here are some random bubbles, fizzing up and around my already fermented brain:

last night in yoga training we learned an adjustment which involved clutching the fleshy part of a student’s inner thigh, and then giving them sweet nirvana with a deep, hip stretch. the kind of stretch where not just tension and tightness are released, but childhood grievances, past break-ups, the prom of 1992, and what are we going to do with grandma; are all relinquished into the universe.

the question arose though, how do you adjust when a yogi is so thin {common in our newport beachy parts of town} and there is no flesh to glom?……grab ankle? press calf? hold shoulders?

we found a flimsy albeit adequate solution involving wonky ankles over knees, hands through thighs, etc, etc.

but just a head’s up, if you’re so rawboned that i can’t find a little, yummy thigh to grip? i’m not giving you a deeper pigeon stretch, i’m taking you out for a sandwich and a large milkshake to wash it down.


my beast needs a bath. i now sense where she is anywhere in the house because my eyes start to burn. she smells like a day-old california roll.

and worse, the grimier and stinkier she gets the more entitled she feels. i found her yesterday morning in our bed: no invitation, no shame, rolling around like some cheap slut in a dolly parton, texas whorehouse.

i had to burn the sheets…..after, of course, i dipped them in a concoction of wasabi and soy sauce.

halloween is four days away. i don’t have a costume, nor does the beast. this is the first year i can remember where i haven’t already motored through 3 bags of candy prior to receiving my first trick-or-treater. in fact, the candy has yet to be bought- if i can believe that! 

that’s not to say my emotional eating binges have abated. sister’s been on non-stop eating spree with no end in sight.

i blame the new kelly clarkson album. something about that girl’s set of church organ sounding pipes immediately sends me instagram emo, beggin for someone to break up with me just so i can angst around the streets of balboa island, looking sad, but wearing a really cute outfit.

my binge food of choice has been massive quantities of dehydrated pineapple rings.


i’m not sure what it means or what enzyme or vitamin i’m lacking, but the mother’s market on 19th street is definitely yielding a low stock of kopali organics pineapple. not the worst food to bust a button with, but still a girl needs to know when to “say when.”

i told hunkiest my body clearly is telling me i need a two-week vacation in maui.

until then, thursday aloha! to you m’loves.