World, stop taking selfies while driving

OK, I admit, I do it too. But we gotta stop.  One of us is going to get ourselves or somebody else killed. So, world, let's stop taking selfies and driving.  While we're at it, let's stop touching our phones altogether while we're driving.  Brains weren't meant to operate large machinery in lines of other brains operating large machinery whilst dividing their attentions between that and a small electronic device.

Why is Everyone Trying to Sell Me Stuff?

Every time I look on Facebook (which I shouldn't do anyway because Facebook is the devil but I can't seem to stop) another person is advertising another thing that they are selling privately as their new amazing career.  Deals, kickbacks, job flexibility! Somehow everyone is making billions of dollars off this stuff without having to work at all.  Long gone are the days of Mary Kay and Tupperware parties, now you can pretty much get anything you want from these "independent sales representatives" who are your "friends" on Facebook: skincare, vitamins, jewelry, clothing, even sex toys!  I might be crazy, but I don't trust any of it. Not one bit. They all seem like a bunch of pyramid schemes to me.  And the scariest thing is that these aren't just random people trying to sell me this stuff. These are normal people, dare I say "friends", who I thought wouldn't ever be the type to get themselves wrapped up in some kind of pyramid scheme/weird business venture. But, who am I to judge? Maybe they really are making money, maybe the stuff is legit, maybe I need to get in on it myself...

A Pet Peeve

If you're dirty, it means you need a bth

I don't understand why people think that they need to be flexible in order to practice yoga. A yoga practice is just that, practice. Just as you practice anything, you do it in order to get better at it. As a musician would practice his or her instrument, a yogi practices his or her yoga.

Additionally, with yoga the goal isn't to get better at doing certain postures but rather to get better at achieving flexibility, awareness, and stillness of the mind. So if you say "I don't do yoga because I'm not flexible", it means you need to do more yoga. The cause is the cure.

On the Apple Watch

I'm extremely creeped out by the Apple watch. I can't quite say why except that it just seems wrong that you could have it on you all the time or that it could have you all the time (No pun intended). It's just too much for me. I don't want to constantly have acces to everything on my wrist at all times (I did it again). 

Anywho, that's my thought on it. But, who knows...maybe people were extremely creeped out by the iPhone when it first came out.

The Power of Sandwich

A sandwich may not be able to pay a parking ticket for you, nor could you pay a parking ticket in sandwiches. However, a sandwich can soothe the rage felt toward parking officials who unfairly site you when you LITERALLY JUST RAN IN FOR A SECOND!

Leggings..

are not
could be pants.

There was a time in my life not too long ago during which I had a firm stance on the whole "leggings are not pants" issue.  I had seen just about one too many young girls flashing their undies through a poor quality see-through legging a la exhibit A.

I can't believe I am about to say this (perhaps it is the fact that I am a yoga teacher, or maybe just because I always want to be comfy this climate) but I've changed my opinion on this topic.  Drumroll please...

Leggings can sometimes be pants. But only when adhering to this set of rules:

1) Said leggings must be of the thick material variety.
2) Wearer of said leggings must wear a shirt, sweater, or jacket that at least covers 1/2 or more of the wearer's bum.
3) Said leggings must be part of an ensemble conveying a message such as, but not limited to,  "I am going to yoga", "I am going on a run", "I woke up like this", "I stayed up all night studying",  or "I work at a leggings store".

See exhibit B

exhibit B

And there you have it folks, the new stance on leggings as pants. Have a field day!

She. She is Mariah.

There are few musical artists whom I can say that I would buy their new album without hesitation. No listen, no research, just a blind buy. There's maybe 10-20 bands/musical artists for which this is the case. Mariah Carey is not one of them.

I have loved Mariah Carey since I first heard "Vision of Love" in my living room while cleaning with my mom in 1990. Even at the age of 8, I knew soul when I heard it. Since bursting into the scene in 1990, Mariah produced several amazing albums. Thirteen albums, I belive, with unforgettable, chart-topping classics such as "Fantasy", Dreamlover", "Honey", and "All I Want for Christmas is You". 

