gay blogilates

I haven't posted for so long that I almost forgot my blogger password.

Today's post starts off all about pilates and I think YorN might be the only person who'll be genuinely interested. You'll see why soon, I'm about to get dancer dorky. I had a session with a fellow trainee and she rocks. She has a great eye and has really helped to start balance me out. She's noticed that the right side of my body is much more developed than my left and that I totally cheat at exercises to compensate. This morning I told her that I wanted to work on a specific series because I was having a lot of trouble with my scapulae flaring out. I mentioned that my scapulae are crazy because even when I'm just standing there they start to poke out from my back and I could not figure out how to keep them down. First and only of all, in my pilates and my old dance classes, the instructors were always talking about finding the lats (the latissimus dorsi, a huge muscle of the back) and pulling them down. So today, Megan (the fellow trainee) and I started experimenting and we discovered that when I'm told to pull my lats down what I actually do is depress my scapulae by contracting my rhomboids. I couldn't access my lats at all! And this whole time that's totally what I thought I was doing! I was horribly upset that I was so lacking in body awareness. We spent the next 10 minutes just trying to get me to find my lats. I was finally able to but then keeping that awareness and performing exercises is really hard. Like, really hard. Then, after we had done some more pilates, Megan showed me some more exercises I could do just for my lats because once again, my right side is more developed than my left. I started concentrating on those and noticed that when looking in the mirror in front of me I actually had a great view of my back, it being reflected from the mirror behind me. So I of course stripped off my shirt so I could really see those lats working. It helped a lot. And really, my back looks pretty good, maybe hot even. I then became fascinated with the imbalances in my back when I was just standing still. Namely, my right scapula juts out and up much more noticeably than my left. I played with trying to bring it back into alignment but now it's 5 hours later and I must have concentrated on it too much because now all I can feel is that shouderblade poking out and it's starting to hurt and really drive me crazy.

No segue...

A few nights ago MNS and Pants had a karaoke party and I was invited. Now, I've never sang karaoke before, ever and I told MNS that I probably wasn't going to start anytime soon. She and I are pretty much on the same wavelength when it comes to karaoke. But after watching her brave a few songs I figured I'd better step up. And step up I did. I quickly drank 3 beers, which gave me an extra boost of light headed confidence (particularly since I hadn't eaten since lunch), went to the front of the room and belted out Bjork's It's Oh So Quiet. Wow bam! Zing boom! I put energy into that fucker! When I sat down MNS just looked at me for a moment then said, "I've never seen this side of you. I've known you for so long and have never seen you like this." And that was just a precursor. Later I sang Don't Tell Mama with MNS's sister, Beta, complete with ass slaps and body caresses. Upon sitting down this time MNS leaned over and whispered in a surprised, slightly conspiratorial/complimentary tone, "You are such a fag. Really faggy." Who knew? Now you do.

And finally...

More disastrous combinations

semantics

A quote from my boss at the theater:

"I know you're not calling our members hookers."

Who knew she had such good hearing?

The ability to recognize negative behavior often has no correlation with correcting that behavior. At least that's how it often is with me. I can usually easily spot when I'm being whiny, pitiful or self-destructive but do I stop? Nosirree. Even when my behavior is so secretive that the only person that knows its happening (and hence the main person it hurts) is me. Petulance reigns supreme. Why can't I just enjoy aspects of life? Why do I crumble when my plans are disrupted? Why do I feel like I deserve this loneliness? Only my therapist (who doesn't exist) can tell.

In other news, I wish I could stay at the gym all day. I love it there (right now, I'm pretty fickle when it comes to things that make me happy so we'll see how long this lasts). I love spending hours and hours exercising and stretching. Yesterday I had to go open the studio at 6AM. I then did some cardio for about 35 minutes, watched some pilates training then had an hour of a sort of personal pilates/weight/cardio class where a teacher was trying to create a new routine so she tried it out on me. I felt so tired when I left but that evening I decided to skip the closest subway stop and walk the 20 blocks to the next express stop. Then I come to work at the theater and get down down down. Enclosed in a windowless cube, I arrive and immediately begin to gorge on sugar. Perhaps someday I'll be able to do something I love. Isn't that everyone's goal? Has anyone achieved it? No one I know, it seems.