Archive | January, 2010

Foot or fromage? It’s a fine line.

31 Jan

In my last post, I mentally apologized to my fellow yogis for things like garlic breath and over-exposed breasts. Well, tonight it was refreshing – not really – to find the shoe on the other foot: I spent the greater part of my hour-long practice wondering if the girl next to me knew she smelled like a cheese wheel, and if so, if *she* was mentally apologizing to *me*.

Perhaps I should qualify that. I say she smelled like a cheese wheel, and I’m sure you’re thinking, “What, exactly, does a cheese wheel smell like, and how do you know?”

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I’ve got your “loving kindness” right here…

29 Jan

I’ve been practicing yoga regularly for two years now. True yogis use the word “practice” because it’s part of the yoga lingo, but I use it because it’s actually kind of accurate for me; I’m not very good at it, so I simply practice, with the hopes of one day mastering it.

Anyway, tonight I found myself doing something that’s becoming increasingly common for me – mentally apologizing to my fellow yogis on my way to the studio. Tonight’s reason was simple: I’d swum right after work, then somehow scored rockstar parking in front of the Amersterdam Falafel shop in Adams Morgan (karma?) on my way home.

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Yes, Obi Wan

28 Jan

This week at our leadership meeting, we had a few attendees from our international markets. Two observations:

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You buy, I fly?

27 Jan

I’m in Boston for our annual leadership meeting. Tuesday night, after a long day of meetings and workshops, we had dinner and drinks at Sel de la Terre, a hip French bistrot in Boston’s Back Bay. The food was great, and drinks were flowing generously. If I had one kir royale, I had five, so I was pretty buzzed up when our party bus pulled out at 8pm.

(I’m not exaggerating when I talk about a party bus… check out The Original Party Trolley if you doubt me.)

We were deposited back at the hotel around 8:30. I had every intention of going to my room, taking a bath and calling my boyfriend. Really, I did.

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Bumpy Free Bird

25 Jan

My flight to Boston was pretty empty today. I had an entire row of six seats to myself. Someone in the row ahead of me commented, “Seems like First Class is more crowded than the rest of the plane. For once we have better leg room back here.” He was right.

Maybe it’s because the plane was more empty than usual, or maybe the guy behind me lacked an “inside voice” but for whatever reason, it sounded like a megaphone was hardwired from his mouth to my ear. He shared a row with a stranger, but he took the opportunity to introduce himself to his seatmate and share his various achievements with him – and the entire rear section of the plane.

Make no mistake: he was very important.

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