"the siddhis are essential to achieving samadhi, which is the true power ... to deny them [the siddhis] is to deny your ultimate freedom. You can only step beyond these powers once you've acquired them. Renouncing them beforehand, as many practitioners of yoga do, mimics yet forestalls the true liberation... In addition, renouncing the siddhis, as some yoga teachers today advocate, keeps you powerless, and perpetuates your suffering as a victim." --Yoga, Power, and Spirit: Patanjali the Shaman, Alberto Villodo, Ph.D

"For better or worse, the areas that Fives explore do not depend on social validation; indeed, if others agree with their ideas too readily, Fives tend to fear that their ideas might be too conventional. History is full of famous Fives who overturned accepted ways of understanding or doing things (Darwin, Einstein, Nietzshce). Many more Fives, however, have become lost in the Byzantine complexities of their own thought processes, becoming merely eccentric and socially isolated."

Managed to nip a nipple and give myself tracks whilst trimming chest hair. #moondaymadness

And a sense that I'd entered into an Ashtanga version of a Dan Brown novel as I woke up realizing Norman Allen hadn't really tried to break my rib in my sleep.

So many samskaras to burn through, so little time.

Pop Francis continued: “A person once asked me, in a provocative manner, if I approved of homosexuality. I replied with another question: ‘Tell me: when God looks at a gay person, does he endorse the existence of this person with love, or reject and condemn this person?’”

“This church with which we should be thinking is the home of all,” he said, “not a small chapel that can hold only a small group of selected people.”

A wise woman said that there are three pillars for a supported practice: the method, the teacher, and the community. I am so grateful for my community's support. Emotions are there, words are not. xo.

When you are unemployed, which is to say when you are underfed, harassed, bored, and miserable, you don't want to eat dull wholesome food. You want something a little bit 'tasty'. There is always some cheaply pleasant thing to tempt you. Let's have threepennorth of chips! Run out and buy us a twopenny ice-cream! Put the kettle on and we'll all have a nice cup of tea! That is how your mind works when you are at the P.A.C. level. White bread-and-marg and sugared tea don't nourish you to any extent, but they are nicer (at least most people think so) than brown bread-and-dripping and cold water. Unemployment is an endless misery that has got to be constantly palliated, and especially with tea, the Englishman's opium. A cup of tea or even an aspirin is much better as a temporary stimulant than a crust of brown bread.
- George Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier

Nicole Kdman: "'In the second half of my life, I don't want to succumb to any complacency,' she said. 'I want to push myself and keep pushing myself to places of discomfort and discovery. I am still very curious."

Looking for a used (yes, used) manduka pro. size long. ebay and amazon flop at this.

My brain this weekend: dadsupermansupermandadsupermanyogasupermandad

Got to share practice with my man & my besties. Saturday couldn't possibly start better.

...and I broke the DC DMV website contesting too many parking tickets. Ha!

First run in many, many, many months. Beautiful day, beautiful friends.

Scooting through Mysore with boy is equal parts romantic & terrifying. Sounds about right.

Older man watching his grandson in the barber's chair, me, and a business man reading the paper sitting respectively. This memory's a keeper.

"It startles me sometimes, that glow emanating from the faces and bodies around me...how did it get there? Does it take from my own? ...no, that light is so full, so diffuse, so slippery it slides over and illuminates all. It is my responsibility and choice to stand clear of the shadows, not only to encourage the light to come out, but also to let it in." -- Kristen Krash, I love you.

I was attacked and hospitalized this year for being gay. My partner was refused from the hospital. He spent the night alone scared *I* might die alone. I did, too. This election year, there is a gentleman asking for your vote who believes we do not deserve equal rights-- including being together in the hospital. In the ever-after. Nor fiscally. I ask you to please not think of your wallets at the ballot, but of your hearts. Could you let your husband die alone? Mitt Romney would say that I deserve to die that way-- and I can't elect him. I hope that you cannot either. If you love me (or love your spouse) I ask that you pause and reflect on morals and compassion. I have never been so scared in my entire life as I was in that night-- alone. Please know that your vote goes beyond laissez-faire notions of capitalism and concerns of modified socialism and hits me directly at home. A vote for Mitt Romney will bolster an opportunity to strip me of civil rights, and I pray that your heart won't allow that. If you can in good conscience and faith elect an official who will allow me to die alone with a catheter but no solace, may peace be with you. I cannot. There is no tax break worth my humanity or my husband's tears. I pray that the reality of that notion means that you cannot either. If it doesn't, however, I wish you a moment of reckoning. Again, may peace be with you.

“@scissorsisters: Let's Have A (Muppet) #KIKI @BarManMichael

India is the cradle of the human race, the birthplace of human speech, the mother of history, the grandmother of legend, and the great grand mother of tradition. -Mark Twain-- Happy Independence Day, Ma India!

RT @HuffPostDC: '"Path to Prosperity?" For Many Senior Citizens, VP Pick Ryan's Plan Would Be Path to the Poorhouse' @wendellpotter

RT @VideodromeDisco: RIP Gore Vidal. Here he is on the Dic Cavett show, squabbling with Norman Mailer

@BarManMichael

Camping with my man!

"Beauty & The Beat-- “@BarManMichael: This is hilarious! Welcome to our neighborhood!" #eckington #love

His @esquire madonna i'view is ace -@HuffPostDC: N. Pelosi, Jane Lynch & Kathleen Turner out 4 Norman Lear's 90th bday

@BarManMichael yaaay! “@Popjustice: Basically play this then this - amazing.”

“@nytimes: Eat: Chili Lobster for Father’s Day @BarManMichael

Headed back to the house to see it with some daylight. Maybe grab something other than a manduka, yellow knee socks, and hot shorts.

I like my man best.

I'm not a business man. I'm a business, man.

So many things to report: no water in my part of Gokulum, as such I smell like India, multiplied by white boy. Also: I've had three chais at Amruths, and so I have no shame in sharing.

Eat a little, drink a little
Talk a little, sleep a little
Mix a little, move a little
Serve a little, rest a little
Work a little, relax a little
Study a little, worship a little
Do Asana a little, Pranayama a little
Reflect a little, meditate a little
Do Japa a little, do Kirtan a little
Write Mantra a little, have Satsang a little
Serve, Love, Give, Purify, Meditate, Realize
Be good, Do good; Be kind, Be compassionate
Enquire 'Who am I ?', Know the Self and be Free

Navigating Mysore City is a daunting task. Fear not, with a copilot like Antonella, I fared well. The haul? A stove-top coffee maker, fisherman's pants, and "gym vests" (aka 4 bright and shiny tank tops) in hand. A warning: I am going to come home dressed like a yogi (I have a custom pair of 3/4 length pants being made). I am not done.

Survived led primary with Delhi Belly. Talk about humbling-- I felt like a human level.

As many of you know, I abhor groupons... But a weekend at the Satchitananda Ashram from 1/2 off would likely do both you & the ashram a favor. I know I'd like to go for a weekend. May, anyone? bit.ly/ywRCSQ

My first conference was fascinating. I got to view Sharath, the (these are my terms) titleholder of the Ashtanga lineage, through the lens of a man who deals with keeping the purity of a practice in the real world-- the world of parties, internet gossip, and multiculturalism. A fascinating, non-textbook experience. A highlight, paraphrased: "A man with two gurus (gu ru: dispel dark) is like a man with two doctors-- take both pieces of advice/take both pills, and you surely are worse for it."

Self Yoga Coaching: Recording my Primary Series Practice to Richard Freeman's commentary, then watching a split screen of us together. (I may have gone off the deep end)

In my quest to stream Richard Freeman lectures and videos, I discovered that the DC Public Library streams books and videos. How glad am I to be a member of the Library?!

Being the best man to my best friend is pretty much the best. All is full of love.

My Steve Jobs Update: LSD User, India for enlightenment go-er, and a man who also thought that maybe "Thomas Edison did a lot more to improve the world than Karl Marx and Neem Kairolie Baba put together.”

