Oh, you’re darn right it’s a recipe!
When I started on my quest for Clean Eating, I had a couple of things I had to give up. One being my remarkable coke habit. Okay, I live in the Midwest now, so perhaps I should clarify when I say coke, I mean soda. I don’t have a cocaine habit. But if I did, that would be Clean, right? Pure, unrefined? So anyway, back to my Diet Coke habit. I have a great love and admiration for carbonated beverages.
About the same time I replaced my sugar with Sucanat, my Splenda with Agave, and my white flour with whole wheat flour, I came to the bitter and sad realization that I was doing all of this work and still eating a hole in my stomach with the acid, carbonation and not one single clean item in my cokes. Damn. I’ve attempted to replace the cokes in the past with orange flavored drink that’s similar to Tang. But that’s not clean either. What to do? What to do?
The thing is, I don’t like water. Water, in my opinion, is way overrated. I need flavor.
I remembered that my coach served us up water at her place with cucumbers in it. Some fancy restaurants do that. So, I tried it. The first sip was refreshing. The rest of the sips, uh, not so much.
Someone told me that if you do a slice of lemon and a slice of lime, it’s good. Something balances out and the lime takes the edge off the acidity of the lemon. So, I tried that. Nope, doesn’t work for me.
And then I thought about oranges. Fortified with vitamin C, not too acidic. I love oranges. I’ll try it. BINGO! WINNER! WOOHOO! I’ve been drinking water with orange slices in it for well over a month now. I’m sold on it. It’s delicious, not overwhelming. Just the right amount of yummy flavor. And it’s clean. I’m drinking more water than ever before. I’ve kicked my coke habit _ well, the diet one anyways. I still snag a diet coke every now and then, but I’m down to one a week. If that. I heart my water with oranges in it. I workout with it, I take it grocery shopping, everywhere.
It’s a lovely conversation piece too. Everywhere I go, people say, “Oranges in water, I should try that!” Yes. You should. So, here’s my tip on oranges in your water. First of all, wash your orange before you sliced it up and put it in your water. Then, I slice an orange in half. Put one half in the fridge for later. Slice the ends off the other half, and then slice that half into about 4 slices. Add water, y’all. Voila. I tote mine around in a water bottle all day. You can just keep refilling water over the same orange slices all day.
I prefer this lovely “recipe” in a water bottle. That way, the oranges don’t obstruct your water when chugging. But I also don’t like a traditional water bottle. I found this really cool water bottle with a pop off top. That way it doesn’t suck your lip off everytime you go to take a drink. However, I ran over that water bottle the other day. So, I’ll be purchasing a new one soon.
I recently discovered that you don’t want your water to get hot. Ick. That gives it that sour orange taste. Also, when selecting your oranges, find the thick_skinned oranges that are a bear to peel. They hold up in your water better. I’ve tested all kinds of oranges. These work the best. And yes, if you can find them, organic oranges are even yummier, sweeter, and hold up longer.
I realize this recipe is orange slices and water. But you’ll be surprised at how much you talk about it _ just like a recipe. I hope you try it for a summer refresher! Let me know how you like it.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the Day: Coming Back to Life by Pink Floyd

This is my new favorite wardrobe. It’s like a full body girdle. And it makes you buoyant and keeps you from a little bout of hypothermia. Functional AND fashionable!
Julzholla! and I did another triathlon! This time, we challenged ourselves with cool new things like open water swims which necessitates a cool new accessory: a wetsuit. It turns out, putting your face in a pool is slightly different than putting your face in a lake to swim. I suppose there’s no line to guide you in your lane. If there is a line painted on the bottom of a lake, you can’t see it. You can’t see 2″ in front of you. That, and they didn’t turn the heater on in the lake. It was 60 degrees. I know you people think that the air temp of 60 sounds lovely. And to you I say, “Shut it.” And then go take a bath for 10 minutes in 60 degree water. Let me know how that goes for you.
We were so nervous about the swim, we really didn’t care much about the rest of the race. Just getting on the wetsuits in front of 800 other athletes was a victory for us.
But we did it! I was nervous about getting crawled over. Thankfully, we only swam over people, we didn’t get swam over. Sometimes you’re the windshield, sometimes you’re the bug, y’all. Staying on course was a bit nerve racking and I didn’t put my head in the water for the first 50 meters. Swimming freestyle with your head out of the water is like driving with the brakes on. So, eventually, I put my head in the water and kicked it in. I was shocked when I got out of the water to see I’d done 500 meters swim in 9:14!
