make music. 

These blocks of pressed paper will fall apart through the course of the exhibit. 

Pancreas pain is a real thing.

Since I went during the Holidays, they had Sculpture Hall decorated with trees and lights. It's one of my favorite rooms on a regular day, and this made it magical.

Orange cat in the tree.

Hanging angels.

I really love these. Remind me of 'What Dreams May Come'. 

Childhood tree.

It's just a short walk up the hill to Phipps Conservatory, and how could I pass up their Winter Garden? Especially since they have evening hours to show off all the lights. I love it so much, I even renewed my membership, so expect a whole year of flower photos.

Magically creepy tree.

Cathedral in the background.

Garden room. My favorite.

Christmas cottage.

Dino chase. :)

Winter garden orbs.

Pretty lights.

Hanging presents. 

This tree is fabulous. 

It was raining out the night I went to Phipps, so we happened to have a giant umbrella. And you know I couldn't contain my giddy excitement at all the lights, so naturally it led to me playing Mary Poppins. My dad took this photo. I love it.

Winds in the east, mist coming in. / Like somethin' is brewin' and bout to begin.

Happy Hobbit Day!

Guess what I'm doing at midnight?! Sorry, that was a pretty obvious question. Of course I'm going to see The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, and of course I'm a giddy mess about it. But I'm also trying to fight off a cold, so my head is rather foggy, and all I've wanted to do for days is sleep. All day at work I was planning on coming home and taking a nap before the midnight madness, but seeing as it's already past 7:00 it's pretty unlikely. I'm far too easily distracted, and if I get warm and comfortable now I might not wake back up (and then I would cry). Instead, I've been listening to past movie soundtracks to get in the mood, occasionally whispering things to my replica of The One Ring and perfecting my Gollum voice (the phlegm really helps).

I've also been thinking about what a big Tolkien nerd I am, and all the wonderful times I've had fully embracing that. Because being a nerd is awesome (just ask Will Wheaton). I first saw LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring on my 18th birthday. Aside from my immediate family, the only person who remembered it was my birthday that day was my best friend Heather. I pretty much spent the whole day in a mini depressive state (the fact that January is a terribly cold and grey month really never helps) and I'm sure I was wrestling with the notion of being a legal adult and what that was supposed to mean to my life. I think I had already made up my mind that I was moving away for school, but I know I was never fully comfortable in my 'home'. So instead of going out and buying porn and cigarettes to celebrate my 18th, I went to the theater and bought into a whole new world. I was hooked.

Cue LOTR poster on my dorm wall, soundtrack memorized note for note, replicas of as many movie props as I could reasonably convince my parents I needed. I'm such a big nerd that I even took a class at college on Tolkien and Lewis (it was an Honors class, and I read soooo much). But this was also the thing that got me hooked on midnight screenings and gave me a love for super crazy fandoms. I remember planning to see Return of the King with some of my cousins who were all going to be coming to a family gathering in KY. There is nothing in that town but a mall and a not-so-fabulous movie theater, but they were having a midnight show, and we were going. Except that they had had a twelve-ish hour drive (compared to my three) and had all decided to pass out (aka sleep. Weaklings). I had been looking forward to this for a really long time, and my dad could see that I was kind of crushed. So he took me. Confession: my dad's also a pretty big nerd, but more on the X-Files government conspiracy I-think-Roswell-has-aliens spectrum. We get out of that theater around 3:30 AM completely jazzed up, crawling out of our skins with Mt Dew overload, and looking for something to eat. And there was NOTHING open. No gas station with munchies, no grocery store, no fast food, no doughnut places, NOTHING. So we go back to the house (where there were people sleeping all over the floor, yay togetherness and cheapness) and try to find something quiet to eat in the kitchen. Well we're not quiet together, we're giggily, especially at that hour, and I don't remember what we found to eat, but I remember being shushed several times and thinking the whole thing was hilarious, and what a great time I had with my dad. The next afternoon I went to the theater again with my cousins to watch it a second time, and that was the first time I saw the same movie twice in less than 24 hours (but not the last). That was a pretty fantastic day.