Salutation Nation, Tux Shopping, Grooming, Tosca at the Kennedy Center, Shmancy Cocktails in Formalwear. Go!

O hai mango. O bai cleanse.

Southern woman are fixin' to be the death of me.

Have we talked about my Strong & Sweet: A Labor Day Master Class? Noon on Labor Day at STROGA-- oh man, I'm excited.

After a hot outdoor practice, listenin' to my Daddy's Eagle's vinyl whilst getting ready for a date with my man. Life sure is good.

I am the type of man who wakes up before 7 on the weekends. How has this happened?

Monsoon & Sons was spectac! Love you Lauren Waggner, Jay Wilson, Jonna Ashley, and of course Miss Emily Monahan. Sad I missed Peg Mulqueen, Augusta Zoe Hemann, and @Jen!

2 things: 1) "Those are some hot pants, mmhmm," said the homeless-ish gentleman nicely (if twitchingly). 2) The guy on the courtesy call today sounded hot & on my team. Conclusion: I love the compliment and i also wanted to hollar at a telemarketer. Me=crazy

Somehow or another, I've ended up playing the role of little old man... again. I reckon its off to bed before too long 🙂

Heavy Deadlifts demand... protein. Then yoga.

Happy 4/20, everyone! Today is Sebastian Cole Hall's 6th Birthday!

Fun Trivia: Seabass's given name from the pound was "Redman."

deadlifts demand yoga.

Old Man Michael hates getting to practice at 7 but likes sleeping till 6.

Looking to put a cap on the week?

Want to start the weekend off right?

Need to be good before you can go be bad?

Happy Hour Yoga!

Turn Friday’s afternoon toil into weekend bliss in the company of your friends, peers, colleagues, and fellow practitioners!

How does a 3,000sqft roofdeck sound? Consider yourself invited to the place that’s been home to my practice for years: Balance Gym.

Get ready for 90 minutes of prana-pulsing blissed out vinyasa with strong influences from the Ashtanga and Iyengar traditions.

Mid City Yoga was started with the idea that yoga can be done anywhere– boardroom, bedroom, shala, or studio (be it yoga or crossfit). For many folks, the gym setting can be the most unconventional space of all.

Balance is the gym at which I discovered my love for yoga. It’s the place that provided haven and encouragement for me to come to my mat more than once a week. This is the place that gave me my first teaching gig. I love it here, and you will, too!

Okay, enough shmaltz. If my love for the place doesn’t sell you on it, the roofdeck at dusk sure will. The minute it heats up, thats where we’ll be. And in the mean time (or in cases of inclement weather), we have an awesome (indoor) studio at our disposal.

The fine print:

What: Happy Hour Yoga–a vinyasa steeped heavily in Ashtanga with cues and carry-overs from Iyengar

When: Fridays, 5:30-7p– all Spring & Summer Long

Where:

View Larger Map

Balance Gym Thomas Circle
1111 14th Street NW
Washington, DC 20005

Phone: (202) 216-9000

Closest Metro: McPherson Square

Price: $20 drop in, $59 monthly (includes gym access and all weekly yoga and non yoga classes)

Food + Mani + Pedi (w/ sparkles) + friends

Not unlike my time spent at the ashram, I managed to accidently sleep through pranayama. Well hello, 6:40.

What good is Yoga? "Eradicating the instinctive weaknesses of human beings. For some it may be quick for some it may be slow. But change has to take place, transformation has to take place, whoever it may be, in whatever average intellectual condition they are." -- BKS Iyengar

Loses his ability to bear insult or injury to others when he's stressed. To the two gentleman I ripped into for making a meter maid's job harder: stop being dicks, but I'm sorry I lectured you. I don't like tickets, either. But seriously: leave 'er alone.

saw my landlord's henchman photoging a mattress someone pitched next to the dumpster. I know this is going to somehow end up with me going to court.

"Length before strength" is a new mantra for me.

When tempted to skip a pose today in my practice, I thought of what Peggy shared: "The ashtanga yoga system should never be confused with "power yoga" or any whimsical creation which goes against the tradition of the many types of yoga scriptures. It would be a shame to lose the precious jewel of liberation in the mud of ignorant body building." -- Mr. Jois

I didn't skip.

Want to know a secret?

I start out every single one of my yoga classes with a dynamic warmup, just like how we start a CrossFit class at Balance Gym.

Around my parts, we call the warmup “sun salutations,” and there are as many different varieties of sun salutations from tradition to tradition as there are accents from location to location.

A ”dynamic warmup” implies that the warmup changes based on neccesity. It would seem to me that this is why you find different salutations– making sure that everything is primed that’ll be used, and not wasting time on what won’t.

Ask any lifter who has trouble opening up their chest what its like to do an overhead press, cold: not so easy/safe. How about getting a yogi to place their forehead on their shins, immediately after starting practice? Oft-times, not likely. This is why we heat the body up and acquaint ourselves with correlated movements. I mean, c’mon! It’s called a WARM UP!

One of the most common sequences that you see in salutations also happen to be two of the more common movements you see at the start of a CrossFit class: Urdhva Mukha Svanasana and Adho Mukha Svanasana. You probably know them as upward facing dog and downward facing dog, respectively.

Why so popular? These two little movements work to create a flexible, strong back, improves posture, firms the buttocks, stimulates your abdominal organs, improves sciatica, and can be therapeutic for asthma. Getting movement back into your chest, shoulders, improving grip/wrist strength, aaaaaaaand improved breathing? That’s a lot of bang for your buck.

Knowing how to come into and to exit this posture, though, is important to receive maximum benefits. So how do we do this warmup effectively?

Lets start with Updog:

Step 1:

Start out lying on the floor, flat on your belly. Walk the legs back, making them as long as possible). The feet should be hips distance wide, lining up the center of the foot with the frontal hip bones. Place the hands on the floor next to your chest, keeping the middle fingers pointing straight ahead, in line with the deltoids.

Step 2:

-With an inhalation press the tops of the feet and the palms into the floor. Raise the head and chest.

Step 3:

-Straighten the arms and lift the waist, hips, and knees a few inches above the floor. Pull the trunk and legs forward.

-Turn the arms out, widening the collarbones, and curve the trunk back between them. Bring the coccyx, sacrum, and lumbar forward.

-Avoid firmly contracting the glutes– instead, firm the quads and lift the kneecaps. Stretch the front of the body from the pubis, feeling as though your frontal hip bones were reaching for the backs of your wrists. Raise the sternum and top ribs. Take the shoulders back and press the shoulder blades (and the muscles around them) in.

-Take the head back, without constricting the neck or straining the throat. Gaze back to intensify the curve of the trunk.

What else should I know?

First and foremost: keep your low belly drawing in and up. This will help keep you safe!

Sometimes, there’s a tendency in this pose to “hang” on the shoulders, which lifts them up toward the ears and “turtles” the neck. Actively draw the shoulders away from the ears by lengthening down along the back armpits, pulling the shoulder blades toward the tailbone, and puffing the side ribs forward.

Your legs should do the work, not your back. To increase the strength and lightness of this pose, push from the backs of your knees along thecalves and out through the heels. The tops of your feet will press more firmly against the floor; as they do, lift the top sternum up and forward.

Be aware here: Keep the elbows and knees locked.

It is also important to allow the abs to relax during any backward bending pose. The back muscles are what flex here and a relaxed forward side of the body helps allow for this backbend to happen.

So– what now?

To transiton into “downdog“:

-first engage the legs, then the tailbone, then the sacrum. Try to feel as though you were moving from the pelvis. Let your thighs pull back and your hips reach up, rolling over five or ten toes at a go.
-Pull in the head and neck last. The gaze is at the belly button, and the ribs tuck. This is the way to synch the postures without putting stress on your neck and shoulders.

Try it. Legs first, then tailbone, then sacrum, then the relaxed, dangling neck and head.

Need more help?

