Creative Mindercising and Getting Arty

Lately I have been hopped up on the ideas of art and creativity and the way that they advance culture.  Now, some Boulderites are going to pull out their hair, stomp their feet, and possibly spit on the ground when they hear me say these next words: Boulder creativity is rather stale. I mean, broke in college, napping on the couch, see a Wheat Thin on the coffee table, bite it and chip your tooth. That stale.

Don't panic if you audibly hear something right now.That sound you are hearing is the collective gasp and a few shouts of "Heretic!" from the yuppie masses.  You can hear them clearly because they are all out on the patios, listening to the ambient drone of String Cheese, Wide Spread Panic, or OAR.  Drones of the jam band variety, occasionally peppered in with "Redemption Song."  Oh Bob Marley, if only you had known your lyrics would be displayed on so many luxury SUVs. 

I know there are creatives in this town who do art outside of political motivation;   who play music that doesn't make me want to cry as middle aged men and woman flail their arms and kick in spasms  dance on the Pearl St. bricks; who do not think that close up photography of columbines mixed with wild grasses are the highest form of art.  While those things can be nice for a mountain town or hippie vibe, I think that there is much more to be explored.  I think there are people who believe in art as a progress-or, and even occasionally the aggressor, when faced with ignorance or stagnant perspectives. I know that I do.

I'm going to start out on a creative mindercise regimen (because I'm not really a fitness writer, I tried, it ain't me babe).  There are a number of exercises, creative espresso shots, and inspiration-based blogs and forums that I am going to draw from to spelunk the funk in my brain.I have invited a few others to do this with me on a Facebook group page at this link. We have completed our first project: Create a flier of a typical day and post it around your neighborhood (or post it in the photos section of the group). I have to say, for such a simple and potentially one-dimensional assignment, the creative approaches and streams of consciousness that my friends produced was inspiring. It solidified my theory that there can be a resuscitation of the arts in our community.  I'm excited to see Boulder grow this into something, and then one day (oh please oh please!) Boulder can be known for something in addition to it's reputation as a liberal  (add to that, mmj) mecca.

Check out some of the art postings from this week, and if you would like to join our group, welcome pal.

**I only put a couple up here, to see the rest, visit the Facebook Group page...it may become its own blog in the near future... stay tuned Lovely People, stay tuned.

No Regrets

We've all been there.  Standing in the parking lot, peering into our bag as if we expect something new to materialize. We ask ourselves "Do I need this? Do I really need this?" And for most of us we shake it off, close the bag, and walk the rest of the way to the car.  Others of us allow the buyer's remorse to occur while standing in the produce section of the grocery store.  We say to ourselves "I do love the butter lettuce, but dangit if that iceburg head isn't going to save me 39 cents. What will I tell my friends when they find out I buy fancy lettuce?!" I wish I was joking.

Walk across the parking lot from the grocery store to a Broomfield tattoo parlor, and you'll see what I did this Saturday.  If I were able to title the event, it would be called "Valentines Day 2010: A Gift of Epic Awesomeness and General Badassery."  It is the most literal title available for my day.

It began with an email from my friend that went a little something like this:
"So, I think I'm going to act on a impulse and get [name changed]'s initials with a heart tattooed on my butt for Valentines (no, I'm not joking). I'll probably do this tomorrow afternoon or Saturday.
This is not the kind of thing I want to do alone."

and a thread continued on to the tune of:

"Ohmyhahaha that is amazing.  I will come hold you hand and laugh. At you."

"If it's less than 50....I could maybe be persuaded"

"I haven't quite convinced myself to actually go through with getting the tattoo.  Listen, it's not because it's against my religion or anything I just think it might hurt my precious baby butt."

 "guys I'm getting a real one. I'm getting an anchor because it looks like tyler's initials and more reasons.  But i'm doing it because if I don't do it right now, I'll chicken out again. Sorry to go emo."

and finally:

"I am so excited about this I could not sleep last night. I am totally in to get the name on the ass. Should we make an appt. somewhere?"

Translation: 5 married women with either jobs or children or both tattooing names/initials in hearts, on cheeks, for a gift. Yes, David, this is real life.

After an eventful night of marriage curses, phone calls, and text messages from a tattooist   man-child, we found our parlor, our price point, and our cover stories for our husbands for the afternoon.  A decoy meet-up at Target, a little caffeine, some Michael (Jackson, if you have to ask) and we were ready to the dang thing.

