Day 342: An Overdue Haircut, Shopping for Yoga Tops, Wandering Eyes & The Closing Ceremonies

Sunday, August 24

I tried to sleep in.  I woke up at quarter of ten.  I was groggy.  I slowly emerged from bed and made my way downstairs and cooked up a crab fritata with two organic, free range eggs, fresh cheese and chives.  I had two sausage links and a piece of toast made with Ener-G’s Seattle brown gluten-free loaf.  I had a glass of orange juice and consumed this while reading an article in Poets & Writers on poet Billy Collins.  We read some of Collins’ poems at Fishtrap.

I ran the dishwasher, put in a load of laundry, typed up some of my blog and then got ready to leave for my haircut.  I also packed a yoga bag, as I had every intention of going to the 3:30 class at Yoga Union.

I drove to the northwest and went to Dosha for my hair cut.  It had been a long time since I got my hair cut, so I needed to get a lot chopped off.  My hair had gotten out of control!  My hairdresser thinned it out so it wouldn’t be so heavy, thick and out of control.  I was pleased.  I bought a few Aveda products while I was there.  I walked along NW 23rd Street and wandered in and out of the many boutiques.

I got into my car and drove to the Pearl, over by R.E.I.  There, I bought a couple of yoga tops on sale.  Then, I went to Title Nine and bought a really heavy duty sports bra.  I had needed a new one for quite some time.  I missed my yoga class, but, at least, I got some much needed yoga tops that will keep me comfortable in my hot yoga classes.

I wandered up along Division and then over to Hawthorne.  I went into Pho Van for a bowl of pho soup.  I sat in a corner seat with a window to the entrance, with a view up the sidewalk.  It was good for people watching.  I unwinded with a pot of Oolong tea.  I noticed a woman, tall and lean, walking into the restaurant with a baby on her hip.  The baby spit up and it landed on the ground just outside the door.  The mother shrugged and proceeded inside.  Five minutes later, she left with takeout.  All I could think about was someone needed to rinse off the sidewalk outside of the door.  Someone was going to step in that small pool of pale yellow spit-up.  It was pretty gross. 

When my soup came, I joyfully added all of the condiments, including hot green peppers, bean sprouts, basil and lime.  I added a little hot sauce, mixed up the soup and started slurping rice noodles.  I’m proud that I eat my pho the way the Vietnamese ladies do, using the spoon like a bowl to hold the long, tangled noodles, pulling on them with my chopsticks as I carefully slurp them up from the spoon.  I noticed three couples enter at different intervals, and I noticed, when I was patting my lips with my napkin, sipping on tea or flipping a page to my book, that each of the three handsome men looked at me, making direct eye contact with me without their dates even noticing.  Wow.  I think men must learn this art as small boys.  It’s quite a skill.  I wondered how many dates I had been on that my date’s eyes wandered, stealthily, from mine to another’s.  Judging from the noticeable frequency this evening, I suspect it’s happened quite often, if not every time.  It’s amazing how a man can artfully turn his glance away from a woman to look at another woman, without letting her know.  The less than skillful ones get caught.

Sure, no damage done in looking.  But, it wasn’t just one guy.  All three looked.  And not just looked – they made very direct eye contact.  I had to blink and look away.  I didn’t even smile.  I was too stunned.  I don’t appreciate that kind of exchange.  Two of the three men were married and with their wives.  One of the wives was very pretty and pregnant.  This disturbed me.  It’s supposed to be okay for a man to “look”.  But I don’t know.  This wasn’t okay to me. 

When I left, it was raining.  I tucked my book into my jacket  and by the time I turned the corner onto 33rd Street, where my car was parked, I found shelter under a row of old, huge trees.  As I walked under the trees, the rain did not touch me.

Half way home, I realized I had left my Dosha bag of Aveda products at my table.  I pulled out my sales receipt and called the restaurant.  They put the bag aside for me to pick up on Monday or Tuesday.  What a pain!

I got home, emptied the dishwasher, finished my laundry and at a block of Dagoba chocolate.  I got nestled into the sofa and watched the Olympic Closing Ceremonies.  Crazy that the summer is nearly over.  Crazy that another Olympics has passed.  It seems like yesterday when I was in Montana, up on Big Mountain at Whitefish, watching parts of the Opening Ceremonies at the Bierstuben. 

Ah well.  Life just seems to roll along, swifty and often mercilessly.

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Day 337: Dinner at Red Hills & Remembering Jaws

Tuesday, August 19

I woke up to a rainy morning.  The rain was good and definitely needed out here in the northern Willamette.  I stretched and went downstairs to get in ten solid sun salutation yoga poses and 100 crunches.  I ate a half cup of cantaloupe for breakfast nd felt refreshed.