Hands and Feet:

A high plank hold, an upward facing dog, and a downward facing dog all have the same hand and foot placement. Keep the hands in line with each other and the feet hip distance wide. You needn’t fidget.

The Transition:

As you move from updog, tuck the toes under (either by rolling over the toes or by flipping each foot), raise the head and trunk; bend the legs to raise the hips. Straighten the arms.

Finding Down Dog:

-Press the palm heels into the floor, stretch the fingers and clutch at the earth as though it were a globe. Wrap the back of your armpits down towards the mat as you roll the inner arm up. The inner armpit should feel hollow.

-Lift the pelvis nice and high. Keep the coccyx and the bottom of the pubis pointing up, pulling the pubis between the legs.

-Without losing the height of the hips, stretch the heels down. Move the thighs and shins back to bring the weight onto the backs of the legs and the heels. You’ll really want to feel the thigh bone pressing into the back of the leg. Spread the toes.

-Continue moving the trunk towards the legs. Keep the ribs anchored in, and let the collarbones widen. Relax the head and neck. If possible, rest the head on the floor (with active, unbent arms).

For Further Reading:

Yoga Anatomy, Leslie Kaminoff

Yoga: The Iyengar Way, Silvia, Mira, & Shyam Mehta

Yoga Journal, Updog

Yoga Journal, Downdog

revels in knowing that others are invested in his success and wellbeing. I hope I'm man enough to return the favor.

This weekend I listened to a wonderful lecture by a teacher from Charlottesville, Kate Hallahan. I wanted to share the link with you all. You can check out the podcast here.

“This week’s feature is a lecture on the History and Philosophy of Yoga with Charlottesville Yoga Teacher,Kate Hallahan. Kate is the Founder of the Guerrilla Yoga Project which offers Donation-Only Yoga Classes to all sectors of the community and Co-Director of theCharlottesville Yoga School. Kate has studied extensively with Kofia Busia, one of the world’s foremost Iyengar teachers, as well as other senior teachers in both the Iyengar and Anusara Traditions. Kate is devoted to her daily yoga practice and has a background deeply rooted in the philosophy of yoga.”

A teacher who specializes in Guerilla yoga, the antiquity of the practice, and who has an Iyengar background? My kind of lady. I hope you enjoy.

Wait wait wait... YOGA is back on the taxing block and IHOP gets a permanent tax break? You've gotta be fucking kidding me. No wonder we have a divide in this city between obesity and super healthy. Shit like this.

found the card his friends gave him when he left the DC Improv to start his own business. Choice quotes: "You will be Great Yoga Master <3 Melba Davis " "Bend over and Show me something Nasty!! Love ya Baby, Kazi Jones" "My lifelong running partner. Thanks for helping me find my version of adulthood. Love, Bryson Turner ps: tell sebastian hi" sooooo many good ones.

will not fear needlessly, cry heedlessly, nor celebrate joylessly. I am a man of valor and swagger.

On Gymnosophists (naked philosophers)-- Alexander [the great] asked how a man could be most loved; "If," said the philosopher, "he is most powerful, and yet does not inspire fear." Ahhhh, ancient yogis.

"He's not even wearing a costume! Thats just his caveman outfit and some S&M gear!"

As a man, there are few things more beautiful and intoxicating than giving your favorite woman away.

's learning what it really means to be a man. His father's a great example. His friends are incred(able?ulous?).

's Dad is a wise man.

Went to the mountains. Competed in Caveman Olympics. Survived. Barely.

Team Cave Sketch is in 3rd at the Caveman Olympics.

is on his way to the mountains to compete in the Caveman Olympics

is bleeding, bruised & wants to sue the city for a faulty manhole. My poor bike & I will survive.

knows that sometimes you have to try things that don't work to find what does... but man, its hard not feeling like fail.

Oh man!

is soaked from running-- and managed to listen the whole time to his body. "I love summer!"

"A famous financier understood [life value] when he asked and answered his own rhetorical question: "When does a man have enough money? When he makes his next million." Time and time again, we find that the people who are truly satisfied and enriched in this life, the ones who have achieved what is indisputably happiness, are the ones who have sought to create value for others. -Charles S. Sanford, Jr

Love must be as much a light, as it is a flame. ~Henry David Thoreau

I’ve been burning a dark, cold flame.

This week, I spoke to my classes about one of the different kinds of yoga that exist outside of the physical, specifically touching on the yoga of the heart: Bhakti yoga. While I worked on cracking open my student’s heart center (figuratively and litereally), a friend allowed obesity to end his life, a car came purposteriously close to endangering mine, and I couldn’t deadlift as much as I would have liked.

My inner monologue had begun to feel like crabs in a pot, only able to take so much of the flame before it came to a shrill scream. I nearly lost it on a couple who cut in front of me in line at Whole Foods with 18 items in the express lane.

Erica tells me I have white people problems.

She’s right, and it makes me laugh when I remove myself from my own malarkey. As I find myself noting the steam coming from the cracks in my exterior enamel, I’m reminded to return to my breath.

I didn’t flip out on the couple. Barely.

The next time you find yourself nearly going over the edge, as I nearly did, I would encourage you to disconnect from the anger by observing your breath. Allow your focus to shift from an outside perspective to an inner one. The outer circumstances can’t always provide you with the context required to make an adequate, informed judgement call on whats happening; however, a look at your inner fire can access why you are responding in whatever a manner it is you’re responding.

I find that compassion, sometimes called karuna, is harder when you’re not as happy with your innerworld as you might like to be. Was I really mad at the couple, or upset at Big Rob’s death?

You don’t have to like the person pissing you off, thats not what I’m implying, but it might be a good call to ask what good your inner anger is doing you. Or, equally valid, what its doing for those that have to deal with you, Oh, and for those that do love you.

The more love we’re able to give the more we’re capable of receiving. Compassion goes a long way to helping love those that we might not actually like, as it reminds us that we are all made of the same stuff. We’re all bound by one self– one huge love.

Bring awareness to all of your actions, and love openly.

Watch what happens.

I love you.

From the NYT Article, “A Yoga Manifesto“:

Yoga is definitely big business these days. A 2008 poll, commissioned by Yoga Journal, concluded that the number of people doing yoga had declined from 16.5 million in 2004 to 15.8 million almost four years later. But the poll also estimated that the actual spending on yoga classes and products had almost doubled in that same period, from $2.95 billion to $5.7 billion.

“The irony is that yoga, and spiritual ideals for which it stands, have become the ultimate commodity,” Mark Singleton, the author of “Yoga Body: The Origins of Modern Posture Practice,” wrote in an e-mail message this week. “Spirituality is a style, and the ‘rock star’ yoga teachers are the style gurus.”

Well, maybe it is the recession, but some yogis are now saying “Peace out” to all that. There’s a brewing resistance to the expense, the cult of personality, the membership fees. At the forefront of the movement is Yoga to the People, which opened its first studio in 2006 in the East Village on St. Marks Place, with a contribution-only, pay-what-you-can fee structure.

Lets make a few things really, really clear:

• Yoga on a mat without intention is simply exercise (albiet good exercise).
• Being an adept teacher (regardless of craft) does not automatically make someone a style icon but it will make that teacher a shaper of impressionable minds.
• Being free doesn’t mean being better, nor is the inverse true.
• Identifying with a teacher is not a bad thing, never has been, and it should come as no surprise that good teachers become well known.

So, what does it matter if you enjoy doing yoga in $108 yoga pants? It doesn’t.

What does it matter if you prefer sandy beaches over Manduka PVC? It doesn’t.

What does matter? Your attachment to these things. Me and my water bottle alone have no bearing on you as a yogi, but how YOU relate to me and my water bottle does. Luckily, if you practice yoga on the mat with good intention, you’ll be prepared to practice off the mat, too.

Pardon the platitude, but: practice, and all will come.

