And Now for Something Completely Different

First off, my thanks to Giselle for advising me to take yoga rather than cycling the night after Zumba. My abs  were on fire yesterday from Zumba, so yoga was definitely the better option. Good call, Giselle!

Yoga was the opposite experience of Zumba. Zumba was crowded, loud, crazy and intense. Yoga was extremely quiet and calm. While I didn't take Zumba seriously going in, yoga intimidated me. I tried taking yoga years ago during undergrad, and it was a disaster. The classroom was insanely full, so there was no room to really move. The instructor expected everyone to already have knowledge of the poses so I was completely lost and had no idea if I was doing anything correctly. I was miserable. I wasn't looking too forward to yoga last night, but decided to give it another try, encouraged by my fiancé’s aunt, who teaches yoga, and my friend Scott, both of whom have said many good things that convinced me to give it a chance. 

Last night after work I walked into the gym and immediately felt good about my decision. The room was quiet and dimly lit, except for a single overhead light and some white Christmas lights in trees in the corners of the room. Less than 10 people took the class so there was plenty of spacing between the mats. The instructor introduced herself to me and put me at ease by asking me knowledge and comfort level and assuring me that she would demonstrate the poses for us, and also walk around to check our alignment during the class. 

I was surprised that I was able to do all of the poses with no problems. I think in my mind I had built up yoga to be extremely difficult because of my past bad experience, but it actually feels really good. The instructor had a very calm voice and was good at explaining how to do each pose. She also told us what each pose does, (cooling, flexibility, etc) which I liked.

I tend to have a billion different thoughts in my mind at any given second and also have a tendency to be fidgety, so at first I had a little trouble staying in a pose for extended periods because I was impatient to move on to the next one. I think it’s good for me to have an activity that forces me to focus on a single position and clear my mind. At one point I realized I hadn’t thought about anything since the beginning of class – I hadn’t made mental checklists of things I needed to do or worried about work or family or friends or weekend plans. It kind of felt magical and indulgent.  When the instructor said we only had a few minutes left I was shocked. The hour passed so quickly but I didn't feel exhausted as I had with Zumba. For the final stretch we had our backs on the floor and our legs straight up against a wall, which we did for about 5 minutes with our eyes closed. It was awesome.

I am really glad I have overcome my fear of yoga. I felt great after class and I'd like to make it part of my weekly workout plan. So with positive Zumba and yoga experiences, my fitness week is a success so far. I hope to have another good experience with tonight’s indoor cycling class.

Things That Make You Go Zum(ba)

Upon realizing that my student ID doesn't expire until four years from now, I decided to take advantage of it by getting involved in some of the free fitness classes on campus. I run and swim, but these are solitary and somewhat repetitive, so I thought it would be fun to try new things and check out some group classes. So with the help of Giselle (of thingsthatmakegisellelaugh fame) I created an ambitious schedule for this week, trying a new class each night with the thought that if I don't like it, at least I didn't lose any money on it.

For my first night, I tried Zumba. I've heard a lot of positive reviews of Zumba from friends and coworkers, but I was dubious. (One friend described it as "That class where them girls drop they booties to Latin songs.") In my mind it was just Jazzercise with salsa music, something for people who can't really work out. I imagined old women with sweatbands on their arms and Olivia Newton John outfits. I though I'd be walking into a Hot Sundae video. When my friend said "My mom loves Zumba!" this did little to change my bias. Before going my friend and I jokingly tried to guess what the demographics would be, banking on old, severely out of shape, etc. 
 
I arrived a few minutes early to stretch and took in my surroundings. It was a mix of older women (professors) and college girls at varying levels of fitness. I was not the only first-timer, and I heard many of the other new girls begging their friends not to mock them if they couldn't keep up. Some old woman came up to me and asked if I was new. I told her it was indeed my first Zumba experience. She then  told me to listen to my body and not to worry if I couldn't make it the whole hour, take breaks if I needed to and not feel bad if I couldn't figure out the routines. because they can be really complicated. "Back the F off, Miss Havisham!" I thought to myself before sweetly assuring her I would modify any moves I found too challenging. Then because I had called her Miss Havisham in my head I thought of Pip, and his friend Herbert Pocket and what a perfect name Herbert Pocket is. 
 