On my way to work, I headed over to Target to get materials to create place cards for our wine dinner on Saturday.  I was going with a green leaf theme.  When I got to the office, I had a meeting regarding our wine dinner over lunch.  I brought Amy’s Kitchen green tamale with cheese, which is obviously gluten-free. 

In the afternoon, I met a former colleague, a wine broker from mid-Atlantic, at winery.  We tasted through our line up and then I gave him a quick tour of the cellar.  After, we drove the back roads to Dundee and had dinner at Red Hills Provincial Dining.  It has such a beautiful dining room, much like a California bungalow, with old dark wood siding and built in cabinets, etc.

I ordered the Montrachet small plate to start, a single roll of warm goat cheese and herbs wrapped in grape leaves, and replaced the crostini with sliced apple and celery, for a gluten-free option, which also came with whole roasted garlic and marinated olives.  It was delicious.  We selected a bottle of Scott Paul Pinot noir.  And then I ordered the duck confit for dinner with chicken sausage and mixed vegetables.  The food was truly delightful.  And because it was cold and rainy, it was comfort cuisine.  They had an amazing ice cream and sorbet selection – I had to have four tiny scoups because I wanted to try them all!  It was hard enough to narrow it down to four flabors.   I was able to decide on the fig sorbet, cherry chocolate praline, lavender ice cream and pomegranate coconut. I finished with a cup of decaf cappuccino.

When I got home, I watched Jaws on television – the only horror movie that really ever scared the crap out of me because, well, shark attacks can actually happen.  I remember swimming on the swim team as a kid and I was six years old and I stood stoic on the block ready for my race when my mother, who was timing in the next lane, called over, “think of Jaws.”  Child abuse!  By the time the started shot the cap gun, I was shaking the whole 25 meter length of the pool.  The pool was shaped like a “Z”.  I was swimming free style.  As I approached the end where the deep top of the “Z” was, to my left, I peered over and could have sworn Jaws was in there coming for me!  I never paddled and kicked so hard in my life.  Needless to say, I won the race.  Got a blue ribbon.

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Day 307: An Awakening

Sunday, July 20

I slept in, which was lovely.  I stripped down my bed and put in a load of laundry.  I emptied the dishwasher and then read some.

I drove to Sherwood to the Target to look for some decorations for the pre-IPNC wine dinner.  I found some large, flat river stones that I’m going to use in place of place cards.  I picked up a couple of metallic gold paint pens to write names down on the river stones.  And then I bought some smaller river stones to place loose on the tables.

From Target I drove to the Mt. Tabor neighborhood for some much needed yoga at my favorite studio, Yoga Union.  I went to the 3:30 Hot Flow class, which means the studio was hot like Bikram, and the movements were really challenging.  This afternoon’s focus was on the shoulders.  It was a  great overall body workout, but a nice, strengthening shoulder flow.  I sweat like crazy.  And…I was distracted by a very cute, muscular twenty-something man. 

Mid-way through the class he took off his shirt, and at first I kept trying to look away.  I kept telling myself to focus!  But I couldn’t stop peeking.  It was like a train wreck, only beautiful.  He was astonishing!  I felt like a voyeur as I continued to glance at his perfect muscles as they rippled and hardened with each challenging yoga pose.  I watched the sweat glisten on his body and, for a moment, I wanted to be the sweat glistening on his body!  I had to cool off – only it was 96 degrees in the studio!  The good news was that, after being in a fog for over two years, I realized that I wasn’t angry, sad or afraid of men anymore – if it’s fair to put my feelings into that light.  The good news was that all of those negative thoughts were out of my system, and in a good, healthy yoga class I found my romantic prana.  And it made me smile.  Blush, too.  It was an awakening.

After my class I took a cold shower in the locker room.  I scrubbed my hair clean, and used an exfoliating wash cloth to slough off the dead skin cells.  I felt clean and renewed after my hard and invigorating workout.  I drove down to the Pearl District and met Kerry for dinner at Bay 13.  I was in the mood for sushi.  The highlight was their Manhattan with the luscious amarone cherry.  It’s one of the best Manhattans in town.  I also had the Bay 13 sushi roll with wheat-free tamari sauce. 