Does this story get better? Oh yes, yes it does.

We get to the Big Easy (real name) and are greeted by Paul, who would be our artist for the day and would proceed to tattoo the initials of my friend's husbands on to my friend's individual tushers, as my younger brother calls it.  One by one, each girl drew the heart and the initials (think of your high school notebook, but grown-up, very grown-up). Then we'd all giggle and coo around the chair our friend was laying in, effectively mooning each of us, and braid each others' hair to distract from the pain.There were a  few comments of  "At least it's not like a real tattoo," even though it most definitely was. It was the hipster version of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, or more like the Ya-ya Twisted Sister Hood. Holla Dee Snyder!


Once each of my friends were brandishing a hilariously wonderful Valentine's day gift on their ba-donks (it's amazing how many euphemisms I can think of for that body part), it was my turn.  I brought over my little drawing, and rolled up my sleeve.  Then, I braced for impact.  I might have asked a few times "This isn't a boy's tattoo right? Because I don't want to look at a boy tattoo everyday." I learned, that even girls can be sailors. Frick.

The gift reveal was a success, and despite being 2 hours late for our fancy V-day party, everyone was really stoked on the day. It was one of the best Saturdays I've had.  Even if I look at my arm when I'm 50, and say "what was I thinking?"  I'll remember the day and lighten up, because I still can't believe how much fun it was. Also, if I don't think it's awesome when I'm fifty, someone needs to remind me that I used to be fun, and had really, and I mean really, great friends, and I need to relax.

About the buyer's remorse.  Well, that was to be expected.  And as you can see, it is on my wrist.  My wrist that I see about 200 times a day.  My wrist that I can get way too close to my face and stare at every imperfect pore, not to mention not so straight lines or asymmetrical anchors.  I may go back and get it perfected, but I also may just leave it as is.  A souvenir from a day I went out-with one day's notice- with friends to get a tattoo in honor of my hub, that will also always make me think of them.

Ahoy mateys!

A Winter Rant Turned Beauty Blog

Hello lovlies and hi there splendids. I have to say sorry for my sporadic writing.  I gave my blog a little kiss of death when I included it in a New Year's resolution.  I mean, if you enjoy something giving it a deadline is kind of a fun-sucker.  Fun-sucker aside, I have been kind of going through a bog of sorts lately.  And I don't feel bogged down, oh no, I got to keep on moving.  I just feel like the past week or two I have been slogging through some grimy mud, and my attitude is less snarky and more bitchy cynical. Bo-ring. However, thanks to a solid stretch of time with some truly fabulous women this weekend, I'm feeling fresher than The Situation.

As I have mentioned on my blog ( here, and here) this winter is really full of itself. This winter is embarrassing Al Gore.  This winter makes me agree with Kenneth Parcell when he says "Global warming? Sorry, sir, that's just scientist talk." And yet, four months and 90 (gross) inches of snow later, we still have at least three months left of this windy, dry, dry, run.  Everything is dry. Just look at this current picture of me, and you will get the idea. I am researching and compiling a list of necessary items to carry on.

Here is what I have found so far:

 Hair Care- because it's too cold not to use a hair dryer.

•  It is hard to think about the tops of our heads when we think about moisturizing and skin care, but that's a whole lotta derm to ignore. Mix in hair styling products, blow dryers, and Colorado's climate, and whoo boy! If it were possible to use shea butter or jojoba oil directly in my hair, I would, but to my dismay (my utter delight) the emo look is finally going out. Luckily, I was recently told about Scalp Benefits shampoo from Aveda.  It moisturizes and balances the pH of your scalp as well as the roots of your hair.  In only a few uses, I can tell you this is my winter shampoo from here until I move to Hawaii -- which may very well be tomorrow. (I paired it with the Pure Abundance conditioner, so that I could still style my hair. Priorities friends.)
  
•  If your issue is hair damage due to the unfortunate fate that we face: going out in the cold with wet hair means you will be rocking a head of icy dreadlocks; then you should try a heat protecting product. Aveda Damage remedy has coconut oil and quinoa protein to restructure the straw-like strands that can appear this time of year (I used to love Therma-Silk, where for art thou?).

Skin Care - even alligator skin on shoes is heinous.

