EmmaGoodEgg

A Plug For Danura The Yoga Bunny

For my review of Danura's yoga class last year, click here.

First Foray

So I went to my first proper yoga class yesterday. I now know how to execute a downward-facing dog and during which was I giggling? No. Did I find out that yoga is tough but strangely calming? You bet.

I drove to the studios of Body Active at the always-busy Delima Square, full of intent and purpose, armed with a yoga mat. I did some lunges at home so I was feeling pretty limber. With a spring in my step from the ol' trusty Nikes, I entered Nora's yoga class for beginners. I don't know whether it was the afternoon sun peeking through the windows and bouncing off the wooden floors of the studio combined with ethereal yoga music, but it sure was surreal. It reminded me of the best corner in a library, and that is a compliment. My classmates came sorted with their yoga mats, yoga wear and a No-Shoes policy. The sneakers I had on suddenly felt constricted so I liberated my feet from wearing shoes the whole day and the journey to relaxation starts.

Teacher Nora taught us the very basics of yoga: like how to breathe properly during asanas (poses), how to sit in a lotus position and touch the tip of the thumb to the tip of the pointy finger (as if you are doing an OK sign) and place your hands face up on your knees, simple effective stretches, Amazon Warrior moves (I swear) and my favourite downward-facing dog, a few rolls and sun salutations. Another favourite of mine is the lying-still-on-your-back-hands-on-your-side-palms-up and & "let your eyeballs feel like they are dropping into the back of your head", excellently described by the teacher thus excellently executed by me. All throughout the class, Nora teaches in a gentle, unobtrusive way.

Bobby says that yoga is best experienced in private and I quite agree with that. In an ideal yoga world, I imagine doing a sun salutation butt-naked on top of a high cliff overlooking the ocean whilst watching the sunrise. But I don't live in an ideal world, yoga-related or otherwise. Therefore, having a teacher that gently and effectively imparts the wisdom of her teachings, in a surrounding that soothes, is good enough for me. I felt a sense of peace during yesterday's class, as opposed to say, if I were in a taebo or hi and low aerobics class, where the music remixes alone could make me swear off exercise. But that's just me. One of my aunties is an aerobics freak and has been doing it for years and years. She has close aerobic buddies; they even go on shopping trips together. Each to his/her own I guess.

Am I a yoga convert? The jury is still out on that one. The plan was to learn a few basics of yoga and then go on a holiday disguised as a yoga retreat, but I must say I enjoyed my first foray. I enjoyed it for the simplest reasons: like learning how to BREATHE properly, that the yoga studio had the peaceful ambience of a library, and that our yoga teacher is wholesome and not some emaciated person who looks as if he/she eat lentils all day. But the next beginners class is not until the 1st of November, and that means I may have to ask Bobby to teach me some yoga moves in between then. Now, this has its pros and cons of course:

Cons - The husband seeing me ungainly.
Pros - Me seeing the husband with very little clothes on.

Namaste. Eseh man.

Emma The Yoga Bhani

I am blessed to have friends that come up with the best (and strangest) ways to have fun. Diva D and I was sitting around watching Step Up one Saturday afternoon when she sits up and says, "Oh! Let's go sign up for a yoga package!" And from my horizontal position on the couch I responded with a slouchy Getouttahere.

You see, I am not limber. Especially if there's nothing in it for me.

Being a person who has not been able to touch her toes without a great deal of stretch since, oh most probably her toddler days, I suffer from what I call exercise anxiety. Which loosely translated means, I would LIKE to exercise but I a) am busy b) am lazy c) would rather sleep. So of course I thought of Diva D's idea with some trepidation. Until I heard the good part. The part where she tells me Melee (a friend of ours) knows a yoga teacher called Vincent Tam. And that Vincent the Yogi is organising a yoga holiday package at The Chedi in Chiang Mai. The Chedi! Chiang Mai! I wonder if I could nicely ask the Concierge whether he could ask Vincent to move the 7am lessons to say, 10? Before I knew what hit me, completely agreeable to the thought of a swell girlie holiday, filled with bedtime gossip, pareos, massage oils and trashy novels, the Markets, the quirky places to eat, I yelled, "Let's GO!"

But yes, there is that bit about the yoga sessions in between the free laundry, cocktails, transfers, spa-ing, visiting the sites in Chiang Mai that I have to worry about. And I have 18 days to learn some yoga basics before Vincent makes me wear the Dunce hat in class because I giggle when he poses and says downward facing nn-doooog.