We were seated outside on the loungey sofas with a view of the 24 Hour Fitness gym.  We kept gawking at all of the cute men walking in and out.  We called Susan and convinced her to meet us out.  We were, after all, celebrating Summer Sundays.  I came up with this concept back when we had an unusually hot spell in May.  It was the Sunday of that weekend that we convened at Clyde Common and drank bubbles and I declared it the start of Summer Sundays – when we’d meet for good food, good cocktails, good wine and no worries bout the fading weekend.  The thought was to launch the work week on a good note with an enjoyable Summer Sunday.  It was kind of like a Jimmy Buffet concept, really.

So, tonight was no exception.  Susan met us for dinner.  The weather was great and there were so many attractive men to look at in this neighborhood – a perfect combination for this group of sassy, free spirited women! 

After Bay 13, we walked along 13th Street toward Powell’s at the other end of the Pearl.  We went to Mio Gelato and ordered our favorite summer treat.  I had a small cup with one scoop of Mascarpone and one scoop of Cioccolato gelato.  It was divine.  We wandered through Powell’s and just loved being in the company of so many books.  I didn’t buy anything, as I forgot my book list that I created at Summer Fishtrap.

I got home and was really content.  My energy is good.  I feel good – balanced and really happy.  I could write that good things are to come.  But, that’s life.  You get good times and bad times cycling in and out of your days.  I went through a bad patch with my accident and my current financial stress.  But, I really do feel good things coming – both on the literary front and in the places in my heart.

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Day 302: Anxiousness, A Car Wreck & Considering Therapy for Celiac Symptoms

Tuesday, July 15

Again, I had more catch up work to do.  I was still in my fog.  I felt tense.  My rash was pretty bad.  Not so lovely.  But, such is Celiac disease.  I was anxious and sleepy.  I obsessed on how I needed yoga.  I seemed to feel my best when I went to my most recent yoga classes.  I felt dependent on this, I needed to get to yoga. 

My thoughts continued to run, but on how I needed to make extra cash from writing.  Would I write short stories and submit them to Glimmer Train and hope to get published and paid?  Would I write an essay to submit to The Sun and hope to get published and paid?  Too much pressure.  Perhaps a poetry contest?  As of late, aside from this blog, and, well, my unpublished novel that I’m revising, this is the only writing I’m doing that’s not just for me.  I know I need to share my work, to get published, but for some reason I’m very uncertain about the means for which to get published.  Perhaps I just need to be patient and wait for the book to happen.  Ugh.  I get exhausted just thinking about it.

By the time I drove home in the evening, my head was still in a fog.  My allergies or cold, or whatever this recent bout was from, was painful.  My sinuses hurt and I had a headache. 

I was a block from home and I was in an accident.  It happened so fast.  I didn’t see the car in front of me slam on the breaks.  I was slow to react.  I just came to at the side of the road, glass everywhere, my neck sore, and green fluid streaming from the front of my car like automotive blood.  My poor Goldie Hawn was hurt, her front was slightly smashed, a headlight was busted.  And I was sitting on the curb with the woman I hit, writing down our information while the police was on the way.  The shards of broken glass were all over the road, glistening in the hot sun.  I was sweating like crazy. 

 

An hour or so later, my car was towed, the other driver drove off and I walked home, still in a daze.  What had just happened?  It was crazy.  The last time I had been in an accident like this, I had suffered from my first anxiety attack.  I’ll never forget it. 

It was Halloween weekend 2004.  It was raining.  I was to go to a party at my cousin’s cousin Jeff’s house.  I sat in my driveway, the car running, my hands on the wheel and I felt this incredible pressure in my forearms.  It wasn’t painful, but my arms were stiff.  It was weird and intense.  I couldn’t drive.  My head rang with “I can’t go out, I can’t go anywhere.”  I was having an anxiety attack.  But, I didn’t know it.  I didn’t know what the heck was going on.  This was two and a half years before my diagnosis.

 

Anyway, I finally calmed down, caught my breath and headed toward Portland.  Only, when I made it into Tigard, still on the Pacific Highway, and in the rain, I ended up in a small accident much like the one I was in tonight, but far less damage.  Was there a pattern?

 

I kind of thought, as I walked home tonight, that I should restrain myself from getting behind the wheel after feeling any ounce of such anxiousness.  I didn’t want to chance going through this again.  Both times I was lucky – no one was hurt.  I couldn’t handle a worse case scenario.  And, I wondered if I needed to make an appointment with the therapist in Portland who works with people with eating disorders and Celiac disease.  It was a little unsettling realizing that I was in a category, Celiac disease, that could require therapy.  It couldn’t hurt.  If anything, I could learn how to better manage this disease.  Or, more specifically, better manage myself so that I could manage this disease.

