Just do it #8: Try Bikram Yoga (or "Feeling hot, hot, hot!")

In October, I claimed that due to gorging on too much Halloween candy, I was going to finally try Bikram yoga. It's January. Don't judge.

For those of you who haven't heard of Bikram yoga, let me fill you in...

1. The studio is heated to 105 degrees,
causing the sweatiest, frizziest
bad hair day I've ever had

2. 26 poses, each done twice, with small exercise in between
(#18 almost killed me)

image from here

3. Trendy celebrities love it
image from here

Today, was National Yoga Day (yes, it's a thing) and my friend Mali, her work friend Kristen, and I decided that with free Bikram classes being offered, it was now or never. After much stressing out about what we should wear in the scorching room (Our birthday suits?? G-strings??), what to eat (Nothing to avoid vomiting? A Valium?), and what would we do in case of emergency (Will you drag me out?! Do you know CPR?!), we finally calmed down enough to drive to the studio together.

Our hysteria subsided once we started the class with a deep breathing exercise. Relaxing... Then, we started the first sets of stretches. I felt powerful and limber. This wasn't bad at all! Once we got to pose #12, however, I noticed my knee was shaking and could barely see because sweat kept pouring in my eyes.

Things began to unravel once the class started doing the floor exercise (#16 and up). All of the side effects the instructors had mentioned that newbies might have (nausea, dizziness, wanting to sob in fetal position but alas no tears due to dehydration) started to happen. Also, the room was saturated with a sour smell of b.o. that was almost suffocating. But somehow we made it through without fainting, throwing up, or swearing at the sweet instructor who made us work like we were in boot camp, calling out instructions in her soothing, melted ice cream voice. (When she calmly crooned out, "We're almost done" for the fourth time, I almost screamed...)

Afterwards, we celebrated with smoothies, probably consuming all the calories that we had just burned. Again, don't judge.

Verdict: Just do it #8 was a success!

In summary, I leave you with this really bad poem...

I tried Bikram yoga
for the first time, you see
with hopes of toned abs
like Jenny McCarthy
I had to sign a waiver,
in case of heat stroke
26 poses in a sauna
that's intense, no joke
Sweat, nausea, dizziness
though at the end I felt revived
but more than anything else
I'm glad I survived!

For my Just do it #9, I plan on something a lot less sweaty. I'm thinking of a "you've got mail" theme, but will have to mull over what I want to do... stay tuned!

Smelly

There's a smell living in my house, and her name is Sasha.

People say bad things come in three's, and now I'm a believer (although these events are more annoying than they are terrible). Here's what's been going on in our household this past week:

1. Dan's bout of pneumonia

2. Leak in laundry room= water everywhere= $350 repair

3. Assaulting smell in guest room,
kind of like a rotten fish
in a port-a-potty
on Planet Revolting

Did I mention that our house is on the market? Yes, it's been an oh-so-fun week here at Casa Christen and Dan.

I have no idea what is causing said smell, even though I'm determined to find out. Sherlock Holmes' hound has nothing on me. I sniffed every inch of the guest room walls, trying to decipher where the smell was worst. Gag. I checked out all the other upstairs rooms. No smell at all. I asked the plumber who came to our house if it was related to our water leak, perhaps sewer backing up. No. I scoured our attic over the guest room with Dan. We both had on oven mitts and carried sticks to poke at boxes, dreading that we would find some kind of decaying mouse somewhere up there. No smell whatsoever in the attic. We lugged everything out of the guest room, swiffered the floor, scrubbed down all surfaces. Still smelly smell smell. Shiiit.

Who you gonna call (when something is probably in the wall)? I'm not sure, but I'm going to try to get someone for reinforcements this weekend. If you've had an issue like this, feel free to give me advice. (If you are someone who is in the market to buy a house, then I'm just kidding! The guest room really smells like honeysuckle and cinnamon and baby powder and your grandma's cookies...)

So one might ask, why did I name the smell "Sasha"? Well, I must have seen some action movie with a character named Sasha in the past because the name conjures up a sneaky little minx of a Russian spy. Sasha comes and goes like a ninja. She's the worst in the mornings, and then non-existent at other times of the days. And I just can't find her. It was either going to be "Sasha" or "Carmen Sandiego". Where in the world is she??