Yoga is a mind game, a breathing exercise, a way to prepare ourselves to be better for what lies ahead. That said, if you’re confronted by a sexy ass in a pair of something lulu, or caught up in envy of the mat (or pose, or person or…) to your left, you’ve been given some excellent obstacles to overcome in order to enrich your real yoga practice. Your own indignation is a reflection of the work that lies ahead for you.

This whole article struck me as indignant.

The goal, the main aim of (what I believe to be) true yoga is to stop the fluctuations, the churning, of the mind.

With the right intention you can charge how ever much you want for whatever you want and pay as little or as much as you want for whatever you want and it is yoga.

Everything else is yoga-based exercise.

It is the mission of Mid City Yoga (my company, for which this blog is a joyful supplement) to bring what I believe to be a transformative, ancient practice to new places and spaces. I’ve been calling it guerrilla yoga for the past few years, but in reality, its just another name for the same thing: yoga.

So, what does this have to do with finances?

At the end of the day, wear what you want. Do yoga on what you want. And do yourself (as well as the universal self of which we are all a part) a favor and don’t judge others for preferring to do their practice how and where they care to– whether its on a statue in the middle of a circle, in a pay what you can class at the end of the block, or in a mirrored room at the Sports Club LA with a private teacher and a $900 water bottle. Seriously, dude, just get out and practice.

Two more quick facts:

• Jealousy ain’t cute
• The paths are many, the truth is one.

Now, in regards to the “rock star” yogi business… well, I’m a teacher, and I have people who like my pedegogy. Call me biased, but I’m glad for that. I love sharing my practice, and couldn’t do that without my students. The very same students who, not so incidentally, challenge me daily. I take pleasure in seeing my students progress in asana as well as seeing their world views shift based on their realizations fostered by simple mat-bound exercise set.

I would not be upset if more people wanted to share with me.

I have worked with many excellent teachers (including the aforementioned Bryan Kest), but I have very few people for whom I allow the term teacher to take reverence. Kristen Krash and Kristina Maze have both been very instrumental in my development as a man, a yogi, and a teacher for very different reasons. We have a relationship that is commonly called a parampara. Don’t worry if the term is new to you, it simply denotes a teacher who teaches a student directly from a specific lineage.

My paths?

BKS Iyengar to John Schumacher to Kristen Krash to Me.
Swami Sivananda to Swami Vishnu-devananda to Kristina Maze to Me.

Would I call either lady my guru? Probably not, because much like the term parampara, that word has some boogidty-boo baggage with which I’d care not to associate directly. Perhaps its the American in me, but whatever. I’ll confess I’ve got hang ups around the notions of a guru.

A better question: would you call Iyengar or Sivananda rock stars? I’d call them world renowned teacher. I’m hard pressed to relate them to the Beatles, Lars Ulrich, Madonna (as much as I love her), or Robert Plant.

Is it really this articles assertion that their is a movement suggesting you knowing who my teachers have been (or heck, just knowing I’m going to be yours) make me less effective?

I don’t think so. I would argue the opposite but again, the paths are many.

One last thing: I practice, in my personal life, the yoga of syntheis.

From wiki:

Swami Sivananda’s approach to Yoga was to combine the four main paths – Karma Yoga, Bhakti Yoga,Jnana Yoga and Raja Yoga …. This is reflected in the motto of the society that he formed, The Divine Life Society…. “Serve (Karma Yoga), Love (Bhakti Yoga), Meditate (Jnana Yoga), Realise (Raja Yoga).” In his own words, “One-sided development is not commendable. Religion and Yoga must educate and develop the whole man – his heart, intellect and hand.”

Back to the money: Serve comes first.

I know we shouldn’t expect free things everywhere, but if you have a teacher not giving of themselves selflessly somewhere (in some way), then I’m hard pressed to believe they’re practicing fully off the mat. No judgement, just seems like common sense. Selfless service, Karma Yoga, is an essential part of a practice.

As I enjoy teaching (and might be better at it, than, say, collecting trash), I find that my volunteer hours are often well spent doing just that. So, it comes as no surprise to me that their are free classes all OVER the place. And you would be well served to take one. Just remember to give back, too. Teach your nephew wheel or something.

Practice yoga in line, in Stroga, and in the sack. Yoga everywhere. Yoga anywhere.

Everyone will be better for it, and it doesn’t have to cost a dime.

During the super sweaty and grunty high intensity portion of today’s CrossFit workout, we worked in two heats. I found myself in the second heat, and subsuqently was able to observe other people doing what I was about to go do– and the free few moments to wonder why I was about to put such a great set of physical demands on my body.

But then soon it was my turn, and soon I was done. And before even that? The thought had passed. As I read this evening, I came across some words that answered the question I had forgotten:

“We are still animals — our physical existence is, in the final analysis, the only one that actually matters. A weak man is not as happy as that same man would be if he were strong. This reality is offensive to some people who would like the intellectual or spiritual to take precedence. It is instructive to see what happens to these very people as their squat strength goes up.”

-Mark Rippetoe

I think he’s right. I am happy.

Have you ever sucked in your gut to create that creepy too-big-rib-cage effect? Then odds are good you’ve used a muscle called the Transverse Abdominus. The TA is an important link in the deep kinetic chain of the body that allows for power from the low body to relate and transfer into power for the upper body (and vice versa) via increased stabilization in the pelvic girdle (and how it relates to the shoulder girdle).

As many of you know, I spend a ton of time throwing heavy stuff over my head– like, um, my body. If I want to improve, how do I go about it? Accessing the TA. It’ll seem obvious when I say this, but bear with; the more consolidated the core, the more control we have in all sorts of actions (olympic lifting, handbalancing, keg-standing).

Think about your core:

What do we have hiding underneath the skin?

First, the obvious:

• The big-sexy-six pack: aka the up-and-down rectus abdominus.
• The Side-abs: the external obliques.

These guys are all associate with torso flexion. They allow the body to “crunch.” Thats all well and good, but it doesn’t neccesarily speak to stablizing during the “crunch” or, heck, any other activity that might require you to not wobble (I think I can think of a few).

Much like my friendship networks of yore, the stable buddies can sometimes go less noticed in leiu of the louder (erm, less “stable”) friends.

Who handles the stabilization, then? The less obvious nonsuperficial muscle:

• The internal obliques: You can think of them as Patrick Swayze’s hands on Baby’s torso during the lift scenes. They function like that, cradling and lifting. The fibers of this muscle run perpendicular to their external brethren.
• The multifidus: Weaves along each disk of the back, and works to stabilize the joints at each segmental level. The stiffness and stability makes each vertebra work more effectively, and reduces the degeneration of the joint structures.
• The transverse abdominus: beneath those, we find a corset like muscle going around the bottommost portion of the spine (lumbar) and connecting all the way up to the low ribs.

When you draw the navel in towards the belly, you’re engaging your real core, your inner corset. The transverse abdominus contracts inwardly, bringing everything internal closer together. This is required for consolidated movement and efficient energy usage.

The multifidus is very small, but it has a unique design that lends stability to the spine , as well as working to keep you upright. When the multifidus is put on a stretch, as when you bend forward, it actually gets stronger. This is unlike most muscles which, when lengthened, lose their strength. The multifidus also brings space to the disks of the back, and brings the pelvis into a more powerful alignment for bigger (safer) actions.

The internal obliques are our same-side rotators. . It acts with the external oblique muscle of the opposite side to achieve this torsional movement of the trunk. For example, the right internal oblique and the left external oblique contract as the torso flexes and rotates to bring the left shoulder towards the right hip.

So how do we strengthen these good muscles and program ourselves to engage them regularly?

This method is super easy, but also not the most exciting thing in the world. Truth be told, at any given point, you can contract your transverse abdominus, internal obliques, and work your multifidus.

Egg Timer Method:

Draw in your innermost layer of abdominals without collapsing the chest. Draw up and in with the navel until the ribs splay, and then draw back in. Avoid slumping the shoulders. Imagine a zipper from the low back that goes to the navel, and zip it up, too. This will work the multifidus. Hold this contraction for 30 seconds. Repeat after a brief rest. Do this 5 times. Include one legged standing tilts (such as Warrior III in yoga). Repeat a few times a day. Next week make it 45 seconds. Third week? A minute.