So, how was Zumba?

Well, to my happy surprise it was really intense. During the hour you learn about 10 fast paced dance routines. A friend had advised me to bring a towel because of how much it makes you sweat, and that was good advice.
 
The music was way too loud. You aren't always facing the instructor, and I am hard of hearing so I had trouble hearing when the instructor said it was time to move to a new routine over the loud loud loud music. Thankfully I quickly figured out that new song = new routine.
 
My favorite moves were those that combined salsa and boxing, probably because of my comfort with shaking my hips and throwing punches.
 
Some people have no rhythm. At all. 
 
Some women don't know how to move their hips and have trouble dropping it's like it's lukewarm, much less hot. Loosen up, people! 
 
MC Hammer? Really? That just makes me think of elementary school when we had to do dance units in gym class, which consisted of the electric slide (boogie woogie woogie!), line dancing, and student-choreographed routines. My group once had to dance to 2 Legit 2 Quit. It was sad.
 
Two of the routines felt a little goofy, like we were practicing to be in "Step It Up 13: Latin Beat-down" or "Step it Up 15: The Rhythm is Gonna Get You...in 3D!!!" which made me wonder why Channing Tatum's abs weren't in class with us.
 
In one of the songs, the singer kept talking about making desayuno for his amor after she stayed overnight. This made me want migas, which made me think of how gross it would feel to eat a big Mexican breakfast right before an hour of working out. Chorizo + cardio = no bueno.
 
Do not go to Zumba if you can't run or at least jog for an hour straight. There are no breaks at all. It starts fast and gets faster from there. People started leaving at the half hour mark because they were exhausted. Only about 2/3 of the class lasted the whole hour. 
 
Do not go to Zumba if you have no hand-eye coordination. If you can't pick up a dance move just by watching someone do it, the class will probably be frustrating for you. There was one person who left because she spent most of the first 3 routines standing still trying to understand the basic steps and wasn't able to combine them.It helps to have some background in dancing because the instructor doesn't explain the moves at all. She just jumps right into a new routine with multiple steps and you have to copy what she's doing. 
 
I wore my running shoes (Nike Torch). It would have been better to wear Pumas or dance shoes.
 
I'm not used to sweaty dancing to Latin beats in a healthy context. At the 45 minute mark I was momentarily confused by the lack of margaritas and chili con carne.

Over all, it was fun, it was different, and it was a good workout. I will definitely go again. Hopefully I will have another positive experience with tonight's class, yoga.

 

Philadelphia Freedom!

           This past weekend I took a day trip to Philadelphia with some friends. The drive up was blissfully traffic-less, a miracle considering we spent a good deal of our time on 95. Despite the inconsistent weather leading up to the trip, it could not have been a nicer day for touring. One of my friends is originally from a Philly suburb and came up with our game plan for the day, so after arriving we walked directly to Little Pete’s diner, where I had challah French toast with fresh strawberries, which was fantastic. This was the first time I had seen many of my friends since during the semester, so it was great to catch up. I was momentarily jealous when they were talking about what classes they are taking in the fall, until I remembered how crazy school made me.