But somewhere around the end of the millinium, it seemed as though Mariah lost her way. Her voice reduced to a raspy whisper, her ego palpable in her songs, and her soul seemingly traded in for shallowness.  Around this time, I also was learning about indie rock. Listening to bands like Built to Spill and Modest Mouse, I left Mariah in the dust claiming she had "sold out". Maybe she did. Maybe she was dealing with the hardship of becoming an aging diva. It must be tough when your main pop diva rival is Beyoncé. I might get a little desperate myself, if I had to compete with that.

What I am here to tell you today is that she's back. This week she released her 13th album Me. I am Mariah...The Elusive Chanteuse. Don't ask me what an "elusive chanteuse" is, because I don't know. But what I do know is that this album is bumpin'. She's got guest appearances from Nas, Mary j. Blige,  Miguel, Wale, and what would any Mariah album be with a guest spot from Jermain Dupree.  She's 15/15 good songs! That's pretty amazing. These songs take me back to her soul from the 90s, while still managing to have a modern and R&B forward flavor. 

This new album is a must listen for all, especially if you're a recovering jaded Mariah fan. She will most likely croon her way back into your heart, maybe even onto your list of "artists whose albums I would buy with out hesitation". 

Awakening

How can you buck the system if you are "the man"?

Today I got to thinking about the world and how I want to be a part of it.  I'm not exactly sure of the answer to that question in total yet.  But what I do know is that I don't want to be "normal".  I don't want to go with the grain. I don't want to be a rule follower.  And, I most definitely do not want to be "the man".

I know, I know...systems and rules are put into place to organize people and  minimize chaos.  Well, I'm all for that.  I don't want people running around killing each other and rioting in the streets.  But I also don't want to be a drone. An empty void of a person passing the time by satiating with a myriad of worldly addictions.

You might be thinking...

How did you start thinking about this?
Are you some kind of an anarchist criminal?
What's wrong with you?

Well, I'll tell you.  It all started on my run yesterday.  I was running and feeling truly satisfied.  And wondering why it was hard for people to find satisfaction. The Stones had it right when they said "I can't get no Satisfaction".   I was thinking about satisfaction and how people (myself included) are so numb to being able to tell whether or not they are actually satisfied.  Why can't we get no?

 I think most of us are this way because society is set in a way in which humans are bombarded with distractions.  We have to distract ourselves from the banality.  This is how we become addicted.  Addicted to food.  Addicted to drugs and alcohol.  Addicted to sex.  Addicted to television.  Addicted to shopping. Addicted to exercise.  Addicted to surrounding yourself with people.  These addictions provide temporary satisfaction which we highly evolved 21st century beings have confused for real happiness, or santosha, contentment, if you will.  Our confusion and displacement of contentment allows us to float along through life, through the systems which were set up to contain us, unaware of our own oblivion.

I don't want to be a slave to the distractions anymore.

I hear people around me saying things like "We're all just finding ways to pass the time".  And maybe that is true.  Maybe we all need to find a delicate balance between our spiritual fulfillment/pursuit of contentment and our worldly distractions because we are only human.  And what about things like art, music and literature?  Couldn't these things be considered "distractions".  I don't know the answer.  But I do know that I can't ever hope to find my way to the surface for a breath of fresh air and reality if I continue to be "the man" participating in a system that condones the exertion of some kind of power over others. A system that is based upon power imbalances, control, and oppression is a system that breeds tendency towards a need for diversion and beguilement.

I want to be awake.

A Solution to the Problem

Dear Famous People and Millionaires of the United States of America,

How about instead of spending your money on fancy dinners, jewelry, cars, vacations, couture clothing, and other crap, you give a little money to education? Just a little. Let's say you make 20,000,000 for your next movie. Why not give NC 1,000,000? Think of what we could could accomplish!

I'm very afraid right now of all the kids who are receiving sub-par educations due to the lack of funding. They will be running the world in 20 years and then you will not be able to make movies, buy designer fashion, invent new technology or even get the surgery that you will need to remove your head from your ass because the population will be too stupid. How are we to yield productive citizens who are capable of such things without the means to do it?

If everyone who was making way too much money just suffered enough to live a regular middle class life-style and gave a little cash in exchange for an educated youth, our country would be in much better shape right now. Just think, if you could model intelligent spending and generosity of self you'd be a true role model.