And then to my least favorite: the dreaded bike. I don’t know why. And I’m not okay with just accepting that I just suck at it. But still, haven’t trained hard enough or found any joy in biking. I’m still working on it. The course was straight out 8 miles and straight back. Shouldn’t be too bad. At mile one, I went to get a swig of water, and when I put the water bottle back in its cage, I dropped the bottle. Woops. Oh, and then ran over it! It was a big bump and I was so thankful that I didn’t crash from running over my water bottle. Because with me, that’s more than possible. It’s plausible. Based on my little bike computer, I was rocking out some serious speed. Maybe I’d finally conquered the bike after all! I was going 25 mph with slack in my pedal on flat land. This is awesome! Yay me! My first clue should have been that even though I was going super fast, I was passing no one. Interesting. I didn’t catch on until I got to the turn around at 8 miles. And that’s when it hit me. Literally. The wind hit me. Wow. This was different than gusts. This was incessant wind. Uh_Oh. It took me 20 minutes to go 8 miles out. It took me 45 minutes to come back the same 8 miles.
The problem I have with triathlons is nature. I’m not really a fan of nature and all of her elements like heat, cold, wind, and rain.
I guess the ride was rough, because I started to see things. I mean, this time, I really tried to just focus on straight ahead and not stop to admire the scenery so much. It turns out that “Hey, look, isn’t that pretty!” doesn’t really jive in the world of triathlons. But I was moving so slow, I couldn’t help it. And at some point, I thought I saw a hedgehog perched on a tree stump. But it turns out it was just a tree stump cut at an angle, and what I thought was the hedgehog was actually the center of the tree.
And I swear to you, an angel in the voice of 2pac himself said to me: “Mmmmmm HMMMMM. Girl, when the wind is at your back, you best recognize!” Absolutely, 2pac. Hey, did you see that hedgehog back there?
How true is that? I really thought I was something special, going 25 mph and all. It was the wind. When you’re going downhill, or getting pushed by 25mph winds, take advantage. Seize that moment.
So, I made it back. And the kids were packing up the car to come search for me. Kidding! Those little suckers were there and ran with me from the transition to the run course. And when they stopped, and I kept going only to start a large uphill climb, I heard Lucy shout “YOU CAN DO THIS MOM!” Ahhhh, and theres the wind at my back again. I best recognize. And then I finished, upright again.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the day: Hold On Be Strong by 2Pac

Remember when we weren’t going to do sports anymore? Yeah, well, I’ve found something that will keep them busy and wear their butts out for the summer. Track & Field, y’all. If this is a competition on smartest Mommy move ever _ I win.
Even better, the track club we found has a try before you buy program. You can attend as many practices as you want. So, Max and Lucy went to 5 practices before I ever had to write a check. And for each practice, I asked the kids if they liked it and wanted to join the track club. And both kids responded with a resounding “YES! WE LOVE IT!” all five times.
Then I wrote a check, and filled out all that painful paperwork. They are official track club members and card carriers for the USTFA (United States Track and Field Association). And lo, Lucy decided she doesn’t want to run track. She went on to explain that she’s not fast enough.
Well, considering she runs like Phoebe from Friends (titled “The one when Phoebe runs” 1999) and although she’s never seen me run, still is the exact replica of me running: talking while jogging. And just like me, she starts running, and looks around and tries to engage with other runners as if to say, “Hey there! You’re running and I’m running too! Isn’t this fun!? Wanna talk about your feelings!?”
I’ve solved my running/talking problem with listening to rap music in my own little magic land of ipodness. I run with angst, and I don’t bother anyone else. I don’t really think that’s the solution for Lucy. Yet. What age is appropriate to make your kid a sweet playlist of rap? I don’t know.
I gave Lucy the “I paid for it already. You had your chance to bail. You’re in this for the rest of the season” lecture. She pouted and then got over it.
After the next practice, she gave minimal griping. But then I remembered we needed to get their uniforms. Because Max kept reminding me:
“Mom, when do we get our outfits?”
“Outfits? For what?”
“For track club. Don’t we get outfits or something?”
“Oh, uniforms. They are uniforms, not outfits.”
“Well, fine. When do we get our UNIFORMS?”
Good idea, Max. The uniforms will motivate Lucy. This is what’s going to sell her on track. They get uniforms. I’m thinking a tank and shorts maybe. But no, even better. They get little windbreaker jackets and pants too. We went to pick up the uniforms, and they got little track bags too. Too cute!
