Sunday, September 26, 2010

Here Comes Now


First, I must openly admit that I stole this title from a song my Freddie recorded a few years back with a tremendous artist he has played with for a long time. I love the song but more so, the sentiment. And it couldn't apply more to my life than it does this week.

I've been a mom for the past six and a half years (!) and to say that it's been "life changing" would feel cliched and more so, lame. I fortunately never experienced debilitating post-partum depression; however, I do distinctly recall a brief blanket of sadness directly after Truman was born that felt like a mourning period. I felt selfish but I also knew what I was feeling - I knew that pre-mommy Melis was gone. Furthermore, who in the hell was this new Melis?

For the first time in the aforementioned six and a half years, I feel like she is here. After many highs, lows, ups, downs, and even hitting a serious iceberg, I've arrived at a beautiful place where I finally feel like, "Oh. THIS is my path." I thank circumstance, soul searching, and of course, my spiritual course of yoga for this gift.

I start yoga teacher training this Thursday with my fairy godparents at Sanctuary in Green Hills. I'm nervous, anxious, a little scared, and a lot looking forward to it. I don't possess a deep seeded burning desire to teach yoga. Many people tell me I should and maybe they know more about my destiny than I do? But I do want to learn as much as I can about it, spread its gospel, and prove my mantra that yoga indeed changes (and saves!) lives. All I know is that every time I am on the mat, I inherently know in my heart that it is where I am supposed to be.

Here. Comes. Now.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

J. Lo and Jumpsuits and Steven Tyler's Shirt?, Oh My...


With everything going on in the world, I'm still as intrigued as any other pop culture devouring whore about the upcoming Simon Cowell-less season of American Idol. "How will they ever replace him?" I wondered. I also thought, "How could the dreck 'talent' get any worse?" Like the proverbial trainwreck we all can never look away from, I pretty much watch A.I. religiously from January to May. And even though Simon was a sharp jerk at times, Fred and I always 100 percent agreed with his "constructive" critiques. (Cowell will also always have a special place in my heart as well because I had a vivid dream of, ahem, a sexual nature about him when I was preggers, but that my darlings, of course, is for another blog at a another definitive time).

The official announcement today of Jennifer "J. Lo" Lopez and Steven "Awesomely Aerosmith" Tyler's appointment to the A.I. judges table was not a shock to anyone in the western world. These names have been floating around for months and they are already past the point of water cooler banter. Howevs, nothing could have prepared me for the outfit choices La Lopez and El Tyler thrust upon the world at the press conference. First, you know you are in trouble when Randy Jackson outshines you in the couture department. His silver shoes are slammin.' Unfortunately, nothing about Jenny or Steven is. She is - AGAIN (remember New Year's Eve?) - sporting an ultimately disappointing JUMPSUIT! I hate these f-ing things. So unflattering and my god, the pants are TAPERED at the ankles. W.T.F??? Furthermore, what the F is Steven sporting? Where are the scarves? Where are the obscenely tight pants? Where's the funky footwear? I know you have them because I distinctly remember you buying a pair of cuban heels at Fluevog on Newbury Street when I worked there. Oh, it's all been replaced by a black blazer with a black floral shirt and some basic black shoes. The horror...the horror...Lulu for once has been rendered speechless.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

NAMASTE


Anyone and everyone within a 3000 mile radius of me and my being knows that in the past 18 months, yoga has become the center of my universe. What can I say? I simply love it.I call it my mid-30s-crisis-Madonna-Ray-of-Light moment. The mental clarity combined with the most rockin' muscle liberation my body has ever known makes for a happy mommy and wife.

Of course, yoga is about letting go of the material and embracing the communal spirit of peace, love, and light; however, I did grow up in the 80s so I have also come to terms with being a material girl in a material world. i.e. I LOVE TO SHOP! Yes, it's completely typical, obnoxious, and predictable but I just can't help it. Which is why when I noticed last year that there is a certain type of "apparel" certain types of "yoginis" embrace, I didn't know which way to run.

At first, practical Lulu took over. I hauled ass over to Old Navy and grabbed a few pairs of their yoga pants on clearance. They were comfy, flattering, and let's face it - CHEAP! Paired up with some tanks and tees from Goodwill, I was all set. Or was I?

After months of pondering sports bras and actual yoga tanks, in addition to an actual boob almost falling out at a workshop where I thought wearing a purple Calvin Klein demi satin bra would suffice, I decided it was time. Even though a rebel yogi friend had repeatedly declared: "Fuck yoga wear!," I bought a black sports bra. O.M.G. Me and my chataranga'd life would never be the same.

Then, a few months later, my bff cleaning out her closet gifted me with a tank and pants from Lululemon. Again, O.M.G.!!! Any yogini worth his or her weight in OMs knows that Lululemon is the creme de la creme of yoga wear. A Canadian company with its heart on the pulse of everything yoga, they make flattering and gorgeous yoga wear that is worthy of its cult-like status. For months, I fought the urge because A. it's really expensive and B. it's really expensive. However, as soon as my buns slipped into the hand-me-down pair of Groove pants, I was sold.

I went to the showroom on Friday and the shop on I experienced did not disappoint. Like my good friend who generously passed down her Lulus to me and who always mysteriously has a new Lululemon "something" on every time I see her, I am now a devout follower/fan/worshipper. And besides, Lulu is in their name. I'm gonna chalk it up to karma, fate, and the fact that I can't stop staring at my butt in their Gather & Crow capris.