Month: December 2012

New Blog Time!!!!

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That’s right ladies and gentlemen!

…ok, Orchid.

We’re moving! Every VanGogh must go!

It’s time to expand and share with my Facebook peeps the flavor of my writing flair (oh jeez). But I can’t do it with this blog. Adventures In Strangeland has always been TMI inspired.

Since I’ve given up cock (indefinitely), yoga has once again become the center of my attentions.  Hey, I’m just taking a break, so to speak.  Seeing what else is around the corner.

Since I’m finally going to start my Yoga Teacher’s Training by mid-2013, then why not create an entire blog about my journey? I’ve chose three names for my new erudite disaster, but I want your opinion.

1) Cobra and the Moon (symbolic and not necessarily just about yoga)

2) Ouroboros Yoga (very serious, but my favorite in symbolism. However it may sound a bit too… too… pretentious)

3) Adventures On the Mat (the most innocuous of the three. Relatable?)

So whatta ya think?

**Btw, third blog entry for this week. Winning!

***Update:  Changed my mind, I like it better here. I’m sticking to Strangeland and that’s that!

Married Life (Part 2)

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Gina & Dave

Ahhhh… isn’t it nice when on any Saturday afternoon in Southern California you can get your hair done before going out to dinner with your best gays. All the while your adoring husband blows you a kiss through your kitchen window right before he goes off to his  garage makeshift guitar workshop?  Wanna know their secret?

Come close.

No closer.

THEY HAVE NO FUCKING KIDS!!!! 

Food for thought…

When I Grow Up I Wanna Be…

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… just like Maria Villella!

In fact the plan is to start taking her Mysore class by tomorrow morning, and not allow my intimidation to overtake my inspiration.

So a year ago I took my first led Ashtanga class, and after two hours of what I thought was an experiment in being punk’d, my exhausted, sweaty, dejected self hung her head and went home. I closed my bedroom curtains, went under the covers without bothering to disrobe or clean up, and proceeded to start crying for no one else but my fragile little ego.
I had been bested.
I, the great yogini herself, an epic fail! (Hey, what the fuck did I now?)

A year and countless requests from my teacher to join them for another try, I finally did.
This time around it wasn’t so bad. I held my own a bit better and saw that maybe I could survive such trials by fire.
That’s until a week ago…

Thanks to YouTube and my insomnia, I saw the light at 2:48am last Tuesday morning.

This “epiphany” came to me through an old 1989 video of Sri Pattabhi Jois (the big daddy of Ashtanga) leading a workshop of a who’s who in the yoga world.  It was one of the fiercest show of grace under pressure I have EVER seen. Now all I want to do is become the most proficient of Ashtangi and meet Chuck Miller!
Talk about pulling a 180, talk about a change of heart!

Maria Villella is an inspiration and part of of my journey. At least I hope so. With my luck, we’ll probably completely hate one another from day one and I’ll quit and go home for another good cry. Then again my ego has agreed to temporarily take a back seat on this one. Let’s just hope it keeps its seatbelt on and its mouth shut through this adventure for once…

“Let Food Be Thy Medicine” — Hippocrates (Badass Quote Of The Week)

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This week’s BQOTW comes with a video.  Technically, a documentary.

For some time now I’ve been toying with the notion that if I wanted my yoga practice to skyrocket and expand, it might behoove me to lose “the gut”.  Some of this belly I’m referring to is composed of a fibroid cyst which initially was the size of a grapefruit.  A few years later it became the shape of two plums, and two years ago it metamorphisized (hey, it’s a word now…) to the size of a melon.  Any more snarky citrus references from my doctor and I was going to hit him over his bald pate with a fruit basket goddammit!

Along with my need to further my practice, my new 9to5 gig has been a helluva an eye opener on the comings and goings of modern unhealthy office life.  Fill the place with counselors who eat/bake their feelings as well as the holidays looming above us like an ominous mushroom cloud,  and you might as well be sitting on a barrel of unstable TNT while holding a lit match.

“Simply Raw” is a profound glimpse in what the future of our relationship with food should look like.  Ironically, it’s a reclaiming of the way man/woman used to eat and a subsequent return to a natural healthy balance. Healing ourselves from within is not a best kept secret, and it’s nothing new. We’ve just conveniently forgotten, and  illnesses such as diabetes are our greatest reminders.  We should thank them for the “head’s up” and send them on their merry way by keeping it simple and keeping it raw.

Look, if you’ve got a better idea, take me to task and show me a the alternative. But in the meantime shut up and eat your veggies kid!

Married Life (Part 1)

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The Svendsens. Married since July 6, 2012

Nothing says “I love our time together” more like a man watching the ESPN’s Heisman Trophy Award Dinner while his lovely wife sits by him waiting for her overdue highlights to process.

Hey, it’s Saturday night. Let’s break out the string cheese, and wash it down with some Crown Royal/Coke Zero mixer all night long!   Good ol’ fashioned American fun I say.

Today we’re adding a new kind of entry to the fekakta which is this blog.
I wouldn’t mind being married at least once in my life, but truth be told, I revel in my bachelorhood status.  And no, I will not babysit for you. You’ve had your fun “making” them, now live with the consequences of your choices pal!

Therefore I leave it to these courageous folks to test out in what is in my personal  opinion a rather outdated institution  albeit much coveted, and  teach me what true love really means! HA!

R.I.P. My Sex Life

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Today I deleted my profile on Ok Cupid. I’m officially on the wagon, and suffering from withdrawal symptoms.
Part of me wonders if anyone there is missing me yet. I feel like I’ve walked out of dating hell, and now I’m on a long journey into the unknown.
I can’t tell which feels worse really…