Lucy decides to wear her jacket, because it’s May in Omaha, and it’s 40 degrees, after all. So, she tries it on. And I’m thinking this will be the big sell, that she’ll like track and learn to focus and strive to run faster. I’m driving home from the uniform pick up, with glee and daydreaming of her winning her first race with determination in her eyes. Standing on her podium, giving me the thumbs up and saying, “Thanks Mom for encouraging me to stick to it and….”
“Hey Mom! It’s got pockets! Cool I can put some of my Pet Shop toys in here!”
And exit daydream. Enter reality.
We get home and Max can’t wait to try on his outfit uniform which includes a true track and field tank top style. I guess he got it on and then off quickly. And instead of seeing it for myself _ in an effort to be less of a control freak _I simply asked him how it fit.
“Good. Except the shirt (the tank top) kinda shows my boobs.”
Without batting an eye, “Max, you don’t have boobs. You have a chest.”
Bet you don’t get the opportunity to explain life lessons like this in soccer. I’m just sayin.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the Day: Ya Gotta Have Pep by John Lithgow

It’s amazing that this tree and I even survived this winter.
This is one of my all_time favorite recipes. I haven’t made this in a while, but now that it’s grillin weather, the avocadoes and romain lettuce halves shall flow abundantly here! We love this one at our house! I make it too often. But I’ve given Max and Lucy the “YOU WILL EAT WHAT HAS BEEN GIVEN TO YOU” speech so much, they just go with it. Still, we all still like it.
I’ve even taken it to a cookout at JulzHOLLA’s! “You want me to GRILL lettuce?” Yes. I. Do.
And seriously, y’all, Rachael Ray is the greatest food idea engineer ever. This is her recipe. I do love me some Rachael Ray, but am NOT jive with anchovy paste. Fish paste? Ew. Still, there’s very little deviation from this recipe. So, instead of rewriting it, I’ll make my notes as we go.
Rachael Ray’s Grilled Romaine with Caesar_Cado Dressing
Taken from The Rachael Ray Show which aired Sept. 3, 2009
Ingredients
* 1 small avocado, pitted Yeah, I can’t use just one. I use 2 or three.
* Juice of 2 lemons
* 2 teaspoons anchovy paste Uh, no way. I just don’t even consider it.
* 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped or grated
* 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
* 1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese Or just Romano or Parmesan will work too
* Salt and ground black pepper
* 1/4 cup EVOO _ Extra Virgin Olive Oil, divided
* 2 large romaine hearts, split in half through the core
* Nonstick cooking spray
In the bowl of a food processor, combine the avocado, lemon juice, anchovy paste (looking away), garlic, Worcestershire, cheese, salt and lots of pepper. Pulse the machine to chop everything up then leave it on and stream about 1/4 cup EVOO into the mixture until a thick dressing forms. Reserve. I usually thin it out a bit more with extra lemon juice or EVOO
Step 2 This is the crazy fun part. Watch the look on your man’s face when you send a plate of lettuce out for him to grill.
Pat the romaine hearts dry, spray the cut sides and grill, cut side_down, until marked, about 2 minutes. Serve the grilled romaine topped with the Caesar_cado dressing.
You will wow your masses with this gig. Give it a try and let me know how you and your family liked it!
That’s how I roll.
Song of the Day: We Will Walk by Matisyahu

The other day, Ricardo and I were up at the school. Maybe I AM up there ALL THE TIME. We were waiting to watch the kids’ program. Parents were filing in. It was first thing in the morning, so we had to listen to the announcements, and then stand up and say the Pledge of Allegiance. I can’t remember the last time I said the Pledge. But in typical “I don’t wanna go to the principal’s office” I stood up, hand on heart and totally nailed the Pledge perfectly! It’s the little things folks.
So, we’re sitting down after this fun and beautiful moment of citing the Pledge of Allegiance. And he’s apparently seen a parent come in, I guess, leans over and whispers, “The only thing I request from you is that you don’t dress like an off_duty stripper when you come to school.”
“I never really considered strippers being off_duty. Is there a union for that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll Google it.”
“And it wasn’t in the vows that I not dress like that, but I suppose I can add that amendment to our marital constitution, pending this is your only request.”
“Fair enough.”
Then the show started.
Y’all don’t be jealous. You too can have this relationship.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the Day: Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros [feat. Rhymenocerous and the Hiphopopotamus] _ Flight of the Conchords

Okay, it’s already Wednesday? Whew! Ever have a day, week, month _ fine, a year _ that flies by? Well, it’s just this week for me right. But still, here’s a great mix tape. I’ll call this my favorite belt_it_out_in_the_car_but_only_if_alone_and_all_windows_rolled_up playlist.