In a slight panic, I paid Danura a visit at Danurasana because she's done a swell job at making yoga a trendy way to stay healthy in Brunei, and then all yoga-ed up, I checked out the class schedules at Body Active. Last Saturday, fueled by the desire to not be a yoga fool, I went around the Nike section at the top floor of Hua Ho Yayasan, bought a pair of yoga pants (grey, v comfy, v good) and recoiled in horror at the price tag of a Nike yoga mat. B$75 for a rubber mat? You got to be joking.

Anyway, Bobby does yoga. Bobby subscribes to the motto of wearing the least possible when yoga-ing, and cannot fathom pricey yoga-inspired Christy Turlington-does-Puma Nuala shoes. That's why Bobby refuses to go to class. Bobby uses a B$25 yoga mat he bought at GL Extra (a store which sells mostly camping gear and Navy Seals Wannabe gadgets), so after Yayasan I headed over to Kiulap to get a green one, in case I decide to be Jungle Jane one of these days.

Happy with my cheap new yoga mat, I contemplated on going to a yoga class while testing out my yoga pants, but they were much too comfortable on a lazy Saturday afternoon that I slouched about at home. But Wednesday is a Brand New Day and I shall bring the yoga mat for a test drive at the 4.30pm Beginner's Class. And then after all that stretching, breathing and good ol' perspiration, all calm and at peace with the world, zoom back just in time to break my fast.

Namaste. I hope.

The Gentlemanly Code

The husband read me an article from the Times Life & Style - Men's Style section as he was reading the paper online this evening. The article was showcasing Thomas Fink's The Man's Book (the title, I'm sure you would agree, needs no explanation).

I was tested on the above and got the answers all correct for it was not rocket science. "Good girl!", said the husband nevertheless. And what I gained from this little tete a tete is that apparently, there are rules for when the boys use a public loo. An unwritten code of sorts on how a man should behave when taking a leak in a urinal.

The first time I heard about this over dinner with the husband and some friends one evening, I was intrigued. It's women who have RULES, and we certainly do not have any for going to the loo (or do we?). The women around the table were quite disconcerted by the relevation whilst the men were dead serious. The universal rule we heard that evening was 'whenever possible do not choose the urinal next to the one that is already occupied'. It was a riveting discussion.

The article attested, and I was glad to learn, that men do obsess about their clothes and sizes and believe in etiquette and good manners.

But unfortunately, the writer commits a faux pas when he says that the 8th reason for why men prefer older women is that "They are so grateful".

Dear me. So classy Mr Fink.

Aches & Pains

Apparently, my backside is that of an old woman, according to the physio doc at JPMC.  Who is this really young eager-beaver Singaporean man who thought I was cabin crew.  I was flattered, then yelled FUCK because he was causing me pain.  Then he wanted to know who to contact where I work, so that he could offer some physio classes for crews in order to help their backs/posture et al.  The husband and I think he just needs a date. 

Anyhow, its not that I have a wrinkly backside, but I have a ligament strain on my right bum going down to my very taut hamstrings.  They hurt, and they make me less limber especially when I am sitting down doing those floor exercises or touching my toes.  No bloody wonder I have never been able to touch my toes fully without pain.  The physio really helped and I thank the good doctor despite his foibles.  I am now on the road to being limber.

However, I do worry about the deep cramps I get every few hours on my left side.  I think it may have something to do with digestion or IBS...but I'm no doctor and I really need someone to diagnose me properly :(

Anyone has any clue, let me know.

 

Quizzicals

The ULTIMATE personality test

Protector
Take this quiz!

Quizilla | Join | Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

According to Quizilla's Ultimate Personality Test, I am a Protector! Like a rock. Or THE Rock. A lil' bit of fluff here.

Johari's Window

is a weird name for a mapping personality awareness tool invented by Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingham in the 1950s. Here's my window, and I thank the husband, Babs, Nings and Woo for taking the time to do mine:

Arena (known to self and others) friendly, loving	Blind Spot (known only to others) able, bold, cheerful, confident, dependable, happy, kind, knowledgeable, organised, reflective, responsive, sensible, trustworthy, warm
Façade (known only to self) clever, complex, helpful, logical	Unknown (known to nobody) accepting, adaptable, brave, calm, caring, dignified, energetic, extroverted, giving, idealistic, independent, ingenious, intelligent, introverted, mature, modest, nervous, observant, patient, powerful, proud, quiet, relaxed, religious, searching, self-assertive, self-conscious, sentimental, shy, silly, spontaneous, sympathetic, tense, wise, witty

