Signs that I am Aging

I have absolutely no desire to go wine tasting again today.  I have gone on multi-day Napa and Sonoma trips before, but I really don't feel like I can handle this anymore.  Drinking was much easier in college.

A second indicator that I am older is my perception of what is slutty.  I got a dress for this weekend with a very deep neck with a mesh thing over it. I pulled it out and asked "Doesn't this scream 'bachelorette'?"

"No, that just screams 'adult'."

Someone else described it as "business slutty".

The Second Morning

Waking up on day two of the bachelorette party hurts much more than the first.

Yesterday, we watched Pitch Perfect in the party van, practiced our own a cappella numbers over wine and lunch, then performed for our tour guide at the next winery.

Fancy dinner at a French restaurant followed by karaoke at a not fancy place where I drank more than my share of champagne.

I awake on my bachelorette morning...

After little sleep (my flight was delayed two hours and I got in at 11:30) and even less for Lindsay (she got in at 2:40, and is on east coast time) I awake to the start of my bachelorette party.

SFO is doing construction and has closed a runway, so I hope the girls flying in this morning are only a little delayed.

We are at Caitlin's new apartment in San Franisco. It's really nice and well decorated. Caitlin was proud to tell me that she and Paul had thrown out most of their trinkets, which I think has paid off.

So who's coming?
Me and my two sisters
Steph, Sarah, Lucia and Bear from my college a cappella group.
Kelsey and Ali, our cousins (who are sisters), from Seattle and CA respectively.
Gillian, my second cousin-in-law from Oregon.
And Theresa, my friend from Northport who now lives in Seattle, and Lauren and Savannah, Tess's friends from college who are now my friends from Seattle.

And Caitlin is going to drive us all around in a rented van!

Bachelorette Weekend

It's time for my Napa bachelorette weekend! I will be blogging on my iPhone from the road, so you can blame any typos or incoherence that occur on that and not on the wine.

I'm in the airport waiting for my flight to SFO watching a documentary about Thai prostitutes to get me in the bachelorette spirit.

In my bags are more dresses than I can wear in 3 days but I wanted options, new sandals, a cappella sheet music and candy for our goody bags.  The bags will also include custom wine classes, but those are with Caitlin.

We will assemble the bags tonight or tomorrow morning while watching the home movies Lindsay is bringing (my mom recently converted all the old VHS's to DVD), and buy snacks for the car.  We may practice a few group numbers so we can wow everyone at karaoke tomorrow night.

And Ken just texted me to let me know our wedding rings arrived! We were sent some samples from his aunt, a jeweler, and I have to wait all weekend to see them!

Hot Yoga

A Yoga studio recently opened in my neighborhood and gives a free week to all new guests.   I was intrigued.  Called CorePower Yoga, this studio advertises hot yoga classes, and presumably does some kind of core work.  The "power" aspect could be anything.

On Sunday, before attending my local farmers market, I walked in for my first free class.  I went for the unheated beginner level since Yoga gurus come off as pretentious elitists and I didn't want to embarrass myself with the intermediate students.

The building is very nice, as was the woman at the counter.  She told me I could borrow a mat and a towel for free on my first day--on my second day, I would be charged $2.  I borrowed the mat, but told her I had my own towel.  Their towels looked kind of big anyway, and I only need something to wipe my face, not dry off after a shower.

"The locker room is upstairs," she told me. 

"Oh, I don't have a lock with me, can I bring my bag into the class?"

"We lock the door to the locker room during class.  You're things will be safe."

"Okay," I said, and sure enough, in the locker room (on which I didn't actually see a door), was a sign telling users that "People who practice yoga don't steal!"  Whether or not the room had a door, or a locked door, I had no doubt that the sign would ward off any potential thieves so I left my cell phone and wallet under the careful watch of the sign, and headed downstairs.

The class was in a huge studio and was about a third to a quarter full.  Most of the women did not look like your typical svelte, lulu-lemon-adorned yogi, so I felt comfortable, and the class level was not overly difficult.  I thought I could probably try the next level up, so on Monday after work I went to "CorePower Yoga 2 - Heated Power Yoga."