             After we stuffed ourselves on diner food we walked over to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, AKA home of the Rocky steps, as the street vendors hocking Rocky shirts would have it known. We saw some people foolishly attempting to run the steps in foam flip flops. Not a good idea, people. The Chagall exhibit was really great. We also saw exhibits on men’s fashion and controversial photography. The modern design exhibit was very cool. It was displayed like an ikea store, and the inclusion of a Mac desktop from 1999 made one of my friends observe that we are officially old now that our high school computers are museum relics.  We also wandered into what became my favorite exhibit of the trip. I am a huge fan of poster art, and this exhibit was exclusively health & medical posters promising tonics to cure everything from gout to alcoholism. Sure, some people stared at us as we laughingly yelled "check out the syphilis" and "the ten commandements of tuberculosis!" at each other, but these posters were really funny. My favorite was the anti-marijuana poster, which made me wonder two things:

1. Why are they injecting weed? 2. Why would a kid be discouraged if you are going to promise him wild parties and orgies? No wonder the war on drugs has always been a lost cause.

              We explored the permanent collection for a bit. If you’ve never been, I highly recommend it. It’s a really impressive and diverse collection, spanning across the globe and covering pretty much every time period. There is even a life size Hindu temple and Japanese tea garden. Before leaving Philly we settled into a bar called Bishop's Collar, where we had some very curious quesadillas. Fresh blackberries and blueberries were mixed in with the pico and the guacamole. We were all dubious at first, but the berries were a delightful addition. After snacking we buckled into the car and headed home.

             All in all it was a pretty perfect trip.  Oh, except for the part where a girl in our group got escorted by city police away from the Liberty Bell because she had airplane bottles in her person. Be warned, kids, Philly doesn’t mess around with bag checks.

If it's Good Enough for Elvis, It's Good Enough for Me

Before leaving my doctor’s appointment on Friday, my dear little doctor ordered me to do nothing all weekend. Nothing at all. Doctor-prescribed relaxation. So I spent the better part of Friday afternoon by the pool, exploring do-nothingness. At first I read, but then as I flipped to lay on my front for a bit I set aside my book and closed my eyes. It turns out doing nothing feels incredibly indulgent and amazing. Friday night we stayed in and watched movies, and then did more of the same on Saturday afternoon. Saturday night we went out to Dogfish because I don't think that going out to a bar as long as you are there to eat counts as "doing something." (Yes, I am aware that I am not a doctor, thank you.)

Happily sipping my Sah'Tea, the waiter came to tell us of their new wing menu. I  am a wing enthusiast, so we tried two of the new flavors, the Jerk Rum, which was ok, and the Sweet and Sour  which was quite good. Then, against all good judgment, I ordered my entrée, which sounded, well, disgusting. There are many flavors I strongly like, but that doesn't necessarily mean I ever, ever want to taste those flavors simultaneously in a single bite. However, sometimes curiosity takes control. So I ordered the burger of the week, which this consisted of: a bun, a burger patty, bacon, lettuce, and...peanut butter.

That's right. Peanut butter. Oh yes.

I was worried it would be so gross I wouldn't be able to stomach more than a bite. I could not imagine what all of those flavors would taste like together. The waiter's description did little to help this, as he made a liberal slathering gesture while describing how the peanut butter was put on right away to make sure it gets hot and melty. Still, I feel life is meant for adventure and trying new things, and I was raised that you can't really say you don't like something unless you've tried it. Which is how I know I hate star fruit, more than human words can possibly describe. So I thought, "why not?"

It was delicious.

I know, I know, but hear me out. Somehow, somehow it all worked so well together. The peanut butter, melty as promised, complemented the hamburger patty, the saltiness of the bacon cut through the creaminess of the peanut butter, and the cool moisture of the crisp lettuce helped to keep it all from being impossible to chew. It was so good, I ate the whole thing, ignoring the fries to focus on the awesomeness of this burger which united flavors I never would have put together.

Now, I would never, ever make this a regular part of my diet, because I kind of like for my arteries to function. As a one-time order, I feel that it was a good decision. I got to experience something new, and now have something to add to the list of things I've tried that make people curl their nose in disgust, filed somewhere between alligator and pigeon. So judge if you like, but I shall continue to embrace adventure. Unless, that is, it involves star fruit.

Falling Out of Love

It has happened more than once, and always unexpectedly. Sitting in the car listening to the radio, or at my desk with my iPod on shuffle, I hear a song and immediately cringe. 

