Yogi Me

Hey guys, sorry that I had gone missing for a few days with no word.  I was just hiding in the attic.  I mean the garage.  I mean a box in the attic in the garage. I did this for a show. No I didn't.

Ok, I got it out of my system.  I refuse to add one more you-know-what-boy link to the internet insanity (though I was totally sucked into it yesterday).  All I want to say is this: there is not a single reason I do not live in Fort Collins; there are quite a few. Yesterday I added one more. Oh Ft. Collins, your crazies carry guns on campus to stave off school shootings, wear sunglasses on the backs of their heads indoors, and send up UFO balloons with kids in them, or not, please send a helicopter.  As a town, you could probably use a little guidance. Boulder, on the other hand, knows exactly where it's going: Corepower Yoga, obvs.

Speaking of yoga, lately I have wondered what it would be like to go on a little yoga bender.  I have been at my current job for 15 months, in a row, and I'm already getting that old person swagger.  The one that comes from carrying way too much junk in your bag, so you don't get bored at your desk...err... on the bus.  The one that comes from uncomfortable shoes, unforgiving wool pants, and an ergonomic desk chair that is just not the right height for your desk and so you slouch all day.  I'm 23, but my hips are groaning and reminiscing of the days when Regan was in office (which I think is their way of saying I lean too far left for them. Zing!).

As some of you may know, I worked for the Yoga-store-to-remain-unnamed for about a year in college.  That little venture landed me free yoga classes at most of the local studios, and that is a lot.  Boulder must have the highest per capita yoga studios in a single town, someone google that.  At any rate, I really only have been able to commit to 1 maybe 2 classes a week, because it is a little out of my price range (while you're googling, look up Boulder's median income- and have a bucket near by) and I just don't think I've ever seen what yoga really can do.

(This little photo was in the paper, as alerted to me by one of my college professors at the time. There I am, in the gray, lunging across a gym with two of my managers from the yoga store.

One of the reasons I do not work there anymore.)

I am on a quest to get a studio to let me attend classes for 30 days straight, in exchange for me writing about what happens over that time.  Things such as:  if I notice any increases in my sleep patterns; joint mobility; stronger muscles; improved posture; or a need to dreadlock my hair and henna an apocalyptic dragon on my face. Wouldn't you read that blog? I would.

So far, I have had contact with a few studios and they all seem to kind of furrow their brows at me and stare blankly as if I have already henna-ed an apocalyptic dragon on my face.  I say "Guys, I'm awesome, you'll love me in your classes! You won't even know I'm here. Pretty please?"  And they are like, "Lady, please get off of my mat, I'm teaching right now."

Maybe yoga will help me with social boundaries. Fingers Crossed!

Item number 3: Wine

I am 50% Italian and 50% French.  Those are not exactly the right genetic representations.  There are other mixtures in there.  I am certain I have a lot of Irish blood, per my penchant for swearing when other words might do just fine. According to my mom, we have some Spanish heritage. But take a quick look at that photo to the right, and you'll see that even in a black and white photo, I'm scary white. Spanish is going to be a hard one to sell.  Anyway, back to my first statement:  I'm 50% Italian and 50% French. 

In college, I began studying Italian and my Italian-born professor was calling out the attendance sheet on the first day of class.  She called out the first few names, Anderson, Adams, Banks, etc. When she saw my name, her eyes lit up.  My maiden name (weird) is Baratta, and Baratta is the Smith of Italy. Add to that, my first name, Julia, is derivative of Giulia, the north eastern region of Italy.  Her face went from excitement, "Giulia Baratta?" (r's rolled and t's said individually), to bewilderment as she squinted and tilted her head and I responded "Si, that means 'yes' right?"  She immediately asked me to list all the Italian words I knew. High point: I knew a couple, Low point: all apparently inappropriate. Thanks Grandpa.

My Papa, or my great Grandfather, was Paul Walti and grew up in San Francisco speaking Frenglish. He was an Opera singer (typical), and every time we came to the city we dropped by the Basque cultural center to eat escargo or flit about in fashionable shoes or whatever French things we did there.  All I can remember is that was the place where if I had the stomach flu, I needed a sip of red wine.  A headache? A sip of red wine.  I was grouchy?  Have a nap, oh and maybe a sip of red wine. Red wine anyone?