String Method:

While drawing in the TA, tie a string around your midsection along the natural waist. For the rest of the day, every time you notice the belly flesh digging into the string, draw the belly back in. Do this consistently. Full disclosure: I haven’t done this yet.

The Benefits:

• a (dramatically) smaller waist line
• confidence in strength
• good balance
• safety in “big lifts” and “big jumps”
• decrease in low back pain

Here’s the rundown for the week of 4/18/2010 – 4/24/2010:

“Govindah” – Rasa
“Heart Skipped a Beat”- xx
“Exogenesis: Symphony, Pt 1″ – Muse
“Mas” - Nelly Furtado
“Young Folks (ministry of sound remix)” – Peter Bjorn & John Feat. Victoria Bergsman
“Exogenesis: Symphony, Pt 2″ – Muse
“One Step Too Far” – Faithless
“Exogenesis: Symphony, Pt 3″ – Muse
“Stars” – xx

Today in CrossFit we worked on a lifting technique that’s familiar to a lot of my friends. Not because they participate in functional training, but because it’s a little like what happens on Friday nights. No, not getting drunk and losing your car. Think dance floor: droppin’ it like its hot. Back Squats, you see, are (at the most basic) lowering your hips with your knees a little out, the back extended, and a bunch of weight resting across the back of your shoulder. You may have seen something like it in a rap video.

This isn’t going to be a post about how to squat– talk to a trainer for that kind of info (seriously: real life is so much different than what a even a good youtube video can prep).

No, today I wanted to talk about being honest with yourself.

If you don’t take your hips lower than your knees in a squat, you’re cheating yourself out of a huge strength gaining opportunity (isn’t that why we lift weights?) and even have the potential to lose some of our range of motion. Why would we allow that to happen? Because going all the way is, without question, harder.

Like many little white lies we tell ourselves, its easier to do just a little less, such as going just shy of breaking parallel in our squat. It makes things easier, you work less hard– but ultimately, whats the point? Wasted energy, and on top of that, a little bit of dishonesty, too.

Dishonesty, it would seem, comes in degrees. I mean, you’ll be able to knock out more squats, but are you actually “doing the work”? When tempted to do less than your best, remind yourself that “this is not useful.”

Then work to cultivate the opposite.

Why?

The yoga sutras say that as truthfulness (satya) is achieved, the fruits of actions naturally result according to the will of the yogi. If you desire to be better, and you really want to get what you want– you know real gains and real improvement– you gotta be honest with yourself.

Eschew the aesthetic or the illusion and go for whats real. Cultivate the opposite of dishonesty, reminding yourself when prompted otherwise that “this is not useful” and let a natural flow of goodness into your life that will also bear fruit.

On the mat, under the bar, or at the bar.

is so fucking sick of gender normative marketing! I want a god damn man sized kettlebell in (IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK) glitter pink! If you're gonna make it in a 5lbs size, make it in a 24lbs size, PLEASE!

successfully completed one one full clockwise revolution in mandalasana. Next will be a counter clockwise revolution.

can marry the man of his dreams right in his own backyard. What a marvelous, auspicious, powerful day!

is out on a snowy trek demanded by Sebastian Cole Hall... (in the middle of the night)...

saw Pink perform live at the 930 Club with AJ Livsey and it was the best live performance by a pop act I've ever seen. Kylie comes REALLY close. Think: Blonde Ambition Madonna.

's kick ass first real life human day of the New Year: 5.5 miles ran, kitchen, dining, and bathroom cleaned. In that order. Then dancin' & laughing with the boys (no drankin')! I'm in love with this day.

put on his long sleeved running gear and matching tights and feels like a fucking super hero. I'm takin' you on, Old Man Winter.

and Nathan just got done playin' hungry hungry Kirstas... I mean Hippos. Whatever. Semantics.

's Weekend Wee-cap: Bad Gay Bar Crawl, pretended to be a Kimono dragon, ate a black squirrel burger, danced with Malaysian Bankers, & risked white shorts commando. Then there was Champagne.

"The deepest craving of human nature is the need to be appreciated." -- William James. "The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings."-- Eric Hoffer

Lets see whats most revealing? I am tickled that "Donnie Darko" and "Catcher in the Rye" as well as Reading got such high marks amongst my friends.

The Radiohead is not unexpected. I am surprised, however, that I have so many gemini friends. Thats my sign 🙂

enjoyed his first weekend as a free man!

has officially started his peak performance project.

was able to roll his right hip down and tuck his tailbone down in an unsupported hanumanasana today!

wants to get out of his cave, man

was just told by a homeless man that he looks like John McCain

somehow managed to run 19.4 miles instead of 18.8. Cool.

has managed to run out of steam from all the fun. Boo-hoo.

is way less manic and feeling a lot better

is a little manic and a little worried. A tent on an island? Really?

is a little manic

is enjoying Manning Monday

is enjoying that normal woman look gigantic next to Posh

No posts in way too long.

Its winter, and not much is going on. The cold long months have been punctuated by trips to Florida for game show auditions, drunken adventures in the snow (Snow Day!), and driving through life with the cruise control activated. Its not the most exciting exsistance, but I'm enjoying it.

Anywho, I stole this stupid gay-get-to-know-you from someone else's blog. I've got time to kill before I head into the comedy coal mine, so....


1. have you ever had sex with the opposite sex? Yes
2. who is the first person you came out to? Robyn or Caroline. It was the same day.
3. are you out to your parents? Yep.
4. do you want kids? Not yet, if ever.
5. do you have more gay friends or straight friends? Straight, by far.
6. were you out in school? Out-ish.
7. is your best friend the same sex as you? I've got a couple, but, yeah, the one I see most often is.
8. if your best friend is the same sex, have you ever kissed them? Tried once, I was drunk and he's straight. It was one of those so-drunk-I-couldn't-stand type deals. It made a great, if mortifying, story the next day.
9. have you ever done crystal meth? yep
10. have you ever been in a sling? Unfortch, nope.
11. have you ever done a 3-way? Yes. I like they say "done" a three way. Something about that phrasing seems awkward and unexperienced.
12. have you ever dressed in drag? I've had a dress on but no make up. The side burns would ruin the mystique.
13. would you ever date a drag queen? Hahaha, only if we could do clown porn. I seriously can't see that happening. I like dudes.
14. are you a top/bottom or truly versatile? I don't know anymore. Lets say depends on the chemistry, but typically a bototm. Its a true as we're gonna get.
15. have you seen an uncircumcised thingy? Of course.
16. have you had sex with someone of a different race? Yes
17. have you ever barebacked? Yes
18. how many cher cds do you own? Who owns CDs? (I've got the greatest hits hiding in itunes somewhere)
19. name your first true love? Aww, Phoenix Robles.
20. do you still talk to them? When he's in town.
21. does size matter? I think bein' a big boy makes it easier to be better. But if you're a pro, and at least big enough to hit my prostate, my money's on no, that shit don't matter.
22. biggest turn on? Smart, sly eyes
23. biggest turn off? Fat.
24. ever been harassed because you are gay? Nothing so terrible that its ruined me as a person 🙂
25. worst gay stereotype that applies to you? Stupid question. I live up to a bunch of stereotypes. I <3 Madonna.
26. ever been to a pride rally? Yep.
27. would you marry if you could? Ugh. He'd have to be a real pick.
28. would you rather be rich and smart or young and beautiful? I'm already smart, young, and beautiful. I'm starting to think that this quiz was written by some queen troglodyte who got sick of eatting billy goats from under his bridge. Whateves, I'd still take cash if we're just givin' it out.
29. do you sculpt your eyebrows? Puja likes it when I do.
30. do you trim your body hair? Sometimes I shave in a landing strip from between my pecs down to my cock. Sometimes I'm a twink, sometimes I'm an otter! You never know what you're gonna get when I strip.
31. ever had sex with more than one person in a day? Yep.
32. ever been to an orgy? We didn't calll it that. Something about "orgy" screams "TACKY" and "STD." But, uh, yeah.
33. have you dated your best friends ex? Nope, but I have dated a best friend!
34. would you vote for hilary clinton if she ran for president? Vauge.
35. do you want monogamy in your relationship? It depends on the relationship. Some ships just aren't built like that. I want whats healthiest for me at the time.
36. do you believe in true love? Awww, sometimes. Sometimes, very much so.
37. do you have any tattoos? Yep
38. do you have any piercings? Yep.
39. would you date a smoker? Its not a deal breaker.
40. do you know anyone who has died from h.i.v.? Yep, though its not as though they've been in my inner circle or anything.
41. do you know what stonewall was? I feel like this troll penned quiz is veering into the lovely land of condecension.
42. wonder woman, xena, or the halliwell sisters? Am I a traitor to my dear, dear DC? Gimmie the Halliwels.
43. strangest place you have had sex? Ball pit at McDonalds?
44. strangest place you’ve woken up? Oh my god, really? A basement in Glover Park? My own fire escape? The roof of that art gallery?
45. are your best years behind or in front of you? It doesn't work like that.
46. favorite porn movie? An American in Prauge
47. are you in love now? Aww, if I am, its certainly not still healthy 🙂
48. ever been in love with a straight guy/girl? Nope, not a one.
49. did you ever have sex with them? I've got issues with turning the straights. It works to create a gay-tinged "black male rapist myth."
50. have you ever been to a nude beach? Can't wait.
51. have you ever been to a bath house? I can't quite bring myself to do it.
52. ever had sex in public? Superfun.

