Warrior Princess

August 9, 2016

Grunt Boy

Filed under: Assholes, Uncategorized, yoga — ggirl @ 4:06 pm

wolf eyes“When you catch yourself slipping into a pool of negativity, notice how it derives from nothing other than resistance to the current situation.”
Donna Quesada, Buddha in the Classroom: Zen Wisdom to Inspire Teachers

After yoga class today, I found myself walking down the stairs behind Grunt Boy.  I slowed down as we approached the door, desperately looking for a way to avoid hitting the door at the same time.  Oh fuck there’s no way to avoid it.

So, of course, here it comes.  “How do you like our new yoga teacher?”

Oh okay.  Goddamnit.  Fine.  “I really like her.”  I kept my voice absolutely cold.  Here comes the Southern politeness training.  “How about you?”  Any idiot could see I had absolutely no interest whatsoever in his thoughts on this subject or any other.

Fortunately, we had reached the end of the sidewalk.  I veered off in a direction that would never get me to my car, but would certainly get me away from Grunt Boy.  “Have a great day.”  In my famous friendly-impersonal tone of voice.  I waved.

Grunt Boy made some disappointed response.  I guess he thought we were going to stand around in 102 degree heat and talk about down dog or something.

I’m going to have to face the face that I’m a long way from yogi and a very long way from Buddhist.  I have some new yoga classes in a new venue this week.  If the universe had any sense, this kind of thing would never happen to begin with.



There’s Always One, Even in Yoga

Filed under: Assholes, yoga — ggirl @ 3:22 pm

wolf eyes“Undisturbed calmness of mind is attained by cultivating friendliness toward the happy, compassion for the unhappy, delight in the virtuous, and indifference toward the wicked.”
Patañjali, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali

Tuesday morning yoga class, there he is–the lone male in the group.  He’s an old guy (by which I mean somewhere in my timeframe, maybe a little older) who manages, every single time, to harsh my yoga-mind.

Problem one, he grunts and groans while performing asanas.  There are at any time 10 to 15 practitioners on your average Tuesday morning.  We are all women, except for one (old) guy who doesn’t seem to be showing up anymore.  And the remaining annoying one.  Aside from him, no one ever feels the need to grunt or groan.  No one.

Problem two, he seems completely unable to master getting the props back into the storage room (about the size of a small walk-in closet).  One of the props we use is a strap.  Proper storage procedure, roll up strap into a coil.  Everyone. Ev.ry.one manages to get that done before entering the closet.  Not Grunt Boy–he waits until he’s in there and then meticulously rolls up the strap.  Sometimes he must do it twice.

Meanwhile, the rest of us patiently wait for him to stop being special and get the hell out of the closet.  I am perhaps slightly more annoyed.  I’ve rolled my eyes at him several times as he’s exited.  I try to rush in there before he has a chance to hog the close area but inevitably he sashays in and eats up all of my personal space.  Every single bit of it.

There goes my savasana calm openness.  I watch myself breathe.  Nope.  Not working.  I allow myself to be irritated and watch that.  How does that feel?  It feels fucking distracted and like my blood pressure is zooming up to 179/120.

Today was a very, very special day with Mr. Grunt.  But more of that later.


November 5, 2014


“We like lists because we don’t want to die.”  ~ Umberto Eco

I keep lists.  They’re not formal and they’re not written down, but they’re available any time I need them.  I only need them when I’ve another list item to add.  My current lists include


Books I’ve read or should read.

New and exciting interests I should pursue.

People who’ve committed suicide.

People who have family and friends who’ve committed suicide.

Good ways to die.

These days the Good Ways To Die list has been getting the most attention.  Whenever I learn of someone who’s died without advance warning or suffering, I pencil it into the list in my brain.  Dying in my sleep (like one of Hubby’s friends).  Losing consciousness in an airplane which has lost cabin pressure. These are the latest, but there are definitely more.

As far back as my twenties, I recognized list-making is frequently a form of magical thinking.  I had a friend who shared with me the types of wrinkles she found tolerable and those she didn’t want.  It was almost as if, by giving voice to these preferences, they became incantations. If we say it, then it must be under our control.  Of course her incantation was futile.  Time wins.

No need to address my first two; they’re fun lists I may feel some guilt about not making greater progress with, but they evoke far less emotion than the others.  Lately the Good Ways To Die schedule has seen a lot of action.  No need to enumerate them here.

I don’t actually not want to die. I’d just prefer to control the how of it.  I’m certain Death is highly amused.  that’s okay.  I’m keeping the list anyway.


March 5, 2010

Whoever You Are, Stop It

Filed under: Assholes — ggirl @ 1:30 pm

I was drawn back to my blog by an email informing me that someone tried to change my password.  Whoever you are, stop it.  What is your problem?  Feel free to leave me a message if you have something to say.

If this is my old friend, Stephanie, I would definitely like to share my thoughts with you, so get back to me if you’re the one.

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