 

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Day 288: Portland Heat, Anticipating a Creative Holiday & More on The Bachelorette

Monday, June 30

I woke up again to a warm room.  I can’t complain, though.  When I lived in Seattle I lived on the third floor of a buiding that got sweltering hot – it was a very sweaty, uncomfortable summer.  Again, most rental apartments in the northwest do not have air conditioning, so you have to either get window AC units or fans.  My place, here in south Portland, is heavily shaded by tall, towering, lush trees.  My downstairs is on the second floor, and it’s pretty cool and comfortable.  It does get a bit hotter upstairs, but I do have a large fan in my room, so I actually sleep comfortably with an opened window.  Again, I can’t complain.

Anyway.  I was a little stressed due to a shortened week and a lot to do before I take off for vacation on Sunday.  I am pretty psyched for my time at the Fishtrap summer writers workshop and gathering.  I have a lot on my plate.  I almost feel guilty for leaving for vacation, but, it’s important to keep the work-life balance.  And I am really excited about my second writers workshop of the year, following this spring’s wonderful Sikta Center for Arts & Ecology workshop with Kim Stafford.  While I’ll be there, I’ll read the work of my peers in my writer’s group, getting ready for our first session when I return.  I have a lot to look forward to with writing, mostly in feeling like part of a community.  I know this will eventually help me to get more work published.

I was still feeling really good coming out of my yoga class last night.  I haven’t been congested in nearly three weeks.  I can’t figure out what happened.  Either my last cold (when I was around my friends’ sick children) caused me to blow my nose so hard that it literally blew open a passage that was causing my chronic congestion; or the yoga is working all of my systems and detoxifying me; or I have had allergies all along and I have finally acclimated to them.  It’s really a mystery to me.  All I know is that I feel great.

This evening I put in a hard run on the treadmill.  I have been committed to putting more into my workouts.  I feel stronger, more deft in my movements and my posture has improved.  My core is stronger, I’m not slouching at my desk so much. 

Now.  On to more substantive stuff.  This evening’s episode of The Bachelorette.  I know, I know.  I should stop before I get ahead of myself.  But, it’s a guilty pleasure.  Bachelorette DeAnna Pappas was down to her final three.  Last week’s elimination of hunk-a-hunk-a-Carolina-luv, Graham, wasn’t giving Ms. D enough.  He was all distant and not putting his heart out there.  God, I know a few Grahams out there.  Sad.  But we all quickly moved on to Jeremy.  I always liked Jeremy.  He was definitely one of the few guys who seems genuinely smitten and in it not to just win it, but to connect with her. 

So, this week’s episode took Ms. D to the Bahamas with three individual dates.  The first was with Jeremy, who’s just perfect.  The date seemed perfect.  But then J pulled a Graham and pulled back.  But he saved face at dinner, clued D in on his intentions and with relief accepted her offer to join her in the fantasy suite.  Next, she had a chill and fun time with Jason.  It’s clear she’s having a great time with this father of a three year old son.  There seems to be something concrete with these two.  And, in a light and funny moment, Jason accepted the fantasy suite before he even finished reading the invite.  It was actually quite charming.  The final date was with Jesse, the snowboard bum from Breck, as he calls it (Breckenridge, CO).  There’s something very sweet about this guy but I’m not entirely sure he’s really ready for the kind of relationship D wants, though he professed in his boyish charm: if you are really wanting marriage at the end of this, that’s where I’m at...

And in a dramatic conclusion, she let Jeremy go.  I thought Jeremy and Graham would be the final two standing on bended knee.  And it’s funny the final three were all J’s – Jeremy, Jason and Jesse.

Anyway.  Why do I watch this?  And why do I bother taking the time to write about it?  I guess it’s the general cynicism for love that ABC’s long-running Bachelor program perpetuates.  I mean, the Bachelor has never ended up with his final rose.  And here’s a situation where the woman in charge, DeAnna, is really focused and committed to finding love.  She’s not over-thinking the plausable false intentions of dudes competing for her affection (or attention) on national television.  I think she genuinely believes the odds are in her favor and she will find true love.  And, perhaps as lame or trite as that may sound, it does inspire me.  Of course, I’d never go on a live t.v. show in search of love, but more power to her.

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Day 287: Portland Summer Heat, Hot Yoga & Evening Thunderstorms to Cool Things Off

Sunday, June 29, 2008

I slept in until 10:00 a.m.  It was really warm in my room, despite the mega fan I had on all night.  It’s crazy that there are very few places in the northwest with air conditioning.  And it does get flippin hot here in the valley. 