Oh, Trevis. If only I could apolgoize more. When your best friend died, all we could do was hold a moment in time for her. I was so selfish, I didn't get the gravity of losing a best friend, even one that had been so distant for so long. You lit some candles, and I couldn't comprehend your grief. We had been waiting for her to OD and die, or (barring that) some sort of other combination o' awfu. We all guesssed that it would eventually come, and none of us were shocked. And I thought my nontear stained face was okay.

And then my best friend died. And I've sobbed for her, but not in recent years.

But tonight I sobbed for Emily. Woe is the holidays, and I miss her. I'm gonna visit her grave for Christmas, I think, and I'll bring that bitch cookies. I never bake, but I will for her. I'll have Mark or Geoff supervise. I can't take it. I've never missed her more. I want to believe she'd be proud of the man I am.

Emily'd be so proud. She'd be angry that I ran a marathon, but share my bed nonetheless. Odds are good she'd wear the pajamapants she always wore (I haven't worn them out or thrown them away). I miss her so much. She'd call me out for days. She'd send me an awful IM.

I love the holidays, but, oh yes, I hate them too.

As a boy, I had trouble pronouncing my "r" sounds. Tookey was the best I could manage for a little while. I had trouble with my "s" sounds, too, but I reckon thats just commonly called a lisp. Thank goodness for speech therapy.

I had a great visit home, and a good weekend of work. I'm perfectly content with the way month has gone. Sebastian's still kinda worn out from all the rough housing with Ling, my parent's dog (once mine!).

Ugh, this is no great update, seein' as how I'm kinda hungover. I'm not cut out for heavy drinking three nights in a row anymore. Nope, nope, nope.

I totally ran a marathon on Sunday. I managed to run 26.2 miles in 4 hours, 9 minutes. Woo Woo!

Marine Corps Marathon.

What part of growing up means you feel less? I've lost track somewhere of how emotion places in the great race of life. When I was a freshman in college (hell, when I was a senior in high school) and Phoenix and I broke up, I thought I was going to die. I loved him so much. So very, very much. When Trevis and I ended things, I thought I had risked my life for him and deserved a better ending. I was so very naive, and so very, very young.

Age. Wisdom. Adult Emotion. They're not the same thing. It seems obvious, but it sometimes has to be said. Youth and naivity are intrinsicly different things, though they do frequently go hand in hand.

You haven't heard from me in the blogosphere in months because I've been dating. I've been actively seeing someone. I've been falling in love. And, my dear reader, as of now, it may be dunzo. I prefer to think it isn't. Without a sugar coat, things are very much undone and in the air. Over time, things may (and I hope they do) find a positive resolution that includes two people bedside.

I hope so. His name is Joshua. Josh Giamichae[l] to be exact, and one of the most amusing thing about him, to you my dear reader, is that he is (up till now) ungoogleable. Here it is. Find him on your whims-- this is his first post of placement. As of this hour, and on this day, I love a man. As cliches go, he's a good one to believe in. So, I'll ad hoc him into the 20 years from now stigma-- I expect to still love him for who he was to me. I (and here's how you know you love) hope that I still love him for who he is in 20 years. But for the here and for the present, I know a good man. I hope things work out for the best. I'm not sure what that is, but I've got faith it'll rear its head.

I've been gone because I've been chasing the ideals of love. I'm back now.

I plan on staying, love or no.

Up to R Street and over to Wisconsin, I jogged to Georgetown today. Two and a half miles from the lovely confines of my Logan Life, an Einstein Brothers resides. This was my third attempted trek to an Einstein's, the first resulting in a popped tire for Krista, the second landing Pam and I at some Punjabi Einstein Express inside GWU (on freshman move in day!), and this one finally proving fruitful. I felt truely Arthurian, seeking my salad-in-a-stone or holy grail, this time embodied in the leafy greens of a much coveted Jerk Chicken Salad (with mango vinegrette!). My hunt for salad felt epic. Gosh, I'm a dork.

I won't wax epicurian for terribly long, but the whole chunk chicken with the kickin' mango dressing, tossed with fresh pineapple, mango, and mandarin oranges made for a sweet summery treat. I'm glad I coupled it with the half sandwhich, in hindsight, because while tasty in its own right, I can see myself being disappointed with the actual heft of the salad. The Cali Club panini made it a well rounded occasion, and with all the extra dressing they politely put on the side, I was blessed with a sweet dipping sauce for the sometimes too dry panini.

So. Fucking. Good. Get yourself to an Einstein's while they last!

I've been catching up on Firefly over the past few days. Its been more and more enjoyable as its gone on, less cliched, and the characters seeming a touch more human. It gets the motor runnin' a little, knowing that there is a big budget flick to follow, and I think its a shame it was put to pasture early. Then again, maybe the flick will provide a fitting end. I'm in no real position to make such guesses, though, since I'm only like 5 episodes in. Thats less than half. I'm pacing out my episodes now so that I can watch the last two I have right before the newest repeat on Sci Fi.

In regards to television, I have Rome tivo'd but haven't watched it yet. I'm hoping its good-- I've been bombarded by some sort of urban viral marketing campaign for it all through my neighborhood. They've hung up flyers saying "Ever City Has Its Secrets" with a tear-off number for you to dial, much like a room for rent posting would have. When you call, it gives you some low-grade moviephone bullshit playing the opening sequence. It sounds just like that stupid friend of yours' voicemail when they play 50's "Candy Shop" or some such nonsense. Good campaign, lousy pay off. I hope the end product makes up for the thirty eight seconds of hell before I hung up.

We shall see.

I took Pam to her first Hookabar yesterday after Geoff, Tara, Pam, and I went to Asylum for 25 cent Tacos and Beer night. Mondays are good for the Tacos, and good for the 2 dollar Shiner Boch. Yum-o. Pam and I mellowed out over Double Apple Shisha and just kinda rapped to each other about all the bullshit swirling around in our heads. Satisfying, if not productive. But, the shisha high was fabulous, and I'm glad to know that there is a place to smoke some good tasties right in Adams Morgan. I really need to track down Omar.