Sincerely,

Me and my gigantic soapbox

Detrimental Miscommunications

Miscommunications that can be detrimental should be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately, in life there are many opportunities for such miscommunications. How are we to avoid confusion when everyone is different and has a different schema: a different understanding of what is what? It's enough to make you want to not even communicate at all.

So much for clarity of thought and precision with language!

The Things They Put Into Our Heads

I wonder if worrying is an innate biological process meant to somehow evolutionarily protect us from larger predators; if those who worry somehow protect themselves and survive the natural selection process?
OR
is worrying something that is passed down, embedded in us by our families and the social constructs within which we live?

I got to thinking about this yesterday on my run to the top of Occoneechee Mountain in Hillsborough. Parts of this run are fairly remote and at times have prompted me to worry about my safety from rapists, serial killers, AWOL rednecks, and the like. But why? Why do I fear these things? I believe it is due to years of 1) socialization from the fear driven media- news, lifetime movies, crime obsessed TV shows and 2) being taught that because I am a girl I am somehow at more of a risk. This may be true, but why instill a worry into all women because of it?

As I began to ascend the mountain, I looked ahead and saw three large men. My heart began to race, and thoughts of the many horrific things that they would do to me prior to disposing of my body began to fill my mind. As I got closer, the men began to appear harmless: three young chaps sharing in friendship atop the mountain over an herbal cigarette, perhaps. Ah Ha! No use in worrying.

I came to the conclusion that worrying about these things has no effect on the actual situation. Some could argue that worrying makes you more aware of a potentially dangerous situation, providing you increased chances of escaping. This may be true, but I would argue that if something horrible is meant to happen to me then it will happen either way, and having worrisome day dreams during my run is in no way protecting me but making me crazy, rather.

When I reached the top of the mountain, I deduced that, yes, the aforementioned "sketchy" men were indeed sharing in some fellowship atop the mountain. Then, I noticed something. The truly worrisome thing. These were bad men! The summit was a gruesome crime scene littered with the remains of their victims: fast food trash. Disembowled fry boxes, fully drained 40 oz. sodas, and cheeseburger corpses.

Rapists indeed! Raping the environment.

On Reading...

What is it so hard to get kids to enjoy reading? Why do so many adults still hate reading because it was forced upon them during their school years? Is it our fast paced, technology addicted society that forces us to boredom if we can't drive, text, listen to music, play video games, and read the news all at the same time?

There must still be value in reading a book right?

I know it took me years and years to appreciate reading. There was nothing anyone could do to force it upon me. Truly, it took me reaching a certain level of maturity and the right book to get me on the reading train. When I think about this, it makes me cringe to think that I have to try to inspire kids to want to read, when I know it may take many of them a decade or more to realize it for themselves.

I suppose all I can do is express my love for reading and story, in hopes that they will get some of it through osmosis.

And, maybe show them some cartoon super hero reading posters?

Airports are weird

It always baffles me that you can exist in this strange in between place where you are neither here nor there. It is only how I would imagine it to be if humanity were to relocate on Mars and live inside of an oxygenated bubble thing that resembled a super sized mall.
Whenever I enter the airport, I am instantly overwhelmed with a sense of craziness, that can only be reined in by going to a place inside myself where I am not actively participating in the ongoing events, but watching, from box seats in my frontal lobe.
You can be certain that you are on the ground. But where are you? Something is not right here. Normal rules do not apply: you must put your toiletries in tiny bottles, pour out your water, pull around your rolly bag as if it were a dog on a leash, and stuff your belongings in and around your person so as to not appear to have too much stuff. But they do have beer. Unfortunately, it does cost 10$, and is served to you by aliens who, by the way, do have to clear security before going to work. Airports are weird.

altruism?

I have a question: Is true altruism real, or even possible?

I would like to think yes...but I think that I think no.

Here's why:

I think that too many people act for the benefit of themselves. And those who say they are acting for the benefit of helping others usually are, but only to receive the recognition of having done something kind. I wonder, like really wonder, that if nobody was watching and no one knew the kind acts that people do, if people would stop doing them all together because they weren't being rewarded in some way for the kind act. Unless that reward came to the person from his or herself and said person could get joy solely from the act of helping, but then: Is the person doing the act only to feel the self produced joy? OR...is it altruism?

Like I said, I want to believe that it's real...but I just don't know.

sad rant...