When I got out of bed, I put a load of laundry in, using cold water.  I started sorting through some of my winter clothes, trying to figure out what I should keep, toss or give to Goodwill.  Shortly into my work, I realized this was a much bigger job than I had anticipated.  I took a break and went downstairs to grab a bite.  I had half of the gluten-free focaccia.  It was the perfect texture – almost like pizza crust.  I was so psyched.  I couldn’t believe it was gluten-free.  It had halved grape tomatoes, red onion, mushrooms and herbs in the center with olive oil brushed across the top.  I also had a small glass of lite orange juice and a few fresh strawberries – it is strawberry season!  And I just love this season of abundance – so many great fruits and vegetables from local farms to enjoy!

After I got some decent sustenance, I hung a couple of pictures that I had been undecided about and finally decide to just put them up.  I was satisfied.

I then finished my laundry and continued working on my project upstairs.  It was really, really hot.  I needed a break, so I put on my yoga gear, grabbed my mat, put some cucumber slices in my water bottle and filled it up, then headed up to Mt. Tabor to the Yoga Union studio.  It is by no means convenient.  But I love the energy of this place.  It’s never over crowded like Yoga Pearl.  There are bamboo floors, which I really prefer over the carpeted floor at Yoga Pearl.  And it’s always a good crowd with more good energy.  Today, at 3:30, was the Hot Flow class, a blend of their “hot” yoga class and their Vinyassa class.  The temperature was up.  A very bubbly twenty-something guy checked me in.  He was the instructor for the class.

It was another intense workout.  Ninety minutes of holding poses your body shouldn’t be able to contort into and I was sweating like crazy.  I kept focusing on my breath, trying to keep myself in the moment, in each pose.  When the class ended I felt incredibly energized.  Everyone was very congenial after class, some people lingered to talk to a couple staff and I just liked the communal essence of this place.

I am happy that yoga is helping me to relax, energize, detox and sculpt my body.  I can see a difference after the two classes I’ve gone to in the past week.  I can’t believe I had been away from it for so long.  What was I thinking?

By the time I got home it was raining.  I took a shower to rinse off from the rigorous yoga workout.  I washed my hair and rejuvenated from the Origins Salt Suds body wash.

By the time I got out, I could hear thunder rolling, which made my cat very nervous.  I couldn’t recall experiencing a thunderstorm since I moved out here.  I was pretty pumped.  I love thunderstorms, which makes me think of home back east.  There was lightening, too.  For a few fuzzy moments I thought we might lose power, but not the case.  The heavy rains eventually moved in and out and the thunder and lightening subsided.  I felt some nostalgia for my former Virginia summers.

I finished the small focaccia with a salad and a glass of sweet-tart organic cran-lemonade.  I lit some candles, in honor of thunderstorms past, and some “moss” incense.  I sipped on more cucumber water and breathed in smooth and effortlessly.  I got caught up on some writing while I watched some of the swimming Olympic trials and jumped up with excitement when Michael Phelps and Katie Hoff each broke a world record.  I became nostalgic for the many years I swam competitively.  I loved the 100 and 200 meter individual medley (comprised of, and in this order, butterfly, backstroke, breaststroke and free style); the 50 and 100 meter butterfly; and the 50 and 100 meter breaststroke.  I also loved swimming the individual medley relay, to which my sister and I swam on a relay team (I swam butterfly and she swam breaststroke), and not only did we win, we broke a pool record.  I believe our record is still unbroken.  Ah, the swim team days!

My project upstairs was nearly complete.  I was done for the evening.  I had all the windows open as the thunderstorms moved eastward and cool breezes circulated through my townhouse.  It was refreshing!  Finally, I could cool down.

 

 

 

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Day 284: Simple Acts of Detoxification

Thursday, June 25

This afternoon at work I joined my coworkers out on our deck to plant flowers, tomatoes, basil, strawberries and squash in two wine barrels.  We’re all pretty psyched about the mini garden.  After, we all went to an open house at a new tasting room in downtown Newberg.  It’s a beautiful spot and it was good to chat with colleagues.  I decided to forgo the wine and appetizers and opted for a glass of water.  I left after fifteen minutes in attempt to make a 6:30 p.m. Vinyassa class at Yoga Pearl. 

I stopped home first to change into my yoga gear and to grab my mat.  But I hit all kinds of crazy traffic.  I arrived at 6:36 and missed the class.  A woman there, eating at the Blossoming Lotus Cafe, which is adjacent to the studio, came over and told me I could possibly make it to Yoga Union, up in the Mt. Tabor neighborhood (up Hawthorne), for the 7:15 p.m. class.  I was on my way.  I rushed into the studio with a kind of energy that I know was scorned by the uber relaxed staff who were chilling out exponentially, and trying to get me to chill out without telling me in a rude tone to chill out.  That’s more a jab at myself, not the staff.  They were all very pleasant.  I got all signed up and was offered a free class, since it was my first one there.  That was very kind! 

