Another week gone by. Like sands through the hour glass, so our the days of our lives.
This was kind of a weird week for me. On Sunday my phone broke while I was on a treat-yo-self trip to Target, leaving me unable to instagram the 40 oz fountain Diet Coke I was chugging at 11 AM and even worse: stranding me without a cellular device for four days while TMobile took their sweet time sending me a replacement. It is so sad the lost, unhinged, unmoored feeling that comes with being unplugged. I’ve always wanted to time travel back to colonial times…but I’m not sure how long I could survive without my cell piece. I barely made it through the week.
It’s also sort of pathetic how suddenly being without a phone gives a heightened sense of your own importance in the lives of others. HOW WILL PEOPLE REACH ME?!?! I panicked, before remembering that um, I’m not that popular. I sat agonizing over the millions of texts I was surely missing yet I refused to be one of those people who went to Facebook and blasted their entire feed: “Hey everyone! Broke my phone so if you need me, hit me up here or on email!”
I mean, I get it, I do, but how many people actually call/text you in a four day span? Can’t you just email the main peeps in your life and give them the heads up, without making a dramatic call for attention to all of your internet network. Maybe I’m just unpopular? I just don’t think that like, that random kid I worked with at the movie theater in 11th grade or that girl I had intro to Journalism class with in the fall of 2003 are really that concerned about the state of my phone slash life.
Uh, lessons on internet self indulgence from the girl writing a BLOG. Pot, kettle, etc. I know.
Thankfully my new phone arrived safe and sound Wednesday evening (don’t ask if I chased the office mail guy down the hall yelling “Is that my phone?!” because yes, yes I did) and I had missed a total of four text messages. Two from Brian on Sunday afternoon informing me he was on his way home. One from TMobile telling me they’d shipped my new phone (uh, how was I supposed to see this message, Tmobs?) and one from my friend Claire referencing a very bitchy but awesome inside joke we share from college so yeah, pretty important stuff right there! Did I learn any lessons about the joys of being unplugged and away from technology? EFF no. 1780’s, I’m sure you were delightful, but I might need to stick it out in the 2KTeens.
The worst part of being phoneless was that I was without a camera and unable to capture my hugely interesting life. But I can’t end a week without a recap so instead of our usual photographic accompaniment I’ve created some original artworks using my favorite computer program, Paintshop. So let’s do this thing!
Here’s a look at what was keeping it awkward this week:
This Yoga Class:
Guys, I don’t know if I’m cut out for yoga. I’m just too high strung. I finally got the nerve to graduate from Ultimate Beginner this week and went to an open level Vinyasa class with my friend Ursula, also a relative newbie. I’m the “L” up there and she’s “U.” JUST FYI.
I did slightly better than I thought I might at the poses, though there were a few like, one legged sideways balancing jobbers that were just NOT happening but as with all areas of my life, my overactive mind refused to shush up.
I know that the whole point of yoga is to quiet your mind and focus on your body or whatever but I just don’t know if I can get down with that. I like to be silly. I like to laugh with my friends if one of us falls over or crack wise if I’m struggling through a pose. And in yoga class (or at least any that I’ve been to) everyone’s so quiet and serious and breathy and earnest. I don’t love it.
Do I use humor as a crutch: no doy. Do I need to get over this? Probs. Can Yoga help me learn to appreciate quiet and get there? SURELY. But, I don’t know that I want to. Is there a yoga for comedians class I could take somewhere? Or laughter based yoga where everyone just has fun? It’s just so much with all the ommming and the breathing and dim lighting. Live a little, Yogis!
Related: the girl next to me, pictured above under the giant frowny face was probably one of the worst humans on earth. She was the very loudest breather I have ever encountered. And not in a natural way. She kept over dramatically huffing and sighing and puffing and making all of these noises and it was clear – trust me, I’m an expert – that she was doing it just for the attention. She also refused to follow along with the instructor on ANY moves and just kept doing her own thang, going faster than the rest of the class, falling to the mat unexpectedly, hopping where everyone else was stepping, generally causing a big old scene.
NO GIRL NO.
Also she was wearing a really ugly barrette in her hair which I know is petty but it was highly distracting.
Again, I know that I’m supposed to focus on myself, not everyone around me, but when the gal next to me is braying like a donkey and downward dogging when we’re supposed to be heading upward, HOW am I supposed to tune that out? If I can’t crack jokes in class, you gotta play it cool too, Bonnie Barrettes. That’s just how yoga WORKS!
Also: Ursula told me that while we were laying and meditating at the end of class (I was thinking about dinner, of course), that the instructor came over and massaged her face. HA! I would have urinated on the mat from giggling so hard.
Soooo yeah. Not quite sure yoga’s the sport for me.
Can’t you tell that is a bookshelf? My company deals exclusively in primary colored, one dimensional books. Pretty cool shit.
I realized sometime on like, Monday, that one of the shelves on my bookcase had broken, sending books careening into piles on the floor of my office. I just resumed whatever idiot thing I was doing at the time (probably catching up on my mormon mom blogs) and left the mess there for a cool three days until enough people commenting “OH MY GOD, LIZ, WHAT HAPPENED?!” inspired me to call maintenance.
I then had to sit here like an asshat mediating on my intense laziness while the nice maintenance guy cleaned up my mess of books and old press letters and also a broken glass which was somehow present in the region and I did not feel great about that.
THIS is what I mean when I say that maybe I should focus less on lofty long-term goals like marathons and more on getting my day-to-day shit together.
In an effort to spice up my wardrobe, I attempted the old scarf-as-accessory trick, one that I’ve never really mastered in the past.
I think I pulled it off in a big way. Not only did the scarf look adorable, it served as a convenient personal food storage center, as I found bits of both breakfast (oatmeal) and lunch (quinoa) tucked inside it when I took it off post-work.
And that’s that. Short and artistic. Just like I like my men. Just kidding, you know I like my men slim and mathematical.
What are y’all up to this weekend? Tomorrow is Brian’s birthday! We’re just a week apart, so we’re having a bit of a dual birthday celebration with some pals because what’s cuter than a joint couple birthday party?
Wishing everyone a very zen weekend! Zen Zen Zen!
xoxo Liz Ho