Often times, I like to contemplate ways in which I could acquire more money: write my own curriculum, publish a book of graphic organizers for ESL students, sell tuperware or sex toys at people's houses, or maybe start my own personal escort service for rich politicians.

But, alas, all of these things would require the expenditure of more time and energy and work in some fashion. I just want to get paid well for the work that I do. I want to feel that I am fairly compensated for all of my time and effort. Why can't a teacher in this country with a college education and a master's degree make enough money to not be contemplating prostitution by the 14th of the month? I mean, it's no wonder there are so many shitty teachers out there- we are not respected as professionals and are not compensated as such.

And, now, I complete my rant.

EO-pee

Before we begin, you must clear your desk of all materials except two No. 2 pencils. Please check to be sure that your pencils are No. 2 and are sharpened. If your pencils are not No. 2, please raise your hand and I will provide them for you.

Can you feel the crazy?

Let me just soap box for a minute about the garbage that is the End Of Grade standardized test.

Why oh why must all children be held to the same standards? Why should a child who doesn't know what a book is be expected to take the same test as a child who was read "Good Night Moon" in the womb? And why is it surprising when children from backgrounds other than white middle class do not perform on the test that was written by and for the white middle class? And, if I know that the tests are not a valid measure of intelligence or human worth why do I even care?

Make your marks heavy and dark. Please make sure that the number of the question you are bubbling on your answer sheet matches the question number in your test booklet...

2012ing

Much like how "google" became its own verb, Bekah and I have have now created a new word out of our obsession with 2012. Not the movie, but the idea of the world ending as we know it.

To "2012" is to catastrophically explode, fly off of a car, run over something, or something else really horrible that might happen in 2012.

Some sentences with the use of the word in context:

• Woah...I really hope that the Charleston bridge doesn't 2012 while we're driving over it.
• Damn, that slide sure is precariously tied to the back of that truck; I hope it doesn't 2012 off the back and decapitate me after it crashes through my windshield.
• Have a good flight home; don't 2012!

But, seriously...2012!!!!

Pangaea

It's really weird to think that millions of years ago, all the continents were connected into one mega super continent. Dinosaurs roamed the Earth. Crazy. Then, it makes me wonder if in a million more years, people will think back and say "Woah, its really weird that a million years ago there was only 7 continents. And, these strange people things drove cars around and ate these things called cheeseburgers"!

Even crazier: civilization as we know it is just a tiny little blip in the history of the Earth. And if Earth continues to exist for the rest of time, the size of our blip will continue to decrease until we are nothing but a fraction of a blip. Thus, as time and civilization furthers we are projected into a state of pure insignificance.

But, then I'm brought to the thought that we couldn't be totally insignificant. Especially if you subscribe to the idea that everything is a sum of the things that have happened before it. Like, if you go back in time and kill a fly- the whole world would be changed.

Pangaea. Shit.

On fighting

Why do we fight with people? It always ends up bad, and someone always feels stupid or sad or unappeased or something else. In some strange way fighting seems like its supposed to be cathartic, but what does fighting really do to the relationship between you and the other person*. Like, can a relationship only stand so many fights before its rotten? OR, as so many believe, does fighting mean that you care and ultimately bring the two parties together? OR, is it different for different people? And, why?

Sometimes, it seems like things would be much easier if we could tap into the animalistic sides of ourselves and just go at it!

Also, our styles of fighting are different depending upon with whom we are fighting. Is this because certain relationships have more at stake? If I scream really loud, does that mean that I care more? If I try to stay calm, do I care less?

And, why is it so damn hard to say "I'm sorry"? "I'm sorry" is the magic pill for ending a conflict. But, alas, saying sorry means being wrong or putting yourself in the vulnerable position. But, hey....who cares? Even if you don't mean it, say it.

*The other person in this case isn't anyone in particular, I'm just waxing...

boo hoo

I hate running on the treadmill. I have to though because of my abnormally severe spring allergies which turn me into an evil Cruella Deville of all things nature during the months of April and May.

I also am frustrated by the fact that I cannot physically, nor mentally, manage to run more that 5 or 6 miles on the treadmill. I feel trapped. I feel deranged. I feel ridiculously privaledged in some way, that my life affords me time and resources to literally run in place for no particular reason other than my own need to feel accomplished in some way.

I know, I know...cry me a river.