The hardest part of writing a new column for elephant journal is figuring out what to write about next. All I know is, if the last piece was super snarky, polarizing and/or “bitter and arrogant” (not my words—that came from a lovely comment someone left me), then the next one should be a little more sweet and light. All a girl can do is try.
It’s past midnight on a Friday night. I have my dog and plenty of bottled water. And sometimes, when I’m getting started on a new piece, I dare myself to be totally honest and let it all bleed, just to see what would happen, and… shocker! I’m already totally distracted.
Maybe I’ll change my screen saver.
I used to have the ring tone with the whistle song, but it scared the shit out of me and everyone else whenever my phone rang. It’s called Twisted Nerve (no surprise), from the 1968 movie of the same name. A smart person was paying attention, and left this comment on YouTube: “i think the worst way to stealthly chase someone is to whistle beautifuly and loudly right behind them, just saying x)” You don’t even have to be a murderer to know that.
Maybe I’ll… look in the fridge. Or… watch The Forty-Year-Old Virgin. Again. Or… edit some stuff my friend and I shot yesterday for a yoga video we’re doing. Have you ever seen one of those very flowery, artful yoga photos from a certain photograper who just loves to shoot beautiful women doing “wild thing” on a rock in the middle of the desert? These femmes are invariably draped in brightly colored chiffon flowing in the breeze, because—here I explain the metaphor—that’s how yoga makes them feel, like, on the inside, breezy and open-hearted…. Maybe you’ve seen photos of them in Warrior 2 at the beach or some other inspiring setting, like a street corner in New York City.
This is none of that, not even close. There’s no freakin’ chiffon anywhere. No offense.
Here’s the thing (and a few more): I really don’t know what yoga is, what it’s trying to tell me, what it’s supposed to be or what it is to you or anyone else who has come before me. I’m struggling with it. Attaining enlightenment seems as likely as opening a scrumdiddlyumtious bar and finding a golden ticket, which actually won’t ever happen because that was a movie.
An example of usage from the Urban Dictionary: mmmmm… your mom was scrumdiddlyumptious. Jeez, in my opinion, the person (obviously a guy) who wrote that just might be a little bitter and arrogant? Or the guy is just doing his job, which is writing interesting stuff.
I don’t know if I can keep the next one sweet and light.
Also, I don’t know why, but the song “Killing Me Softly” is stuck in my head. I’ll probably end up playing some variation of it when I teach my 12:30 class tomorrow.
One piece I started for elephant, “(I Think) I’m An Atheist” is waiting. I’m pretty sure it ain’t gonna to write itself, but that one needs some thought.
Today was my dad’s birthday. He would have been 82. He liked to whistle.
People who are bitter and arrogant don’t wear frilly white dresses.
You wanna know what doesn’t have to wait? “You Say You Want A Revolution? Shut Up & Pose.” Yup. Help me, peace loving people—what’s your favorite yoga pose? This is gonna be fun. ❤ ❤ ❤