The paparazzi have been out in full effect this week, but I haven't gotten the photos to share with ya'll yet. I'm a slacking bastard, mostly, and haven't followed through on the follow throughable. Whatever, they'll get here when they get here. The photogs snapped a click-click or two of Krista and Myself in various regalia ranging from matching deconstructed looks to daniel and I as Truman Capote and Cowboy Queer. Three guesses which I was. Krista's visit coulda gone better, the poor dear. Her tire blew out, we never found einstein bagels, and our appointments ran long.

On the bright side, we did make good in the fat-kid section of Target.

Ugh, couple the negatives with a fabulous Mother Dearest-y hissy fit I threw on Tuesday, and I'm a raging star of self abuse and self involvement. I've been less than 5x5 for the past week or so, kinda down, less than bubbly. I don't know why, exactly, but of course it means that I'm a bit distant and cold. As someone who is both warm and mean at the same time, its often hard for those around me to know that when I'm cold and mean, it has little to do with them. Thats gotta be hard to take, and kinda just plain wrong of me to ask. And of course, a good rule of thumb for that, don't add alcohol.

So, I've bundled up nicely. Bought some pot. Stayed in. Went dancing on Thursday. Spent the weekend stoned. Its been nice. Lots of television catch up, and time to take care of the sick puppy.

He doesn't know he's sick, but he is. He's got really bad diarreha and whatnot. It could be from all of the shots he got last Monday, but I don't know for sure. Daddy's worried, and taking him to the vet tommorrow if he doesn't have consistantly firmer stool throughout the day (it was better yesterday). I'd take pictures of that, but honestly people, me in a daisey dukes is a far better sight. And besides, wait 'till you see Seb in his superman t-shirt Daniel gave him-- soo f'n cute, you won't know what to do with yourselves.

I love the smell of spray paint. It harkens back to a younger era of me in the country, bein' bad. I can always tell when someone's done a really fresh tag or when they've marked up the sidewalks somewhere for maintanence-- it throws me back to Colonial Beach before they paved the roads. A smell that I know equally well is that of ganj, a scent that harkens back to, oh, I dunno, about twelve hours ago.

I got all Taint-y with Alex on Sunday, and she had to twist my arm to get me there. I was zonked the fuck out from working all week, and had it not been for her insistance, I wouldn'ta made it. We were gonna go for a little drinky-drink, a little dancey-dance, and then just be-out. Two Sparks later, I had found my energy.

If you ask Alex, she'll tell you it wasn't the two Sparks, but the two boys, who got me moving.

Oh yeah, Alex and I got taken home from Taint. The boys, Joe and Dave, were both service industry folks. Joe's a little older, maybe early thirties, balding but cute, with a personality that was too blunt to be called catty and to catty to be called blunt. Facial hair and gauged earrings, light skin and darker features, he just wasn't quite my type. He checkeed a few boxes on the list, but really, his lack of boyish charm, and my Kathy Oversaturation, somehow warded off whatever spell he wanted to cast on me.

Dave, on the other hand, was much closer to my age. He was also much closer to Alex's height-- and Alex isn't a spectacularly tall girl, by any stretch. Not quite a stepladder makeout, but closer to 5'8 than to 5'10. Great arms, dark hair, and a fun smile. Funny as it is, Dave barbacks at Saint Ex, and remembered my drink that I had ordered all of once. Dave was being the wingman for Joe, and asked the normal litney of questions. I didn't give the answer Joe probably wanted. Thats okay, 'cause I'm fairly sure I gave the answer Dave wanted.

Puppy kicking and cruisey gym humor later, we had both made each other laugh. We moved from family guy to adult swim, and then he fessed up to liking Teen Titans. I told him that I dug on the Trigon storyline, and he misheard Trigun. We had both succesfully outed ourselves as nerds.

He invited us over, and on our way out (to his car), he told me that someone had to take shot gun.

"Shotty," says me. Like duh.

Alex, Yama (a third in their circle), Joe, Dave, and I smoked a ton of pot and watched a coach bag full of TV. We laughed our asses off, and enjoyed more Kathy Griffin on Bravo. "...Not Nicole Kidman" is a scream, and comes recommended. I didn't end up with either boy's number, but I liked my sit-next-to-session with Dave on the couch. I feel like following up or something, but we'll see. Its the start of the work week.

oh, speaking of work, I went out on Monday and saw The Aristocrats with a bunch of heads from work. Since we work at the Improv, we got invited to the sneak preview session. Enjoyed it fully, but the best part was with the old batty bitches midrow couldn't take the vulgarity anymore and dipped. That alone was as funny as the movie.

I was cranky all day Monday, but made it through. Feruza Balk and Return to Oz helped. Six Feet Under didn't. The second anniversery of Emily's death came and went, and I didn't totally break down. I was just salty at strangers. I also went a-googling Emily's name, and found out that the truck driver who hit her totally got four years in jail. Mary Washington also established a scholarship in her name.... the funny thing? She wouldn't have qualified.

She'd drink to the irony of all that.

There has been a sketchy-scary in my neighborhood harassing me for about the past week. I'd say he's roughly 39, looks 29, and is hella ripped, if on the lean side. His body is developed enough, and he's shirtless in the neighborhodd enough for me to have noticed, that I can't imagine he got that way outside of a gym. I believe him to be homeless, and with that said, I see him three or four times a day. He's been threatening, verbally abusive, sexually offensive, and just downright scary on more than a couple of occasions. We've had a yelling match (or two) and for the past few nights I've carried my mace securely in my freehand, safety off.

I shoot off my mouth and have to back it up-- he doesn't get away with talking shit to me, but I'm not out to pick a fight. I don't want to get fucking stabbed.

Last night he apologized to me on my walk home from Geoff's. Weird. He thinks we run into each other too often to have animosity. I don't disagree, and appreciated the sentiment, even if I'm still scared shitless. How do you take something like that at face value?

You fucking don't.

We ran into each other once again today while I was out running errands. He asked me, "Do you wanna hook up?" "No," I replied, not into fucking those that scare me (excluding for now the empirical evidence that proves otherwise). "It doesn't have to be sexual," he countered, finally saying "Do you place chess?" I again answered no, and told him that those weren't the kind of things that I was looking for. He wished me luck on finding the things that I was looking for. I wasn't rude or standoffish-- He then hit me up for a dollar, and I gave it, pleased enough that I didn't feel as though he was an immediate threat any longer.

I say "immediate threat" without any sort of color coded Ashcroftian slant, but if there was one, I'd still say that we're on level lemon. I managed to make lemonade once, but I don't doubt that this could still end sour.

(photo lost to time)

So, the green pawed puppy and I spent the day running errands and being responsible. I bought myself totally tubular new sunglasses, as evidenced above. Tell me those aren't fabulous. On the way back from the gym, though, someone decided to torch their car. Rad.

Here's the proof.
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Later on Geoff swang by la chateau and reminded me that we'd been invited to a Happy Hour down at David Greggory's. Meg, Geoff's sister, was resposible for the invite, and of course I forgot. I shminked and then we booked it to Foggy Bottom. On our way there we ran into Merideth, an old roomie of Nelina and Fred's. As it turns out, Mer is a client of Geoff's... Her Corporate Executive Board to his Nortel. We all got along famously. Also in attendance were Rick (Meg's ex), Philip (Meg's Current), and PJ (Meg's old roomie of about 3 years). A friend of Shania's, Michael, was managing that evening. We chatted him up.

Adorable.

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Its so early, but I'm not to be pittied.

This is what time Sebastian Cole Hall wanted to get up and go for a walk-- I've had until 8:45 the past few days of the week, so this was a hair unexpected. The Medicine Man levels of rain going on right now have now twice thoroughly soaked Sebastian and me.

You take you good,
you take the bad,
you take it all,
and there you have,
the facts of life.

The Facts of Life. Oooh, Charlotte Rea! You're gettin in the way of telling 'em about my gorgoues, sweet 9 week old American Coonboxer. My sexy, sexy man of dog came into my life on July 5th, the same day that quit smoking.