When the Stars Go Blue _ Ryan Adams
Brass in Pocket _ The Pretenders
The Difficult Kind _ Sheryl Crow and Sarah McLachlan
Lucky One _ Allison Krauss and Union Station
Nobody Noticed It _ Lisa Marie Presley
Tell Me Bout It _ Joss Stone
I Run To You _ Lady Antebellum
Turn Me On _ Norah Jones
Silver Thunderbird _ Marc Cohn
Where is the Love? _ Black Eyed Peas
If I Had a Boat _ Lyle Lovett
Pirate Looks at Forty _ Jimmy Buffet
Bad Romance _ Lady Gaga
This sounds so fun, I think I’m just going to drive around in the car today.
That’s how I roll.

Meet the culprit. She’s the one in the group who’s a head taller. Just like me. I always wanted a horse named Taco. So, given my odds of owning a horse in the near future, I named my bike Taco. Sometimes we call her the Blue Taco for genius effect like that.
We have another triathlon coming up. If y’all are in Boone, Iowa next weekend, swing by and give us a shout out. You know it’s ridiculous weather when the local hard_core triathletes cancel the group swims because it’s too cold. I wanted to go and try out my wetsuit. I mean, really, that’s not something you want to figure out in the middle of transition one. It’d be my luck to finally get the thing off and then realize I’m commando underneath. Then I’d get disqualified, and probably arrested. So, JulzHOLLA! and I are eager to try out our wetsuits. We’re also nervous about swimming 500 yards in a lake.
Up to this point, all of our swims have been in pools where you can see the ick at the bottom, like bandaids. In a lake, you don’t have the luxury of seeing anything. We need to get in open water and practice our panic before the triathlon. But the weather is having nothing of it. So,I ‘ve been trying to work on my weakest leg of the triathlon: the tortuous bike.
I even treated myself to a new bike seat with a hole in it. It’s a seat for a hybrid, but I don’t care about adding weight to my road race bike. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to add time to my race. And if it does, it’ll be the most comfortable time, and totally worth it. So, after a lenghthy discussion with a chick at the bike store, who by the way, FINALLY a cyclist with a personality _ she even laughed at all my lady bit bike seat jokes, she assured me that no one would point and laugh at me. Atleast not because of the bike seat. The seat is more cushion, adding more height, inevitably allowing full extension of my pedal stroke. Whatever that means. I’ll skip the details, but the seat with the hole in it has accomplished it’s purpose.
JulzHOLLA! and I went for a quick ride yesterday. Mostly because I need to and I have this weird feeling that I shouldn’t bike alone. I now know why.
On my way to get JulzHOLLA! I was going down hill and approaching an intersection that _ well, I’m just guessing _ I should stop at. To stop you have to clip your shoes out. Because you’re attached to your bike. It’s not a practice I’m good with, nor find necessary, but you have to do it. It’s called clipping out. Or if you’re getting your shoes clipped in to the pedals, that’s called clipping in. Stay with me, these terms will come in handy in just a second.
I went to clip out, and nothing happened. And I thought, “Hmm, I should probably practice clipping out before I’m going down hill about to barrell through an intersection.” And then I clipped out and all was fine. I picked up JulzHOLLA! And as soon as we got to the bike path it started spitting rain at us. But we’re so tough we thought we’d go just one lap and then come back. We do, and it was a good ride. Good hills. We go to exit the park, and it’s a fairly busy street to cross. We have to stop and wait for the coast to be clear.
I clip the right foot out thinking I just need one foot to put down to stop. And you do. However, I leaned to the left instead of the right. And TIMBERRRRRR! Kerplop. If y’all thought there was an earthquake in the Midwest region of the United States, nope, that was just my ass hitting the pavement. In front of all traffic in West Omaha to see. If you saw it, that was me. I’m fine.
JulzHOLLA! is so sweet, she made sure I was okay and didn’t even laugh. Something similar happened to her, and I’m pretty sure I laughed. But she’s too nice and ridiculously mature. That, and she knows that this falling while clipped in business is some rite of passage in the Tri world. So, she knew Karma would come nip me in my butt….the left side. And it did.
We made it home, and I told the kids and Ricardo about my little spill and how I got back up, but I’d probably have a pretty cool bruise.