• I have taken to a bi- or tri- weekly exfoliating routine, and it's really made a big difference.  I have really sensitive skin, and so I am using a rice-based micro-foliant from Dermalogica, but I'm pretty sure that any exfoliation is good.
• Moisturizers have me stumped. This is actually the inspiration for the entire blog post. I have consulted a few estheticians about what kind of facial moisturizers are needed for this weather and have been told that "intensive moisture" is best.  Here are three I have read reviews on here, here, and here, but ultimately I am clueless. (Tell me your favorites in the comments section).

Other Remedies

• I have finally committed to drinking more water, and when I can't do the water I'm drinking more tea.  They say caffeine is a water usurper, and if they only knew how much coffee I drink they would probably give me a time out. Drink up.
• I have a humidifier in our bedroom and it is a total gem. My eyes and skin love me when I remember to use it.
• And if all else fails, blow your savings on a tropical vacation or join me in sending the National Weather Service emails asking them to turn the heat up.
  

P.S. I know global warming isn't a joke, but it doesn't mean I don't think it's funny to always reference it.

P.P.S. I use CFLs and ride the bus.

Life Lessons from 2009 (or just a bunch of words in one place)

Things that I learned in 2009

1. Waste makes Haste

Yes, I know the saying is haste makes waste but that is not the lesson I learned.  I learned that waste makes haste. The year of 09 was cluttered as could be.  I was no longer a newlywed (I say we still are, but for the sake of this lesson-learned, I was not)  and I was no longer fresh out of college. I was working 40 hour weeks, juggling bills, moving homes, making and maintaining relationships, volunteering, working for free, and doing an awful job.  There was just to much "that" for one of me.

Simplifying my world was the answer.  Everything from keepsakes to weekly obligations, bills to luxuries, it all is in a process of streamlining and simplification.  I have a lot of work to do still, all the while working on not throwing the baby out with the bath water.  But dang if that baby isn't a fatty.

2. Living with people is hard
2009 will henceforth be known as the year I lived in community. I started out the year with just my husband and I in a one bedroom apartment.  Then we moved to a 5 Bedroom, 4 bath home with 2 4 5 other people for 5 months, until the house sold. The rotating number of roommates was chaotically fun.  There was always something cooking (in the kitchen and otherwise) and never a lonely moment.  We then moved to a 5 bedroom 2 (as in: 1, 2. 2) bathroom house, in which we currently are living.

I am amassing some major life lessons. Best not to get into them all right now.  The best advice I had received before moving in to these places was "Learn the lessons that come up here, and learn them well.  These are lessons you don't have to learn on your family."  You are welcome, future Waneka babies, I am learning away so your barefoot selves will like me a little better.

I think the best thing I have gleaned from my living situations is that it is hard to live with people.  No matter who you are, and no matter who they are.  If it is easy you then it is probably hard for them.  If it is hard for you, it is probably still hard for them. The simple act of placing yourself in the mix with 5 other (or 1, or 2, or 3) personalities brings out all kinds of surprises.  Most of all from yourself.

3. Debt is the problem, not money.
As I'm sure I have mentioned 100 times before, this year started out with a couple of big challenges for me.  Tyler and I were only about 6 months into our marriage and already going through the lows of a job loss, the stress of a major injury and surgery, and beginning to pay off the debts we earned in the fleeting early years of adulthood (aka STUPID COLLEGE BILLS).

About mid-way through the year we began meeting with a financial mentor.  Our friend, Michael, is 40 years married, retired, and debt free.  A great role model on so many levels.  As we started to come clean about our bad habits, divulge the details of what we owe and who we owe, and own up to some of the dumber choices we made, one thing became clear to me: money doesn't suck. Debt does.

We had lived under the advisement that it was more important to live now, and worry about it later.  But yo, so wrong.  As Tyler and I have begun our aggressive attack on debt we have learned first hand that when you have debt, you are under someone's thumb.   I want to be the boss of me, so we're chiseling away.

4. Trusting people to be your friends even if you don't get why is hard but makes you a better friend.
I have some wonderful long-term friendships, some have lasted longer than most marriages in the US.  The thing about these friendships is that I began them when I was young.  I was young and baggage free.  Unfortunately, I have had some friendships that came and went quicker than a travel mug (because dammit, if those things don't just run away on their own).  I have come away from those places a little bruised up and carrying these ideas that close friends in adulthood might not exist.

This year, a light has come on.  They exist and they are wonderful.  You just have to scale back your baggage to about the size of a carry-on. We all have had relationships that make it hard to be comfortable in new ones, but as long as you are walling everyone out you will be walling yourself in.

