Contemplating facebooklessness

Facebook in general and the new profile specifically conflict with my ongoing (although newly embarked upon) quest for egolessness. I have only a rudimentary understanding of the concept of egolessness, but hope to learn more as most of my suffering (and yours too) stems from the ego.

Through egolessness, we realize that we are not our things, we are not our jobs, we are not the schools we went to, we are not the cars that we drive or the bikes that we ride. In fact, we come to realize that the struggle to define ourselves, to figure out who we are, to find ourselves is so goofy and unnecessary. If we let go of the ego, there goes the struggle. Poof. It’s gone, and now we are free to attend to the present moment.

Facebook’s new profile asks us to define ourselves in a snapshot that places undue emphasis on jobs, schools, spouses, siblings, and physical location. Although it is quite possible that I would feel differently about the new profile if I loved my job and wanted to tell everyone what I am doing or if the mere mention of me having gone to law school didn’t make me nauseous, I prefer to offer egolessness as the reason for my opposition to the new profile.

Although I am studying for the bar exam and have no business being on facebook, let alone blogging about its shortcomings, I keep my account active because I like it when people post pictures of me doing interesting things with attractive people. Egolesssness has its limits.

Least favorite things about yoga

-smelling other people's farts
-seeing other people's g-strings

I'll admit the first one goes with the territory, but not the second one.

Blast in my pants

Cantaloupe Mylk



Watermelon Smoothie


Last night I dreamt about eating those pink iced animal crackers and the pumpkin shaped candy corn like candy. In real life, I woke up at 3:40 am and pooped. The reason that these things are worth noting is that I am doing a cleanse this week. Yesterday was the first day. For breakfast, I ate cantaloupe mylk (blended cantaloupe...so frothy and yummy). For lunch, I ate a salad and exotic fruit cereal (blended banana poured over seeds from 1-2 pomegranates with some berries thrown on top). For dinner, I ate vegetable paella (a cauliflower and olive mixture eaten over red and green peppers marinated in tomato celery lemon cayenne sauce). Day one was delicious and fun. I am doing the Make it Real Make It Raw Detox Blast, led by Thomas from my old yoga studio in Lincoln and his friend Rachelle.

A dear friend is also doing it so it is fun to compare notes, body temperatures, farts, and bowel movements with her. It is too bad we don’t live in the same city to eat our delicious food together.

I imagine doing something like this wouldn’t be so fun doing it alone. It’s nice to know there are nearly 400 people all over the world (okay, probably just Europe and North America) who are doing the cleanse.

Why am I doing it? Because it is happening. Because it is free. Because I miss doing yoga with Thomas in the mornings and he has created little yoga videos for us to do first thing in the morning. Because, as I’ve confided in some of you, some sort of shift occurred recently and a cleanse feels like a good capstone to this shift. I think it is either (1) Saturn has come home (unlikely, I think I have a ways to go yet) or (2) I am settling into life and it is good. Something happened with this shifting and I let go of all of these goofy things that I was holding onto with white knuckles. I didn’t even decide to let go...I just did and things became so much easier.

Another reason why I decided to do the cleanse is that I have largely given up (for now) alcohol, coffee, and cigarettes due to the previously blogged about affliction. Also due to the affliction, I stopped running about two months ago so I have none of the reluctance that I might normally have to do something like this because of its impact on my running.

Thomas and Rachelle have provided us with a list of responses to the cleanse, but they didn’t address my greatest concern. What if I become obnoxiously self-righteous? Even more so than I already am?

Affectionately dedicated to my affliction

I’ve been bored for most of my twenties. I’ve been dreaming up alternate realities and beating myself up for not living them. I’ve been staring in the mirror. I’ve been trying on clothes. I’ve been running. I’ve been wondering what other people think about me. I’ve been thinking about my legs, my stomach, and proper skin care. I’ve been rough on myself and others.

But then it all stopped, no thanks to my yogic efforts to live in the present, be grateful, be mindful, etc etc etc. I got mono. My tonsils got so swollen I could not swallow and I had to go to the ER. All I could do was lay in bed and watch Mary Tyler Moore. I nearly died. (That’s not true, but it makes for a better story. The only thing potentially fatal about mono is that your spleen gets so enlarged that it becomes highly vulnerable to explosion upon impact. Contact sports are discouraged.)

The best part about mono for me has been witnessing my body fail the way that bodies are supposed to fail when exposed to mono. I was alarmed to wake up one morning with shortness of breath, but then the internet told me this is a common symptom of mono. I was alarmed when my throat started to swell up again after a few drinks one night when I thought I was better, but then the internet told me that you shouldn’t drink for weeks after mono because your liver and immune system are so taxed and vulnerable, making a relapse likely. I am experiencing textbook mono. It makes me feel simple and plant-like. Mono has helped me be more gentle and merciful towards my body. I have lowered my expectations and will try to no longer rely so much on my physical body for self-worth. In the future, I will try to simply be grateful for proper functioning of all systems. I won’t worry so much about what the whole package looks like. Also, I will dump fewer toxins into it.

Another great thing about mono is that there is not much debate about the treatment. Just kick back seems to be the consensus. There is no one pushing antibiotics or other drugs on you, which means there is no one telling you about the harmfulness of these medications. There is minimal debate about whether or not to take pain relievers. Everyone seems to agree that rest, popsicles, juice, and ginger ale are the best way to beat mono. I’m going to rest the shit out of this shit.

(This post is just a teaser for the kick ass cancer memoir I will write one day.)

Rejected Facebook Status Updates

Melba is inserting her diva cup.

Melba just looked at all 538 pictures of you.

Melba just evacuated her colon.

Melba just found a piece of chicken (from last night’s dinner!) on her chin.

Melba delivered a beautiful, healthy baby girl at 5:43 am. 8 lbs, 2oz. Lots of hair and skin that is surprisingly dark in light of who we thought the father was.

Things that you can buy with dollars

Today, I started the day with a trip to the grocery store with my mother and found this:


Then I went thrifting. In addition to hitting the pants jackpot (3 pairs!), I found this:


Then I found myself with time to kill at the fancy outdoor mall and meandered into J. Crew where in addition to pre-torn jeans, you can find khakis, excuse me, chinos, that have been not only torn but speckled with white paint. That's right. For just $79.50, you can buy a pair of pants that has been torn and stained for you in advance for your convenience and style. This way, when you go to starbucks for your vente latte, your friends (the starbucks employees) might make a wisecrack about your dirty ol pants and you'll have the opportunity to explain that you're on a break from applying the primer to your guest room when the truth is that the guy you hired to do the painting is not on a break because you told him he could not take breaks.

Story of My Life

Not sure what this terribly written article is doing in the Washington Post today.

But basically it's the story of my life. Substitute "Melba" for "Delilah" and there you have it.

As in:

"Delilah's taste in men -- and people in general -- tends toward the needy."

"She won't talk about her current romantic life, but in her 2008 book, "Love Matters," she writes about finding love again with a motorcycle-riding man named Paul."

"The cream-colored walls are decorated with seven of her own headshots."

"From then on, her personal journey and professional one would rival each other in jagged edges of tumult and felicity."

Perhaps the death of long-form journalism isn't so tragic?