So, that night, I was reading in my office _ the bathtub, when Lucy came in. Lucy likes to talk to me while I’m in the bathtub. Perhaps it’s because I’m her captive listener there. I don’t know. But I remember doing the same thing with my sister. We always had our best childhood chats while one of us was taking a bath. Is that weird? I dunno. Still, Lucy came in to chat. I was almost done, and stood up to get out of the bathtub and saw my bruise.
“Hey! Check out my bruise!” I say. She checks it out but isn’t impressed. It’s not a giant blob bruise. It’s this weird line. Kind of like a fault line on Google Earth. Still, she’s not impressed. Maybe she’s a little shocked at the location. So I lighten up the shock and eye blinding with, “It’s on my BUTTCHEEK!” Because they love the word buttcheek right now.
Then I panic and remind her, “But at school you don’t say buttcheek, right? You could say lower hip, or rump, or tush. Right?”
And Lucy says, “I’d call it the hill on the mountain.”
Nice. I don’t know if she meant that to be cruel, interpretive of my already lumpy butt, or a simply reality. Either way, we both laughed hysterically.
My hill on the mountain is healing just fine now. I’m pretty proud of it now.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the day: Moneymaker _ Ludacris

It’s fun Friday at our house today. So, here’s our breakfast. I know….we’re OVERFUN, right?
Tonight, we’re having what we refer to as Spaghetti Sammiches. “WHAT!?” You say, “You were all high and mighty with your clean eating and we’ve all been waiting, hoping for you to grace us with another clean recipe. And you’re sandwiching a carb with a carb!?”
And to you, I say, “Yes. I. Am.”
Consider this a flexible falling off the clean eating wagon. Although, I’ve cleaned this recipe up as much as I can and the kids and Ricardo have no idea.
Have you ever wondered why they serve bread at most Italian restaurants when you’re getting pasta? No? Just me? Well, we’ve added function to form. Should we ever open a restaurant, this will be our signature dish.
Since I’m a total amateur. And since this blog is how I roll, you’re getting this recipe Leslie_fied. This is how I’d tell my friends (Y’all) how to do it. I don’t mess with a list of ingredients because that’s a waste of white space, and really, you should always read a recipe all the way through before you start. So, here you go:

Friday Night Spaghetti Sammiches at Momontherocks House:
This recipe is fairly simple, so go with measurements as you deem fit. If you’re feeding 4 or 14, I dunno. Just effn go with it.
Boil 100% Whole Wheat Spaghetti per the directions on the back of the box. Brown up some ground turkey breast _We use it in an effort to fight them cholesterol bastards. And really, the kids have no clue. Do yourself and your butt and your cholesterol a favor and try it. And yes, it’s more expensive, but consider your co_pay and your potential prescription for Zetia. Just try it, for Pete’s sake. Okay, so brown up your ground turkey breast, and throw in a dash of cumin for that smokey meat taste. Just a little bit. Like a 1/2 teaspoon per pound of ground turkey meat. Grab a jar of spaghetti sauce and pour it in a large sauce pan. And yes, we use the organic, no sugar added, as_clean_as_we_can_get_it jar of spaghetti sauce. As clean as we can without actually having to make it ourselves. It’s Friday and I have very important entertaining to do. I don’t have time to make it homemade tonight. Drain your ground turkey breast and mix it into the sauce. After your spaghetti is finished cooking, drain it and throw it in a big ol serving bowl. Keep your sauce on warm til you’re ready to serve it up.
Here’s the sammich part. It’s going to blow your mind. It’s so technical. Get some 100% whole wheat bread. Or if you’re feeling super clean, some Ezekiel bread. We usually do a piece of bread per person. Ahem, sometimes two pieces for the grown ups, because uh…we’re bigger…and all. Throw the bread slices on a cooking sheet. And slab each piece with some butter. Sprinkle garlic salt over that. And then…y’all ready? Get your colby_jack bag of grated greatness out and throw down a layer on the bread. Throw that goodness in the oven about 400 degrees till the cheese melts.
“That’s cheesy garlic bread, Leslie, what’s the big woop?”
Well, fancy pants, the big woop happens on the plate you nay_sayer.
So, throw the spaghetti sauce over the spaghetti in the bowl. Get your cheesy garlic bread on a plate. Yell at your kids to turn the damned tv off and wash their hands that dinner’s ready and they better appreciate it, dangit.
Okay, if you haven’t figured this very technical plan out yet, here you go. Hold a piece of the cheesy garlic bread like a taco shell, serve spaghetti in to the garlic bread. Eat quickly. It’s a big mess. Max and Lucy suggest that the messier, the better.