All Percentages

able (50%) accepting (0%) adaptable (0%) bold (50%) brave (0%) calm (0%) caring (0%) cheerful (50%) clever (0%) complex (0%) confident (50%) dependable (25%) dignified (0%) energetic (0%) extroverted (0%) friendly (50%) giving (0%) happy (25%) helpful (0%) idealistic (0%) independent (0%) ingenious (0%) intelligent (0%) introverted (0%) kind (25%) knowledgeable (25%) logical (0%) loving (25%) mature (0%) modest (0%) nervous (0%) observant (0%) organised (50%) patient (0%) powerful (0%) proud (0%) quiet (0%) reflective (25%) relaxed (0%) religious (0%) responsive (25%) searching (0%) self-assertive (0%) self-conscious (0%) sensible (50%) sentimental (0%) shy (0%) silly (0%) spontaneous (0%) sympathetic (0%) tense (0%) trustworthy (25%) warm (50%) wise (0%) witty (0%)

Created by the Interactive Johari Window on 22.5.2006, using data from 4 respondents.
You can make your own Johari Window, or view EmmaGoodEgg's full data.

Happiest Owners Live In

Bungalows!

"There is no place like home. And that is particularly true if you live in a bungalow.

Bungalow dwellers are the most contented homeowners, according to new research conducted to find the happiest home in Britain.

It found that a bigger home was not necessarily a happier one with the most contented living in a home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small garden and, crucially, no stairs.

The top billing for bungalows might explain why they are the most sought-after property type in Britain despite representing just two per cent of the housing stock.

The study, which was commissioned by Halifax General Insurance, used 12 factors to determine the home happiness, ranging from crime rate to decor.

David Rochester, the senior pricing manager at Halifax, said: "As one of the biggest home insurers, we found factors such as crime rate, privacy and sense of community have a more direct impact on happiness.

"It just so happens that bungalows fulfil much of the criteria that make a home happy. They tend to be in areas with a strong sense of community and that makes an enormous difference."

Home happiness is directly linked to age, with the over 50s having significantly happier homes than their younger counterparts.

Most happy homeowners are found in the Midlands with 31 per cent rating their homes 10 out of 10. The North West had the lowest with just 12 per cent."

By Fiona Govan in The Daily Telegraph

Year of The Rooster

Happy New Year everyone!

Pre-Menstrual-Stroppiness

At THAT time of month (grrrrrrr *snap!):

One minute she's telling you how happy you make her, the next she's telling you how happy she is when you're away from her.  You thought you were dating one girl, but with her mood swings, you might as well be dating four.

Many men experience the mood swinging girlfriend, otherwise known as Jekylline & Hydera. You think she's just as crazy as every other girl you meet.

If you want to understand her mood swings and try to better deal with her roller coaster emotions -- especially those that reappear monthly at the Menstrual Amusement Park -- just take a seat and buckle up; it's going to be a bumpy ride. 

It's women's fault that men run away screaming, "Oh no, she's having another one of her mood swings!"  Women have taken the concept of mood swings too far, and use PMS as their excuse for being able to bite the head off of anyone who merely breathes in their direction.  Granted, we are more emotional and cranky, but we shouldn't be downright evil.

Let's get something straight once and for all: It's completely normal for women to experience emotional ups and downs 7 to 10 days before they menstruate.  In that week before she experiences her menstrual cycle, her hormones are in turmoil.  She has a right to claim that her back hurts, her head hurts, she feels bloated, she's having heart palpitations, and she feels all-around gross.

But, she doesn't have a right to claim that she wants to kill everyone in sight and hates your guts.  Because of the uncomfortable symptoms felt by women during premenstrual syndrome, women have been allotted a certain "grace" period in which they are allowed to experience mood swings.

So guys, you can expect that your girl won't be herself at least 5 days of the month, while she's "PMSing."  She may complain during her period (which you can't criticize her for until you undergo monthly pain and discomfort), so allow her those days to vent about her frustration and discomfort, and please, be sympathetic.

Not to worry, the tables do turn.  If she has those 4-5 days of "mood-swing allowance," then you should warn her that you're allowed that grace period too, in which you can snap at her "just because."

While she's experiencing premenstrual syndrome, the best thing for you to do is be sympathetic and understanding.  Bring her chocolate if she craves it.  Let her watch her chick flicks and cry during life insurance commercials.  And let her snap at you once, twice or even four times.

The main thing is to first establish whether mood swings are a common occurrence for your girlfriend and if they're sewn into her personality, or whether you're the one setting off her crankiness.  The rest is up to you: if she's worth it and brings you a lot of happiness you won't mind being taken for the ride.  And if the mood swings occur mostly because of PMS, try to hold her hand and let her vent about her discomfort.  She'll only appreciate you more for it.

[Excerpts taken from (I kid you not) AskMen.com here]

The husband, he has smartly gone to sleep and I am wide-awake cursing my hormones.  He knows I love him.  I know this despite all these hormones wreaking havoc on my current state of mind.  Get on with it already.