The last time I did yoga was more than a decade ago, when a couple friends and I took a weekly class at the gym for a few months. Even then, I was kind of a slacker who lurked in the back of class muttering obscenities about downward dog (not sure if it’s big boobs or lack of arm strength, but that pose has always been SO uncomfortable for me). Recently, though, I’ve been yearning to give yoga another go and see if my adult self enjoys it more than my teenage self did. There are tons of great studios in my neighborhood. Right now, the only thing holding me back from packing up my yoga mat and actually going to class are a series of “what ifs”: What if everyone in the class is better than me? What if my outfit is dumb? What if I can’t hold the pose?
Luckily for me, my coworker and friend Ami just completed her 200-hour yoga teacher training, and is scheduled to teach her first class next month. She seemed like the perfect person to field my most pressing and ridiculous yoga questions without judgment. Here’s what she had to say about downward dog, baggy Weird Al t-shirts, and, yes, farting during class… Keep reading »
“What time do you go to bed?” the acupuncturist asked while monitoring my pulse.
“Like, midnight?” I said.
“And what time do you wake up?” she asked, examining my tongue.
“Um, 6:30,” I said, proudly.
I’ve always thought of excessive sleeping as a sign of weakness. Just for myself, not for others. It’s too closely related to depression, so I try not to do too much of it. I didn’t say this out loud, of course.
We sat there, staring at each other for a silent moment.
“You need to sleep more,” she told me. “You don’t take good care of yourself.”
That’s when I started to cry.
“Let her out,” she said. “Let the real you out.” Keep reading »
At 14 weeks pregnant, Marlise Munoz of Texas suffered what appeared to be a pulmonary embolism (blood clot) in her lungs and collapsed on the kitchen floor. She lay there for an hour until her husband found her, during which time her fetus was possibly not exposed to oxygen.
Marlise was a paramedic who was attending nursing school; her husband is a firefighter. Given their exposure to such circumstances in their professional lives, the Star-Telegram reports, each had conveyed to the other they did not want to be kept alive on life support if such a tragedy happened to them.
But their wishes don’t matter. Forth Worth’s John Peter Smith Hospital is keeping still brain dead Marlise technically alive on life support throughout the remainder of her pregnancy because of a law meant to “protect” her fetus. She is currently 20 weeks pregnant. Keep reading »
A big shoutout to the Daily Mail for coming up with fun and creative ways to body shame. A new survey — done by … oh, does it even matter? — found that “bingo wings” and “buffalo humps” were among the most rapidly increasing cosmetic treatments. “Bingo wing” and “buffalo hump” sounds like an indie folk duo, but actually, they are newfangled descriptions for human body parts. The first person to guess which parts they are gets a cookie. Or actually, no, because that might make your “buffalo hump” even fatter than it already is. Keep reading »
I donated eggs — to gay men, through an agency, in exchange for money — twice in my twenties. At one point, I was in the Washington Post about it. As a result of going public, I’ve gotten a good number of questions about it, and more requests than I can count from young women writing for their school newspapers. Read more on The Gloss…
It’s safe to say that if you’re a human between the ages of 18 to 65 with a Facebook account, your friends’ New Years Resolutions have been popping up on your news feed from the moment the ball dropped.
Some hope to cut back on their vino intake, others are trying to become more domestic, and, if you’re like me, tons of your pals are eager to get healthier and slimmer by hitting the gym in 2014.
But not without some other asshole complaining about it… Keep reading »