I have an obnoxious sense of humor, I sneeze really weird, and I sometimes ask really stupid questions.  But to know me is to love me  and some people want to do that. Who I am to stop them?

5. Love is better in action.
I think my biggest lesson of the year came in February. The same month that Tyler and I learned that surgery was going to cost us about a month's worth of income, not including physical therapy or incidentals.  We began to discuss the idea of putting off the surgery until we had saved up enough to pay for it, or simply not doing it at all.  Tyler was wrestling with the idea of never snowboarding again at 24.  Kind of brutal.

One night, at one of our weekly dinners with our friends we told them about the idea of putting off the surgery and how that was the direction we were leaning.  They had already been there for us, making dinner for us while Tyler was on crutches and watching the entire 10-hour series of Band of Brothers because we were pretty much locked in the house for a few days after the injury. They were taking care of us, and keeping our spirits up. After we finished telling them our plans for the next few month they handed us a card with a check in it, a check to cover the surgery.


Close to 20 people, some really close friends and others just barely knew us, pitched in what they could and raised a couple thousand dollars to cover our costs.  It was incredible.  I still don't know how to explain what it felt like to receive that check. They were already there for us and supporting us through a pretty stressful experience and didn't need to do anything more.  What moved me the most was that they jumped in and footed the bill.  They didn't hope for the best and then wait to see if we were going to sink or swim, they jumped in the water with us and made sure we made it.

This experience has totally changed my perspective on how you care for the people you love.  It is always good to have good feelings, and warm wishes towards the people or the issues that you care about.  But the way that you feel is really only about you; it's what you do to show them you care that matters. Excuse me for the drama but the St. Crispen's Day speech from Henry V says "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother," so poetically sums up what it means to carry burdens with the people you love and how thankful I am for my friends who have done that.

And so...
I wanted to write about the things I learned and try to remember the changes that happened this year, more for me than for anyone else.  But I have stumbled through my language, and don't know if I even said what I wanted to. Oh the fine line of blogging and that which resembles public drunkeness.

Well I had a good year, and I didn't know I was going to.  Goodbye Aughties, I'm off to the tens, or the teens, or you know, the next ones.

Merry Christmas Internets!

Commuting, Construction, and Choose your own Adventure

Let me tell you a little story about my daily commute to work, as I find myself facing a conundrum on a regular basis. 

I am fortunate enough to live just 2 miles from where I work.  More than that, I live exactly 2 miles down the same street from where I work.  Because of this prime proximity it seems commuting should rarely take more than 20 minutes.  It seems. I am unfortunate enough to live directly north of the massive reconstructive overhaul they are doing on Broadway, a job that is 10 months from completion.

Here are my daily commute options written as a choose your own adventure, naturally:

You wake up in the morning and go through your tried and true routine.  Gym, shower, coffee, out the door by 7:40.  You walk out the door, and pause for a second in front of your house and try to choose your mode of transportation this morning?  You can walk, bus, or drive. What do you choose?


If You chose to walk: A good choice, since mornings are often mild and this allows you time enough to wake up before you begin a long day of work.  You walk one block from your house and have to dodge a couple of tractors that are working on the new sidewalk, which you notice will eventually be constructed in your front yard.  Nice!

Next, you see that there are tractors up a couple of blocks on this side of the road, and you really hate trying to judge their helter-skelter driving routes while dodging traffic.  Do you continue on and try to play chicken with the bobcats or do you cross to the other side?

You decide to cross the other side of the street and lo-and-behold.  More construction.  Glorious tractors, orange cones, and loitering men abound.  Now you have to frogger your way either through the construction, or cross to the other side of the street, where you can frogger your way through the construction.  (On a related note, do you have to go to Junior High to be a city planner? Or is that kind of a walk-on type position?)

You decide to frogger your way through the construction and you fall into an un-covered manhole.  The End.

If You chose to take the bus: Good choice! Lucky for you, you are right on the Skip route, the simplest and most frequently running bus in town.  Since you left the house at 7:40 and managed to run through traffic on Broadway to get to the closest bus stop, the next bus should only be 3 minutes away! You will be able to get to Pearl with plenty of time to grab a coffee before work.  Mental high-five.