May I present to the world Sebastian Cole Hall, King George Pound Puppy Extraodinaire!

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Is this even cohesive? God, I'd proofread, but its so frickin early. The puppy didn't go poo, so I have to go put him back in his C-R-A-T-E for an hour before we can try again. I wish it weren't cold out, so I didn't have to wear the sweater. You'll be seeing more pictures of the adorable doggie soon... that photo up there just doesn't do my cutie pie puppy dog justice.

New subject, before I conpletely square out.

I went dancin for a tiny bit last night and when I came home, even my asymerical vinyl tie felt a little more soaked through than I'da thought possible.

Oh yeah, and I have fourth of july stuff to talk about, too. But I'm three different ways of tired. Maybe in an hour I'll post again, once the puppy is done pooing. I'll get back to ya'll-- the puppy crapping and my writing's promptness are directly proportional.

Okay, back to bed. Arf!

Mark and I shook out the shag rugs today. On my corner. You have to go outside for an event like that, regardless of where you live, but in the country its much easier. Your back yard distinctly belongs to you and only you, but here in the district my back yard is the neighborhood’s posh grocery store. People get uglypissed when they’re attacked by dirt launched from what looks like a dead llama being beaten by a fag in the middle of the sidewalk.

Fuck ‘em. Fifteen shaken, beaten, dirty lookin’ minutes later, and I had clean carpets.

My apartment’s now a cohesive whole, if you couldn’t tell from the shag-shakin’ anecdote. I highly recommend looking in my windows should you find yourself on the yonder side of P or 14th. You can see a giant glowing “M” coming from my bedroom. I hung, oh I dunno, about eighteen feet of super bright rope light behind a 6 foot asian rice curtain that’s stuck to the wall about 14 feet up… so, now everyone’s left with my monogram starin’ up Northwest. It feels good, and is also incredibly, absolutely self important. Word.

I’m no longer inhabiting the Apartment Rowanda—its blossomed. Its all fourteenth amendment up in here, reconstructions going down right here on fourteenth street.Yah, Le Chateau de Ghetto is now a little more chateau, and a whole lot less ghetto. I’ve got curtains, the floors are mopped and the art is not only on the walls, but in frames. Carpets are clean, surfaces are dirtless, furniture is matching, and I’m even cooking in (though, that has more to do with the weight of my wallet than with the allure of local eateries).

I wish my apartment were more of a physical avatar for my inner feelings, ‘cause then my head’d be feelin a little less messy. Unlike my carpets, I still feel weighed down by something. Even going to the gym and going tanning feels like a chore. Maybe its me that needs to be taken into the backyard for a good pounding, ‘cause my sex drive is nill. I’m left to wonder, of course, whether its me that’s down about my sex drive or my drive that’s responding to me. Chicken or the egg, kiddies?

Ugh, listen to me. ”Who is it that I want? And why don’t they want me?” Lord. Sorry to go all Joey Potter on you, but it’s a problem. And that’s prescientology crooked smile Holmes, not the arm candy to crazy couch surfing superstar creature that the Star keeps telling me about. (No, I haven’t seen Batman Begins yet)

I could wax celebrepoetic all day on the vast neurosis of my inner angsterreha, but I’ll let it end here—for the time being. Only boys with boyfriends, both connected to the Improv, seem to want to flirt openly. I can’t (with a clear head) go a nookie-nooking behind some dudes back knowingly. Its just yuck-o. I should totally just go get cats and take up knitting. Uuuugh, I actually already know how to knit. I’m halfway there. Sidebar—Trev, who I learned how to knit with, got a hold of me this week. We chatted. I don’t trust myself not to cry at the end of our instant messages, and I secretly loathe myself for that. I haven’t yet cried, and odds are good I never will, but oooooh if my shrink were here….

Enough, enough, I said I’d stop.

Shits good. The world’s calm. This is no hurricane’s eye, there is no monsoon approaching. Its just stability. Stability is new and really, really scary. Terrifying. Setbacks give you a reason to sprint, and forward momentum is exhilarating, but stability feels way too much like attrition. You wanna know something else about stability? Its boring as fuck. Yah, uh huh, you heard me-- it’s totally not at all interesting. I’m really surprised you’re still here.

Lemmie see if I can figure out something good to tell you. What is interesting right now? Lauren’s gone to San Fran for the week (its pride!), Geoff’s in Boston (for training), and I’m workin’ every show this week at the club. Erin had her Birthday last night at the Ugly Mugg, and I now dig the fuck outta Eastern Market. I had a phenomenal time. JD wasn’t there, but that’s okay, cause I think he and Nelina deserved some good nookieing in their new place (which is in Erin’s building, overlooking Meridian Hill Park). Kelly is back from South Korea, and I’m stoked to see her. The neighbors got a new kitten that’s taken to shitting in their laundry basket. I almost got the kitty, but I decided against it since they liked him, too. If he’s shitting in laundry baskets, maybe I made the right call (but I do want one!).

What else? I worked on my resume and sent it out to a variety of Craig’s list ads in the marketing, PR, and promotions section, and what do you know? Someone’s interested in me. The gigs for coordinating and creating events for a GLBT crowd at straight bars. Bring it the fuck on. I’ve spent so much freakin time getting bombed at the Hunt, the Fox, and the Front Page instead of JRs and the Fireplace, and now I get to refer to all that time as research and interning. Bitchin.

Back to my internship.

[setup]I saw this great little movie that a few people have been talking about...[/setup]

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So, ya, Mark and I made it to the midnight screening of Star Wars on Wednesday night. I wasn't super duper impressed, but then again I'm not a Star Wars Junkie. Shiny pretty glimmering funshows always hold my interest, and if I were stoned, I'd definatly watch it again; high praise for someone who thought the first two of these steaming digital dogpiples were nigh on unwatchable (even during the shiny pretties). I'm hunching that if you really dig the heck outta the original 70's SW, you're gonna bust a geek nut all over this one.

Midnight screenings always bring out a hodgepodge of folks, and lets be blunt: Star Wars fans are wook-tarded. I could link my little heart out just showing you a small percentage of that point fifteen times this way of tuseday, but I had my own little bit of asshattery right here in the District. Some drunk bitch totally caused a scene.

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Not only that, get this, the bitch totally had to be escorted out with the aid of two managers, a handful of security guards, and even an undercover cop. After she was thrown out, her toolshed boyfriend didn't bother to leave or even see if she was okay. He stayed for the show. Can you blame him?

In the web of all things leaving, I've now left Bertucci's. No more chain pizza for me. We'll see what happens between me and the day job scene. The money lost, while certianly not entirely negligable, isn't make or break for me. This should prove to be a good oppertunity for new things-- outside of the resturant service industry. I guess I'm going to have less friday nights free for a while, but far more long nights out. This could prove fun.

I've been swirling around the month of May in a cloud of happiness and self reflection. I'm now 22 (22 on the 22nd), the same age as all the oldest "older man" from my dating days. I'm Trevis's age, ya know? Thats a little weird. Also a little cool. As a boy told me this week: Welcome to The Race for 30.

Yesterday was indeed the birf-day, if you happened to check the date, and it went off swimmingly. I spoke to all sorts of peeps on the phone, and I did some spring cleaning with Geoff-- good lord if le Cheatu de Ghetto didn't need it. We got it to a state of presentability that worked for a small soiree. In the evening, Miss Lauren, Pam [from Hawaii], Geoff, Nills, Lee, Alex, and Derrick[Alex's Twin] stopped by.

Oh, girl. Lots and lots of good chat-- we left the telecrack off all evening. It was totally a "That 70's Show" pana-rama-cam type o' night. Beers, Rum, Joints, Jokes, Bongs, Stories, and Bowls. Chatting and chilling for hours

The world is good, ya'll. So good, your find your imagination in high gear, and the urge to
tie a towel around your neck and run around a friends apartment overpowering. Being young and full of wonder is still okay, too.