It's a song by a band I used to like, maybe even love, but I can't help my physical reaction to it now. As I drove to work this morning I heard a commercial for a concert: "See U2! with Florence and the Machine" to which I thought "Ugh, I like Florence but I don't think I'm willing to sit through U2 for her, am I? No, no I am not." This made me wonder, at what point did I go from liking U2 to finding them intolerable even to hear about? Certainly the album Pop didn't help (they lost me at catorce). When I was younger I liked them quite a bit, and now all I can think of is how absurd Bono has become. During the next radio commercial break one of their songs started playing and I rolled my eyes. I remember watching the movie Taken about a year or two ago with a few people, and what we found most unbelievable in that film - which was nothing if not a string of unbelievable scenes - was the very notion that any teenage girls would want to go to Europe to follow U2 on tour. Of all bands, honestly? That's who Hollywood thinks young girls want to listen to? I digress. U2's recent involvement in the failed Spiderman musical only made my dislike of them more intense, as I found myself shaking my head and wondering how they went from that Irish rock band singing about the Easter Uprising to self-important has-beens, the butt of many a Conan joke.

I also find I now have a similar aversion to Muse, a band I used to intensely love. I hate to play the "I liked them before they were popular" game, but hey, I did, and well, there has been a inverse correlation between their rising popularity and the decrease in the quality of their music. They hit a wall. I started listening to Muse back in college, and even though Showbiz sounds like they spent too much time listening to Pablo Honey before recording it, I felt they had developed a distinct sound and I could not stop listening to Absolution. It became one of my all-time favorite albums. I went to see them in concert a few years ago, and most people's response when I told them I was going to see Muse was a confused "Who?" The concert, one of the best I've ever been to, was at the Patriot Center and was at the most 1/3 full. (honestly, closer to 1/4 full). 

Then their latest album came out, and I could not have been more underwhelmed as all the songs blended into each other. I did not recognize them. It sounded like another band. It was so over-produced, tame, and well, ridiculous. The lyrics were simplistic, the guitar repetitive and obvious. Anyone could have made that album. And THAT's the album that they have become famous for. They won awards, got invited to perform at lots of shows, got showered with praise. I don't just think the album is mediocre, I actually don't like listening to it. At all. When I hear one of the songs on the radio I change the station. When one of the tracks (Usually Resistance or Uprising) is used in a commercial or trailer I count it as points against whatever the trailer is advertising. I scoffed as people began to post about Muse on Facebook as if they were some new band just invented by MTV. I am all for artists I like succeeding, but it's sad when that success comes at the price of the very music I liked them for in the first place.  I was annoyed because for years I had told people about them, and now I didn't even want to hear them anymore - I was embarrassed for people to think that's the band I've recommended. I also wondered if people who love The Resistance would even like earlier albums because they sound so different.

After thinking about this, I realized this isn't exclusive to music - there are many TV shows, actors and authors I have lost interest in over the years. For instance, The Simpsons used to be one of my favorite shows. I wasn't allowed to watch it, but I did anyway, for about 9 and a half or 10 seasons. Now, I can't even stand seeing commercials for new episodes. I tried to sit through the movie, but it was pretty terrible. The same is true of Saturday Night Live. I used to think the show was funny, but now even seeing the ads for upcoming episodes elicits a sigh of contempt and a desire to watch an old Phil Hartman skit. Similarly, I was fine with Tom Cruise when he was Maverick, LeStat or Daniel Kaffee, but now trailers for his new movies cause me to sneer.

So now I wonder, why do I get annoyed when I encounter these things I used to enjoy? I have outgrown many things in life that I don't react negatively to now.  The fact that I no longer read The Berenstain Bears or James Herriot's novels, or that I haven't seen an episode of Sesame Street in years doesn't mean I can't stand hearing about them, and I certainly don't begrudge other people for liking them. In fact, I think of them fondly because of the happiness they brought me. So, I am resolved. I will no longer be annoyed with entertainment that disappoints me. Here's to indifference!*


*Despite my new indifference to my own lost loves, I want to hear about yours, so tell me about them in the comments section!