Tonight’s 7:15 class was hot yoga – and it was wonderful.  I spent 90 minutes challenging my body and sweating like crazy.  It was a rigorous class and I could feel every muscle benefit, I could feel my breath improving, I could feel all of my body systems benefitting from this incredible workout.  There’s really nothing like yoga – it’s truly a mind, body, soul workout.  I loved this studio, the instructor was kind, funny and for sure a spiritual guide.  I would definitely return soon for another class.

Class was over by 8:45 p.m., and by the time I’d get home to eat dinner that would mean a late digestion.  So, I decided to stop by a Thai/Vietnamese place, and ordered a papaya salad to start, followed by a medium bowl of pho soup.  I was 99% sure I was safe from gluten contamination.  The papaya salad was really good, I only ate a small helping.  I figured I’d take the leftovers home for lunch.  The pho was okay, not quite as good as a Vietnamese only restaurant.  Still, it hit the spot.

On my way out, a homeless guy who had been loitering outside of the restaurant had asked me if I had any leftovers, which I obviously did, as I was holding the box on my way out.  My compassion brimmed and I handed him the box that was filled with my leftover papaya salad.  I got into my car and as I turned back onto Hawthorne, I noticed the guy tossed the leftover papaya salad into the trash.  I was pissed.  I love papaya salad and would have been super happy to have it for lunch.  But, I wanted to do the right thing and offer it to someone who seemed to need it more that I did.  The guy was ungrateful for my charity.  When do beggars become choosers?  Okay, this guy was hungry and I gave him food and it wasn’t good enough?  I’m sorry that it wasn’t chicken chow mein or beef rangoon, but give me a flippin’ break.  It was free food!  And healthy.  And delicious!  This was my first experience with an ungrateful homeless person.  And it made me more sad than angry.  I couldn’t believe this dude wasted the food and threw it away!!  Seriously??

When I got home I had to rinse off.  I sweat profusely at yoga.  I stared off by using my dry skin brush to detoxify and stimulate the lymph system.  This removes dead skin cells and promote’s the skin’s process of excreting toxins through the skin.  It’s recommended to do it immediately before showering or bathing, starting with the feet and working up the body towards the heart.

I took a refreshing shower with a refreshing ginger salt scrub by Origins followed by a rosemary-mint shower gel on a loofah.  I love Origins and Aveda, and I am on this serious kick to put only natural products on my hair and skin that I could eat – I mean, why would you put chemicals on your body that absorb? 

While I cleansed my skin, I reflected on why I loved yoga so much, how it makes you slow down and focus on breath and your body.  After I towel dried off, my skin was baby smooth.  The toxins had been released from yoga and dry brushing, while the dead skin had been sloughed off. 

I put on some loose, organic cotton pajama pants with a tank top, and went downstairs to drink more water, a cup of Yogi chamomile tea, and I truly felt cleared, balanced and happy.

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Day 260: Working in Portland, A New Baby Cousin, Vinyassa Yoga & Fighting A Cold?

Monday, June 2

Deep breath.  Om.  Stretch.  Breathe.  I was a little congested this morning.  So I had to make an effort to take in deeper, clearer, meditative breaths.

After I got out of bed, I got online for work.  I checked my emails, responded to different requests, edited some copy for our brochure, then got ready to leave for an appointment and also to drop off wine downtown.  On my way out, I had to take a Claritan-D.  I was very congested and my eyes were itchy and watering up.  I kept sneezing.  Must be allergies.  Or…the non-allergic rhinitis condition I supposedly had.  I’m still not convinced it’s not just plain allergies.

First, I drove up to Killingsworth to meet with the Chef at Autentica.  It was an engaging meeting about an event we’re going to do at the winery.  After, I dropped off wine with the Oregon Wine Board for media and event samples. 

I had a late lunch with a colleague at Andina.  I love Andina because they have amazing, unique cuisine and they have a gluten-free menu.  I had a glass of the sweet lime juice, instead of bread they gave me fried yuca with spicy verde sauce, and then I had the small plate of mixed greens with fresh vegetables (which included hearts of palm and asparagus with a zingy lime dressing), and then the rich avocado stuffed with crab and shrimp. 