I usually make my kids eat serve green beans and a salad with it.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the day: The Nearness of You _ Norah Jones

I try to make my pals a good mix tape for their kids. Usually the criteria is fun, cool, not Disney or Barney, inspiring and/or silly. So, here’s my pick for today. These are some of my and the kids favorites:
My Favorite Things _ Nathan on the For the Kids Too! Album
Wild Child _ Enya
Reggatta de Blanc _ The Police
Only You _ John Lennon
Blackbird _ Sarah McLachlan
Once Upon A Time…Storybook Love _ Princess Bride Soundtrack
Unwritten _ Natasha Beddingfield
Jai Ho _ A.R. Rahman
The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Wimoweh) _ The Tokens
C is for Conifers _ They Might Be Giants
A Thousand Miles _ Vanessa Carlton
Put Your Records On _ Corrine Bailey Rae
The Middle _ Jimmy Eat World
Where is The Love? _ Black Eyed Peas
What a Wonderful World _ Louis Armstrong
There’s more. Lots more. But that’s how we roll today.

This is my happy relaxing place. There’s no stones. No ponds. And my eyeballs are right where they need to be. I’m just sayin.
Remember when you got a sub in school? Everyone usually enjoyed the break in the monotony of class. Well, I was at the gym the other day, and I’m on a complete schedule. I even have JulzHOLLA! going in on my demands.
Monday: Run and Yoga
Tuesday: Really cool swim class and then swim laps
Wednesday: Spin Class
Thursday: Run & Lift
Friday: Swim
Weekends: Free for all with whatever fits in our family’s schedules.
It’s a good schedule allowing for atleast one day off with our crazy schedules. But the one day I try not to miss is Run and Yoga day. I like the yoga instructor. She’s real, helpful, and makes yoga a complete weight_bearing workout. She’s not all crazy granola_chick with her shakras and all that. She is the perfect yoga class. I heart her. I rely on her class and her greatness.
So it’s Monday and JulzHOLLA! and I finish our run, and head to yoga. What? Where is our instructor? A SUBSTITUTE! Dang. Who? Oh God. It’s the woman who wants to save me. I resist, and consider bailing on this half of the workout, or maybe Zumba , or swimming with sharks instead of an hour with this class.
I give JulzHOLLA! the look, like, “I really don’t want to be here. Please don’t make me do this.” And I’m just about to start stomping my feet and shouting, “I DON’T WANNA! I DON’T WANNA! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” But I’m trying to be a good workout partner and we need to do yoga, or something. When one of the voices in my head suggests that I shouldn’t make such harsh judgments and maybe I should keep an open mind and try it.
So, I give in and we go in and set up our yoga mats. I’m feeling all better about myself and my willingness to not hold a grudge. And then the aforementioned sub walked in and started talking. And all that good feeling got really weird.
I’ll never listen to THAT voice in my head again. I mean, I was trying to be less of an asshole. But I think it’s only affirmed my original judgments. In the middle of a downward dog, I get JulzHOLLA’S attention and mouth, “I hate you.” Not nice, but I think effective. She won’t persuade me on this one again. She’s very influential on me. But I think I’m right on this one. Don’t believe me? Well, I wrote down some of the stuff she said. I would also like to suggest what I’m about to say is what my momma says is the pot calling the kettle black. But the sub did not stop talking the entire time. Weird coming from me, I know. But also weird since she lectured me in a previous class for talking to much. And yes, I realize she’s the instructor. But I got 55 minutes of yoga and phrases like, “Pubic Synthesis” or something about a position of a sacrum and then, “Yes! Yes! Yes, That’s it!” I’m not even making this up. And then, “Don’t assume I’m crazy. Teach your muscles to talk to each other.”
My personal favorite was at the end of my RELAXATION yo. I’m in my favorite pose: corpse pose. And I get incessant talking that is supposed to lead me into some peace or something. A meditative and contemplative state, right? I’m not even making this up: “Imagine your eyeballs are soft polished stones that you drop into the back of your head and they fall into a shallow pond.” What? “And the drop into the back of your skull, see the rings of water they create.” I blocked out the rest of it by screaming expletives to the voice in my head that told me to come to this class.
I realize I have very specific preferences for the classes I choose to attend and the instructors. And I’m sure, some people prefer yoga with over zealous references to their sacrums. It’s just not for me.
I should have stuck with my assholeness and judgments. Lesson learned.
That’s how I roll.
Song of the day: Mahna Mahna by Cake