Alas, it is now 7:53 . The first and second buses, as posted on the morning commute schedule on RTD, are yet to appear.  At this point, you are guaranteed to be late, and forget about coffee.  But what do you see coming over the hill? Why it is a fleet of Skip buses, four in a row! They are following no schedule posted anywhere, but by-golly, they are traveling in a glorious pack.  The first bus is packed with high school students so you can ride standing up.  Yes, the other buses are empty, why do you ask?

You get off the bus and show up to work. Unfortunately, while you were waiting for the bus, they took out an ad for, interviewed, hired, and trained your replacement.  You are fired. The end.

If You Chose to Drive: You get into your car and wait between the awkwardly staggered traffic (another perk to both sides of the road being worked on) and finally peel out into traffic, in a school zone no less.  10 cool points are deducted from your ego.  Ouch.  You drive and park in the parking garage. As you get out of your car Al Gore comes out from the stairwell and hits you over the head with his Oscar because you just drove 2 miles to work.  The End.

Wasn't that a good story?

Stay Warm and Prosper

This morning, my Twitter was full of posts like this:


And this:



And these:

"It's -2 outside right now. Awesome!"

"So on my way to the gym this morning my car told me it was -10 degrees. That is butt freaking cold!!!!!!! I need it to warm up a little."

"No one should have to go outside when it's -6 degrees. I'm moving so much slower this morning."

"Alright who wants to bail on this -9 degree stuff w/ me and go spend the rest of the month in Florida?"

I do. I want to bail and I'm not sure I even like Florida. It's like I don't even know where I am anymore. In Colorado, we have snow but it is supposed to melt. We have sun, all the time. Sun. All the time. This sub-zero, cloudy, blizzard siege is kind of killing me softly. I have been desperately wracking my brain for ways to go and warm up and created a little mental list.

Then, I was inspired by Maggie (of MightyGirl.com) and her list of "7 Ways to keep Cozy in San Francisco" and decided to share how I plan to stay warm in Boulder during this hellish freeze winter.

1. Have a Cup of soup and homemade artisan Bread at Oliv You & Me at Pearl and Broadway.
This boutique specializes in olive oil and olive oil accessories.  I absolutely love stepping into the shop on a chilly day.  Patti Scott, the owner, has cultivated a shop that feels like a mini-vacation.  She usually has a couple of soups on, and always has a variety of olive oils to sample.Olive it! (Get it guys?! Oh witty!)

2. Have a Latte and a Gingerbread Stout Cupcake at Tee and Cakes.

Tee and Cakes is one of my favorite places to head during my work week.  The carefully selected music combined with the great art and creative baked goods is a refreshing break from all things corporate.  Also, I kind of have a crush on their intern. Follow Tee and Cakes on Twitter and get VIP deals. Mmmmcupcake!

3. Slurp fancy noodles and inspired cocktails at Happy Noodle and the Bitter Bar.
Happy Noodle is one of Big Red F's newer Boulder spots. I love Big Red F and all the things they do. I mean that. Happy Noodle has a menu full of diverse and inventive dishes, complete with Ramen (The ultimate Happy Noodle, no?) and their specialty Hot and Happy Soup. The Bitter Bar is somewhat a force of it's own. It defines itself as the "marriage of a speakeasy and...lounge." Warm it up with a hot sake, Brandi or Denver's own Leopold Absinthe.

4. Duck into a reading nook at the Boulder Book Store upstairs.
Boulder's largest independent bookstore started with only 10 bookcases and 5 employees.  Roughly 36 years later, it is a three story haven for book-loving locals.  The picturesque "annex" or upstairs is my favorite place to hide out on my lunch breaks, especially when the weather is going ballistic and hanging out below zero. I mean..weather, it's zero- you really can't go below it.  You're just being a showboat, and no one likes a showboat.

5. Frequent the West End Tavern  for a Hot Toddy
The West End Tavern is arguably one of my favorite places in Boulder. Period.  It could be the hot wings.  It's really hard to say.  What I do know for sure is there are not many places I want to go when the snow is coming down in buckets, but I'll always go for a hot toddy at the The W.E.T.

6. Lurk by the fire and listen to Live Jazz at The St. Julien
In my last year of college I took a class on the History of Jazz.  The class was incredible, and now I can look extra cool when people ask me about jazz. You know, when that happens someday.  This class required we attend a certain number of live jazz performances; I attended all of mine at the St. Julien.  This started a love affair with the St. Julien lobby.  You can walk in, sit in a a velour slipper chair, listen to jazz, sip a cocktail or a latte, feel fancy and do so next to one of the best fireplaces I know of. 

