First yoga class of 2011 tonight, and I’m heading right back for more first thing in the morning…sitting around the table now with the housemates, sharing our first dinner together of 2011. Well, ok, we all have our laptops out, so I guess it’s not such a community affair…but Shmanielle (I disguise her name to protect her privacy, and/or dignity) is Canadian and tonight is apparently the world cup of junior ice hockey, which means a lot of testosterone-charged teenagers from Russia are trying to murder a lot of equally hormonal teenagers from Canada, with sticks, on ice skates. And we’re all watching. Or screaming, for those of us (name censored) with particularly strong allegiances to the latter team.
On another note–the reading list (so far) for 2011! Books I picked up at used bookstores or borrowed from friends over the holiday:
some philosophy: As a Man Thinketh (James Allen), Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (Robert M. Pirsig)
some experimental fiction: Autobiography of Red (Anne Carson), The [Diblos] Notebook (James Merrill)
some poetry: Evidence (Mary Oliver), a new anthology of contemporary American poets
some yoga: The Tree of Yoga (BKS Iyengar), a new translation of Siddhartha (Hermann Hesse)
some nonfiction: In Defense of Food (Michael Pollan), The Legacy of Luna (Julia Butterfly Hill)
and some picture books: The Doll’s House–first full story of the Sandman series (Neil Gaiman), a collection of Jane’s World–my favorite lesbian comic strip (Paige Braddock)
I’m not much of one for New Year resolutions. Instead, I made a list of some of the beautiful things about 2010 that I want to bring into 2011…Couchsurfing. Weekly poetry workshop group. Incredible relationship. New dedication to yoga practice. Sense of adventure at work (or the courage to be out of work–paychecks are mere ephemera of this world, right?)
Speaking of work, I went through my archive of Lost Drafts–thoughts that sprinted off to a great start, tripped, stumbled, or got otherwise distracted (probably by something delicious) (read: gingerbread) (or maple vinaigrette, which is like a Wonderbra, meaning it perks up any salad in an oh-so-yummy, mouthwatering–um, yeah)–I went through my archive of Lost Drafts, and found this:
Never mind, I’ll post that next time. My (aforementioned) Canadian housemate just announced (between shrieks of “WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING?!??! JUST PLAY HOCKEY!!!!!! WE HAVE TO WIN THIS GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” And, “OH THIS HURTS MY SOUL. OH CANADA. COME ON, BOYS…”) that an “overly-friendly man at the baggage claim” at the airport today pointed out that there is a unicorn on her passport. I have performed a Google search to confirm this information. For your viewing pleasure:
Dear friends, dear readers, I know a perfect blog-post ending when I see one. May your New Year be fruitful, peaceful, and mythicalbeastful.