After lunch I checked my work emails and worked on our wine club logo.  And then I found out my cousin gave birth to a baby girl, Natalie Hope, weighing in at 8 pounds even.  This was my cousin’s first daugther after two sons.  I was so excited!  I called her in the afternoon, thinking I’d get her voice mail, but was delighted she picked up.  It was so good to hear her voice.  I felt so happy for this wonderful blessing.

I then headed over to Yoga Pearl.  I was going to do it.  I was going to drop in on a yoga class!  This would be my first class since this fall (I think!).  I was going to the Vinyassa class, which was really hard!  It’s a 90 minute class, and when it started I was feeling pretty good.  I got there early and unrolled my mat and stretched out and started working on my breathing.  The initial positions were slow movements, the usual positions.  But half way through the class I was sweating as if it were the Power Vinyassa class with the room temperature heated at 95 degrees.  But, no, I was just getting a hard workout.  I kept pushing myself, even though my weak ankles sometimes wobbled (I had chronic ankle sprains from previous sports injuries).  At one point I wondered if I would make it all the way through the class.  I didn’t realize how out of shape I was.  But I persevered.  And I made it through the challenging class.  I was so proud of myself! 

When it was over, I was soaked with sweat, exhausted and my throat was pretty sore.  I felt like I had unleashed so many toxins in this deep, intense and balancing exercise that perhaps I got a cold?  I drank a little water on my way home.

It had occurred to me that I wasn’t working myself hard enough in my gym workouts.  It took me to be pushed hard as I was this evening to see just how much I had been coasting along with light bicycle workouts, walking or jogging on the treadmill, even if I was going for 40 minutes.  After this great workout, I decided I would work out harder, all around.  I had lost some muscle tone and wanted to get my strength and endurance back.

On my way home, I stopped by Crate & Barrel to pick up hurricane lamps that were on sale for work.  When I left it started to rain.  And by the time I drove the four miles home, my throat was killing me.  I went upstairs and grabbed a Ricola throat losenge.  And then I took a very relaxing, aromatherapy shower.  For a moment, I felt better.  I was clear.  But it didn’t last for long. 

About thirty minutes later, after I made myself vegetable soup for dinner, my throat was killing me again.  I made a cup of Matcha green tea, which is loaded with antioxidants, with a teaspoon of orange honey.   I had been downing large glasses of water to cleanse out all of the toxins I had loosened up from yoga.  And I took a dose of Wellness herbal resistance drops as an additional safeguard. 

It’s weird.  I felt tremendous from my yoga workout and yet got home only to feel sick.  The sore throat could easily have been a symptom of my allergy-like symptoms – from the post nasal drip and hard, dry breathing (without water intake) during the yoga class.  Or, I was fighting a cold. 

Irrespective, I had another throat losenge, continued to drink more water, and heated up my aromatherapy neck wrap to soothe and relax.  I kept blowing my nose, which was in one part really congested, to the point I could feel clogging in my ears, and then getting runny.  I felt crappy.

I worked on the haiku I wrote for my sister, putting it in a customized, pretty design that I planned to frame and mail out to her.  This kept me relaxed while I tried to breathe and feel better.

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Day 259: Farewell My Mandolin, More Books on Writing, Fine Brew Pub Cuisine & A Thankful Haiku

Sunday, June 1

Well, June opened with a cool, crappy weather day.  I got up with some really good intentions for how I should spend my day.  I thought about going to either a yoga or a pilates class at Yoga Pearl, followed by a sauna and steam at Löyly.  Then, I was going to meet a Craig’s List buyer to sell my bluegrass mandolin.  Then, I thought I’d go to the Writer’s Dojo.  But, my day unfolded a little different.

I met the Craig’s List buyer at Powell’s downtown and we made the exchange.  He was very nice and we chatted for a bit about the instrument.  He wore an Oriole’s jacket and I told him I was born in the same hospital as Cal Ripken, Jr.  That was a good sign!  He’s from Bethesda, Maryland – not far from where I grew up.  I told him that I tend to get attached to things and that I was a little sad to sell the mandolin, but, I was happy it was going to someone who was going to play it.  It’s a pretty instrument and should be played.  It was just sitting in the corner of my aparment, silenced.  He was sweet – he said he’d email me to let me know how the mandolin’s doing.  Then, a nice quick cup of coffee at Peet’s to chat about mandolin classes and music books.  The money I made from the sell, which was a bit less than what I paid for it, will go into my savings account.

I then went back to Powell’s to peruse the writer’s section.  I finally picked up a copy of Elizabeth Lyon’s book Nonfiction Book Proposals Anybody Can Write.  I have heard much praise about Anne Lamott’s book on writing, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.  I also picked up a used copy of The Art of Nonfiction by Ayn Rand.  And finally, I got a copy of Barbara Kingsolver’s book of essays, Small Wonder.  I really dislike writing short fiction and so I want to develop my essay writing skills.