7. Actually go to Hot Yoga
Few things undo the core freezing walk to the bus.  I don't care if you get under your covers WITH the space heater and pour buckets of hot tea over your head; sometimes that bone chill is just going to linger right in to forever. Why? Because it's Colorado, and mountain living comes at a price my friend.  Luckily, this is Boulder, and you are never too far from a heated studio pumping Thievery Corporation and the heat cranked to 105. Glorious. 

8. Sherpas for garlic naan, Vindaloo, and Chai
I don't know how to explain Sherpas. They have incredible chai tea.  You simply must go.  The victorian house is a one-stop shop for Himalayan expeditions and cuisine, and authentic chai.  Their website paints the best picture:

"As the name implies, there are genuine Sherpas from the Himalaya here to bring a little of Nepal & Tibet to Boulder. In addition to great food & atmosphere, we offer a truly unique "traveler's lounge" with plenty of books to help get you started planning your next (or better yet first) adventure. Keep an eye out for our list of guest speakers and slide shows. If experiencing the Himalayas (or Thailand, Africa, or South America for that matter) appeals to you - you're in the right place. Sherpa's is the place to re-live the glories of past adventures and plan new ones."

 Have I mentioned their chai?

So if you are looking for me and I'm not cuddled on the floor with a space heater and every pair of socks I could find in the house (at this point I don't care if they are even mine), you might find me at one of these Boulder warm-ups.

I have girly-man triceps and Hamstrings of Inflexible Steel

(It has been over a month since my last post.  Let's just pretend like we don't notice.)

This Monday has been one of the more painful Mondays I have had in a while.  It isn't entirely due to the excessive amount of needy callers who still do not understand that when I say I will transfer them to a voice mail and then do it, it is not a mistake. Seriously.  Calling back will just yield the same results. Even if you call back twice. Leave a message Jethro.

Anyway, I'm a little extra pained because my muscles are sore due to the Bar Method class I took on Saturday.  I think they're still kind of angry that I found them because they are the muscles that never get worked extensively, except for a day I spend snowboarding (aka using extreme acrobatic prowess to hoist myself back to my feet 30-40 times per run). Hello my wimpy triceps, I have found you and I shall torture and exhaust you.

The Bar Method is a relatively new workout regime as far as dedicated studios and DVDs go.  It consists of three basics types of exercises that target your muscles, work them to exhaustion, and then stretch them while they are still warm.  It is supposedly a really effective way to build lean muscle of the non-bulky variety.

I campaigned on Facebook and via text for a workout buddy to come try the basics class with me this weekend as it was both of the following: a. Free;  b. Bound to reveal my severely inflexible hamstrings.  You'd think that no escort would have discouraged me, but let us not forget how entirely shameless and slightly delusional I can be. Indeed, I showed up alone and was the only person do to so. Holla at a loner.

Despite my loner status, the Boulder location is really inviting.  It is modern, light and airy feeling. As an added bonus, they offer each class attendee a locker free of charge (yoga studios should take note).  The studio itself has floor-to-ceiling mirrors around the room, a ballet barre along the mirrors, and any of the equipment you would need for the workout.  I showed up in some socks and I was set to go.

The class seemed to consist of four different phases: a warm-up; the upper body and arm workout; the barre work out (focusing mainly on legs and the glutes); and some serious core work. Each phase was followed by stretching the muscle groups that were just worked.  The class is meant to work you "head-to-toe," and it certainly did.  I felt about two inches taller and was definitely aware of my abs.

I loved the class overall.  Certainly my amazingly inflexible hamstrings proved a challenge for the barre stretches (it has to be said that the forward stretch in middle school PE was always what made me hate the presidential fitness test), but, other than that, all of the moves were relatively easy to learn.  They were fairly easy to do as well, however; doing the 90 reps (yes ma'am, 90) got the old heart rate right up there.  I could definitely see this class yielding its promised results of lean and toned muscle groups.

The only real drawback of the bar method is the price range.  At $18 per class it is difficult to wiggle into the budget.  The upside to that is the DVDs, which feature the method's founder.  This kind of knocks out the self-concious trial period and the high price tag problem in one fell swoop.


I will definitely try the Bar Method again since it was such a stellar workout.  I felt like like I could freely indulge the cheddar cheese stored in the cheese drawer in my fridge.  Ahh, cheese drawer.