Why am I writing all of this?  Well, with half of me identifying Italian and the other half identifying French, I love me some wine. I am writing out my life list, or my bucket list - I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to call it just yet.  Item #3: Build and establish a wine collection worthy of a cellar.  I know a few varieties, and vineyards that I like, but in order to build a collection with diversity I'm going to need some suggestions.

Internets, do you like wine?  Which ones?


Click here to here my Grandpa Singing the San Francisco Giant's Anthem (on the bottom of the page)

Frickin Freezing in Here

As I mentioned a few days ago, Colorado was heading into it's colder times of the year.  Little did I know Colorado was barreling head first into a giant wall of freezing snow and iciness. A wall of freezing snow and iciness on OCTOBER 8th, no less.  I guess we'll have fall next year.
 
Ultimately, I spent the weekend huddled around a space heater, or cuddling my cast iron soup pot.  I drank about 1.6 gallons of hot chocolate, and I'm still frozen.  This is likely due to the fact that I work in a building that was built in 1836 (yes folks, that is an eight right there) and live in a house built about 40 years later.  It is as if Old Man Winter has affixed himself to me, and has done so quite unseasonably early.  I think him coming in October is equivocal to my grandma waking up at 4 am, "just to start her day, dear"

I am committed to completing at least one of these two cold weather projects at some point this week.  This Lotta Jandsotter draft stopper seems to be a decent attempt at warming up room. At least we'll try, no?

But this Corn Pillow is a delightful bit of heaven.  I had one of these last winter, and it was the single best thing I owned when it was cold.  I have since gifted it to a friend of mine who, quote "Needed it, because he had to sleep alone, and if he didn't have one he could likely die."  Deep down, I knew he was right, so I gave away my beloved pillow.

You can find the DIY tutorial at Wily Wilco Craft Vixen.

You will have to forgive me today, I'm desperately tired, and I cannot think of anything to write. Why hello Monday.

I Always Fall for the Bad Ones

Act One: We enter in on a scene where Julia eyes a slice of cheese pizza in the break room.

• Julia: Oh, you again.What did I say about coming to my office?
  
• C. Pizza: You won't return my calls.
• Julia: So you just lurk in our kitchen here? What're you trying to do here?
• C.Pizza: I know we've had some not so great times.  I'm not going to pretend that whole thing with your skinny jeans didn't happen. It did. And you loved those jeans. But back in high school, we hung out all the time and there were no problems. I miss that.
• Julia: Yeah, but things have changed. I need to try to fit in my clothes.
  
• C.Pizza: Just one more chance, please?
• Julia: I don't think it's a good idea. I'm just not sure.
• C.Pizza: I have basil.  I know how much you love Basil. And red sauce, remember red sauce Jules?
  
• Julia: You had me at cheesey.

Exercising after pizza always feels like (what I imagine) Catholic* confession does. Like, hi hello, oops. I did this thing...and I'm already sorry for it, but I just feel like this isn't quite going to cover me.  And the preist is all "Yeah, you're right. Do you know what the Bible says about mozzarella? Forget Hail Mary's, you are going to have to ride your bike 10 miles, and follow that up with hot yoga- for 6 hours! Get a-toning." (ah see what I did there?) 

(side note, I was baptized Catholic, and my favorite family members are Catholic, so I think I'm allowed to make these jokes- I'll check and get back to you).

Anyway, while we're heading to confession, why not have our Sunday best, no?  I have used the Lululemon Align Ultra Mat for about 2 years.  I love it.  It isn't your top of the line when it comes to mats, I hear that the Manduka is the best, but alas, I don't have an extra $100 dollars ever. Especially since I'm buying all this pizza.  The Align Mat is soft enough to cushion you, sturdy enough it won't stretch during a down dog, and it's kinda cute. But the lines, oh the lines!  They have these lines on the mat to help you square up your posture.  When the teacher says to make sure your feet are in alignment, you can.  This is nice for the joints, but I especially love it because I'm not getting touched and adjusted every five minutes.  I like when you fix my posture, but when you touch my lower back, my brain goes "Danger ZONE!" Sometimes, I just like to do it myself, Bikram, I hope you can understand.

And while we're buying awesome mats, why not carry them in Modern Union's cute, yet functional bag.  If we have to ride our bikes to class, we might as well look awesome.


Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to file a restraining order against the pizza delivery guy.  Pizza stalking me in my break room? That's just too far.

Here we go...

It is officially cold season in Colorado. Not cold season as in "I hab a cold, but I'mb find," but rather the "Where did all my sweaters go? I need at least 7 to 10 sweaters on my body right now, wait no, nevermind, I'm feverishly hot, someone turn on the air please," cold season. The time in which the three seasons meld into one conglomerate season with multiple personalities. This is the time between October and May when any forecast could say it will be 70 degrees and sunny, or -2 degrees and snowy, and no one would be very surprised at either. This is when even young twenty somethings repeat senior citizen adages such as "If you don't like the weather in Colorado, wait five minutes," or "You need to learn how to layer if you're gonna make it in Colorado."  Yes, we get it, and yes, it's hilarious. I'm just laughing on the inside.

Actually, cold season is fun here because in the grand scheme of things, we have a very livable winter. The drawbacks of snowy and icy roads are often quickly dealt with by mass quantities of sunshine. The hills look like someone took a flour sifter to them, and the air is crisp and refreshing with not even a hint of muggy nastiness.

However, this season really cramps my style when it comes to working out outside. I have had far to many morning runs ("far too many" reads as "a total of maybe two") cut short because my fingers have frozen solid and the wind has sand blasted my legs with tiny frozen pieces of dirt through my cotton sweats. Don't get me started on the fact that my toes were numb before I even put my shoes on.

This winter I'm determined to find an exercise plan that will be sustainable through the cold days. My goals are as follows:

• Try out at least three new types of exercise for at least one to two weeks.
• Dedicate at least 30 days to indoor exercise that does not have the words "machine" or "cardio theater" anywhere in the names
• Dedicate at least 30 days to some form, or a few forms, of outdoor (I feel my nose hair freezing already) exercise.

I am notoriously cynical by nature (or nurture, discuss amongst yourselves), and certainly my woes will likely find their way onto this blog.  However, I am most interested in finding things that work, that I enjoy, that are delightfully good and share my experience of them here.  I think it's going to be a long winter, and so this is my project to distract me from the gray days and the Chinook madness.

Your thoughts?

Mad Muppets

I didn't know I could love Sesame Street any more than I already did, and then they had Feist on the show to teach us how to count. Just when I thought my heart had reached its maximum capacity for Muppets and ensuing hilarity, they go ahead and bring us this little gem.




Now Don Draper is not just a womanizer, and a chain-smoker, and God love him- he's the best at both of those things; he is in touch with his feelings. His dreamy, dreamy, feelings.

Say goodbye to Velour, for everyone's best interests

You're speeding back to school from the tanning salon in your Honda Prelude and listening to Britney's newest single: Toxic. And what is most offensive?  You are wearing a velour track suit.  Granted it is 2003, and thanks to J. Lo, 90% of females in the country were doing the same thing.  However, in 2009 (2 months from 2010- hello time warp!) there is simply no justification for velour track suits outside of...nowhere.  I tried to think of an appropriate place, but I just don't think there is such a thing.

Having worked at a yoga clothing shop that is to remain unnamed, I'm a sweats-junkie myself.  After a few too many grocery store run-ins with potential employers and fairly important acquaintances, I have been revamping my casual wear outlook.  Living in the most active city in the U.S. (fact check) I have seen my fair share of public grunge displayed as if it is appropriate to wear hiking shorts to a job interview, but I maintain that spandex is a privilege, not a right!

Here are some of my favorite casual wardrobe staples for every public situation that does not fall under the "I'm on my way home from the gym and need to pick up milk before tucking and rolling out of this place and back into my car" category.

In the words of Fashion Tribes:"AN ALTERNATIVE TO SWEATS Under no circumstances should you ever be seen publicly in a tracksuit or velour sweat suit (airplanes and gyms included). However, if you want a comfy walking-the-dog outfit, Gunn suggests leggings, a detailed tee, chic flats, and an interesting hoodie."

I substituted the hoodie with a luxurious looking wrap, and the flats with fold over boots (mostly because flats in winter in Colorado equal misery), but I think this outfit would be really fabulous with a pair of suede ankle boots.

Bye Bye J. Lo.