As I was walking down 11th Street in the Pearl, not sure where my footsteps should take me, I approached the new Deschutes Brewery Pub and noticed my co-worker and her husband.  They waved and I smiled.  It was a pleasant surprise!  I went inside to say hello.  They kindly asked me to join them.  It was really wonderful. 

The design was very spacious, open with great seating areas.  There’s a large, round table on top of a barrel with cool barstools around it.  There were a few wooded arches between seating areas with really cool carvings.  It was very rustic and yet very beautiful.

Deschutes did not have their low gluten beer available anymore – to my dismay.  So, I ordered a glass of Oregon Viognier.  I was handed a gluten-free menu, which was nice.  I ordered the sausage, duck prosciutto and salami appetizer with pickled veggies and a side of french fries – that were cooked in a fryer that does not fry breaded foods.  So, it was all safe and very good late lunch.  Probably the best pub food I’ve ever had, next to Old Dominion Brewery in Ashland, Virginia.

My friends ordered a beer sampler and really liked the brews they tried.  They each ordered a different brew with their food.  After we settled the tab, I went to the front concierge and asked if I could fill out a comment card to request they keep the low gluten brew (it’s like 90% gluten free) on the menu, and even pleaded they create a 100% gluten free beer to have available.  They sold out of their brew in two weeks – I would say that indicates there’s a market for it!

After, I drove back home and headed to Whole Foods at Bridgeport Village.  My mom had sent me a nice gift card.  I picked up my cosmetic night cream, daily moisturizer and toner, since I was running low.  I found gluten-free mini blueberry muffins by Kinnikinnick.  I also found cinnamon raisin bagels by Enjoy Life, which I’ve picked up there before.  Amy’s Kitchen has a new product, too, the gluten-free Tamale Verde in two versions – black bean and cheese.  I was so excited!  Amy’s also now makes a gluten free personal pizza, which was very exciting, as well.  I also picked up Yogi tea in Cammomile and Stomach Ease.

I had the Tamale Verde in black bean for dinner.  It was fantastic!  I made a cup of Yogi Cammomile tea and kicked back  while I flipped through my new books.

My sister informed me she was sending me a check for my L.J.S.W. Fund -which made me laugh, but I honestly appreciated.  I worked on a customized haiku for her, which I am going to put into a design and then frame it for her. 

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Day 253: Memorial Day & Red Wings Win

Monday, May 26

First, I must acknowledge that it’s Memorial Day.  I spent some time this morning reflecting on those who had lost life during war.  I am grateful for our troops’ dedication and heroism when it comes to protecting and defending our country and our ideals.  I am proud to be the daugther of a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the Army.  My dad served in Viet Nam and is a hero in my book – I am lucky that he made it back.  So, my thoughts and prayers are today with those who make the ultimate sacrifice to serve and protect.

I woke up with very painfully congested sinuses accompanied by a runny nose.  I had to take a Claritan-D.  I decided to go downstairs and before I’d do anything else, I did 10 yoga sun salutations which eased up the tension in my shoulders.  I exaggerated the positions to maximize the stretching and strength training.

I made an Italian style organic brown one-egg omelet with Italian cheeses, pinenuts, basil and tomato.  I toasted a piece of brown rice bread. 

I then got to work.  I washed the floors, vacuumed upstairs and downstairs, including the stairs, scrubbed the bathrooms, the kitchen and then dusted.  After, as if that wasn’t enough of a workout for one day, I went to the gym and jogged for 45 minutes.

When I got back I took an aromatherapy shower with rosemary, mint and sage.  I quickly dressed and then headed over to Claudia’s Sports Bar on 30th and Hawthorne for the Red Wings vs. Penguins game two of the Stanley Cup finals.  I met Shirley, two of her friends and Chris, from Upper Deck.  It was a shut-out game, Red Wings 3-0.

After, I went home and felt pretty bad from the cigarette smoke in Claudia’s.  I didn’t realize how sensitive I was.  I was very congested.  And my throat burned.  I tried to meditate so the congestion wouldn’t be so bad, a practice that I find helps, but not clears the problem.

I worked on my writing and then groomed my cats.  It was my intention to do soothing things that would keep my stress down and my congestion controlled.  I have been tense about my finances, as I am taking on some writing opportunities that aren’t free.  But, I believe this is a necessary step toward my literary goals.  This feeds me with great hope and happiness. 

 

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