And Like That, It's Over...

Grad school has dominated my life for the past two years. Weekends were sacrificed to endless reading and writing, weeknights spent either in class or doing homework. I fully realize that no one made me go to grad school, it was a completely voluntary endeavor, although it was very necessary if I want to have a career in art history, which is my passion. As I paid for grad school myself, and as I am what some people might consider a "perfectionist" about my grades, I couldn't see spending all the money and time if I wasn't going to kick ass and get awesome grades, so I devoted myself to my school work.

Still, the entire time I was in grad school all I could think of was what I would do after school was over. I would have free time! I would take trips, I would see friends, I would reorganize every room in our home, I would spend more time with my fiance, not forsaking his company so I could spend my evenings reading Michael Leja or Wanda Corn. After two years of feeling like I was missing out, like my life was somehow on hold, I am free! Graduating two weeks ago was a surreal experience. Suddenly those two years that had seemed interminable felt as though they'd gone by in no time at all, and I found myself second-guessing "Am I really ready to graduate? Should I have taken X, Y, or Z class? I wish I had taken a class with so-and-so professor. Should I apply to PhD programs? Who will hire me now?"

When you go to school full time while also working full time, you have to plan ahead and make the most out of your time in order to have any kind of balance between work, school, and fun. Now I find myself almost paralyzed with possibilities. What will I do today? I could paint, I could write, I could play video games. I could lay by the pool. I could do nothing at all. I feel like I am wasting my time because I'm not doing anything. One of my graduation gifts was a Kindle, which my marvelous aunt and uncle pre-loaded with a multitude of books. It's one of the more thoughtful gifts I've received, yet I keep feeling that sitting around reading old Philip K. Dick stories is somehow lazy. Don't I have a paper to write? Isn't there some deadline I have to meet? My fiance got me three video games I really wanted for graduation (L.A. Noire, Heavy Rain, and Red Dead Redemption) and I've played each of them a little so far, but I feel bad that I'm not playing them more, as if there's some sort of finite time I have to play them in or else I'll have missed my opportunity, as if they are an obligation not recreation. It's bizarre - I have spent so much time thinking of entertainment and relaxation as something I had to fit in during a small amount of time that I am somehow failing if I don't do everything all at once.

The transition from planning every minute of every day to just hanging out and doing whatever I feel like as the day goes on has been surprisingly unsettling. This past weekend, Memorial Day, much of my time was spent watching movies and tv, just relaxing. In the back of my mind the planner in me kept nagging "you could be doing so much more today." I woke up each morning immediately trying to plan my day in blocks ("If I run first I can be done working out and showering by the time the pool opens, then I can spend X amount of time at the pool reading my kindle, then I can write letters and emails to people I've neglected this semester, then I can reorganize my closet, etc, etc) only to end up spending the majority of the day just talking with my fiance and watching tv.

While I'm still adjusting to free time, I am definitely loving it. The last week of school, during which I had to complete my Comprehensive Exams, was brutal. I didn't sleep, I was pumped with a constant stream of caffeine and I was panicked and stressed at the thought that if I didn't pass I wouldn't graduate, and I'd have to do the whole exam process all over again. So, although it still feels a little weird that I don't have to do anything, I definitely appreciate the freedom of being able to do things on the spur of the moment without feeling as though I'm betraying my studies. Besides, I might as well enjoy this now, because with the wedding less than a year away I am sure I will miss this free time when I am running around like crazy coordinating with vendors, family and guests.

MIA

I know I haven't been keeping up with this. This [hopefully] final semester of grad school hasn't left me much free time, but after graduation I will post more frequently. I have actually started a number of posts since early December, I just haven't finished them.