Dan then made the point that Beyonce's alter-ego is named Sasha Fierce. I figured if Beyonce can give her stage persona a moniker, the smell in my guest room can have one too.

Especially since it stinks something fierce.

Sick

Get ready to do some math.

What does...

Six doses of antibiotics
+
Five days of facial hair growth
+
Four bottles of ginger ale
+
Three x-rays
+
Two trips to Patient First

equal?

One very cranky husband.

Dan has pneumonia. He's been laying in bed for hacking up his lungs and shivering from chills, all but wailing for his mother. During the first two days, I played Florence Nightingale with Mother Teresa's patience: fluffing pillows, making Blockbuster runs, refilling ginger ale cups, giving him control of the remote.

We're on day seven, folks.

Going back to school last week was the longest five days ever. With a few high-maintenance students and the parents that enable them vying for every last second of my time, I came home wanting to lay on my spot on the couch and veg. Instead, I was still on call for drink refills, medicine runs, back rubs, and sympathy. I can't tell you how many times Dan wheedled, "Hey, hon, could you..." followed by a fit of raspy coughing nasty enough to make me put down my slice of cheese pizza.

I think Dan enjoys all the coddling, to the point where he's tested my goodwill. I put my foot down when he tried to hint that nookie would make him feel better. Hacking up phlegm constantly? Not sexy.

Tomorrow: Day Eight.

Man, I need a sick day.

Update: Dan's feeling much better now. I wrote this post about two days ago, felt too sorry for him to post it, and decided to wait until he was back to work. Nothing like a blog to finally be able to vent! :) Yay for him feeling better!

Resolution list

Five

Four

Three

Two

One..

Image from here.

Happy (Belated) New Year!
Whoop! Whoop!

Everyone knows that New Year's is "amateur night", so Dan and I decided to stay away from the dangerous roads and sleazy clubs. Instead, we rang in the new year with champagne, hor d'oeuvres, and board games with a group of friends. In my mind, life doesn't get much better than a round of Taboo with some of my favorite people:











I know this post about 2010 is coming a bit late, but I couldn't decide on my list of resolutions. For someone who has a blog called "La Vida Lista", it may surprise some to learn that I kind of hate writing a long list of New Year's resolutions. This is mostly due to me always having a zillion things I want to improve on...

Cue the early 90's rap: "I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller..."

I'm constantly wishing I was more patient with my students, would read the classics, would learn to play tennis, would tone my abs, would stop being a slob, would stop stressing out, would cook for Dan like a good little wifey, would stay in contact with people better, would cue into politics more, would laugh more often, would get more sleep, and would stop "shame eating" leftover doughnuts in the staff room.

(In case you are curious, "shame eating" is when you are doing one or more of the following: 1. Standing up while eating 2. Inhaling fattening food at super sonic speed to avoid being seen eating said deliciousness by other people 3. Starting with "just a sliver" and ending with "holy shhiiitt...")

Yes, I definitely want to tweak many areas, but I'm still not a fan of feeling like January has to be the starting point for my huge overhaul. I'm also very lazy after two weeks of sleeping in and eating Christmas cookies, so I'm not in the mood for time-consuming changes.

Instead, I try to make a small, fun resolution. Two years ago, I resolved to wear more skirts and dresses. (I was wearing the same pair of comfy black pants so often I started to resemble the pianist at Nordstrom's.) Last year, I resolved to take more photos and post them on my blog. Done and done.

This year? I decided to make a small list of feasible, fun resolutions:

1. Buy a new house.
2. Decorate said house with skill of Martha Stewart, Young House Love, and Jonathon Adler
3. Obtain Master's degree. Then, my doctorate. Then, post-doctorate fellowship.
4. Speak fluent Italian before trip in April
5. Be greener- you know, recycle even more, compost, and build a windmill to generate clean energy for house (see number 1)
6. Seduce Dan twice daily, after first cooking him gourmet, three-course dinner
7. Coin a trendy catch-phrase (Paris Hilton's was "That's hot...", Michael Scott eternalized, "That's what she said", Mine will be something teacher-related and having to do with the grading scale, perhaps?)
8. Invent something superior to the Snuggie

Or, maybe I'll just use cloth bags when grocery shopping. At least it's a step in the right direction for number 5.

I'm still deciding.