Again, I brought my sweat towel, a raggy hand-towel that I need to replace, but still didn't have a mat.  I checked out the ones they sell in the store, but quickly decided that I would borrow one today and buy my own mat at Target for less than the $74 price they offered.  Pretending I didn't see the $2 Mat Rental sign, I took one out of its cubby and scurried upstairs to the locker room.  There wasn't a "no stealing" sign downstairs, so I'm sure Karma will not get me for that.

I walked into class, which was quite full, and put my mess of a towel down at the top of my mat.  I noticed someone had done that at the beginner class, and I had followed suit when my sweaty palms would no longer hold my down-dog in place without slipping.  I looked around.  Everyone else had full-sized towels.  Then I remembered the large towels the studio rents.

"Oh no," I wondered, never having gone to hot yoga before.  "What is going to happen to me?"

The teacher came in, and the room heated up.  I started wishing that I, too, had on booty work-out shorts like some of the others in the room.  After the "core" section, which is thankfully short, I had transformed from a human into a waterfall.  Perspiration was pouring down my face, legs and arms.  I saw that others had little sweat rivers cascading off their bodies.   It was like being in a rain forest.  By the end of class, my contacts started falling out because my face was so wet.

I left completely drenched.  Thankfully, it was a warm day so I didn't worry about walking home wet, but I imagine in the winter, I'll have to change out of my sweat clothes for fear of them freezing in place on me.  I checked out the prices of the tank tops they sold, and again decided I would get these and my booty shorts from Target.

Paranoia

Some of you probably remember when I first started using a standing desk.  Two years ago, my dad continuously sent the family articles about how "office chairs are killing us", which lead to me reading all the New York Times articles on backs, sitting, and its effect on health, and culminated in me building a standing desk at work out of cardboard boxes.  When I told my dad, he let me know that he has a similar model himself. 

I brought my standing desk across the country (not the actual boxes, just the idea), and for the first month of my job explained, "No, I don't have back problems, but I don't expect to get them, either.  This is preventative, and I am going to live forever," until the standing desk became commonplace, but to my disappointment, has not caught on around the workplace.

My mom recently recommended a diet she has been doing that requires you to eat fruits, vegetables, beans and a limited amount of whole grains, starchy vegetables and nuts for 90% of your food, and 10% can be other (meat, chocolate, wine).  I read the book (my mom didn't), and it told me that, like my office chair, these "other" foods are killing me.  Animal products and processed foods are also destroying the environment.  I went on to read Food, Inc, a book of essays by various journalists, organic farmers, and activist group leaders, telling me just how bad our food system is to the planet, poor farmers, poor countries, and our own bodies. 

Aside from wine, I have only eaten fruits, vegetables, beans, and a limited amount of nuts (I'm holding out on the whole grains and starchy veggies for now, as I know that will be the only thing I'll want to eat) since starting the book a week and a half ago.  Then, I started composting and buying the most dangerous foods organic.  Today, I am going to the farmers market.

Note for you East-Coasters:  In Washington, composting is like recycling.  There is a "yard waste" bin and you just throw your food garbage in it.  The difficult part is that I don't want a closed bin for it in the apartment because it will get so gross, and I don't want to leave it out in a bowl because it will attract bugs.  My solution is to keep it in a bowl (easily washable) and take it out twice daily, in the morning before I leave for work and at night before I go to bed.  Not only am I helping the environment, but I am getting more exercise on the stairs.

I bookmarked references to other interesting food system and diet books, and after finishing Grant, will probably circle back to those and get increasingly paranoid about food, what it is doing to me, and what it is doing to the world.  We'll see how far I go with this.

Wedding Updates

Well, it certainly has been a while.

A large contributor to my absence has been, you guessed it, wedding planning!  The other parts are training for various half marathons and reading some incredible page turners like Team of Rivals, followed by Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, and rounder out with Grant.  I departed 1/3 way through Grant (after the fall of Vicksburg) to read books on food and food policy, and will soon circle back to the Civil War and then Reconstruction.

But for now, I'll share some wedding plans with you.

Finally, almost everything is done or planned or in the works aside from the decor we are making ourselves.  There are probably one or two more things--I don't have my check-list out--but it's pretty much organized.

The other day I said to Ken, "It's really nice, I feel like we are getting less stressed as we get closer because we have everything under control."

"I was never stressed."

"Okay, I feel like I am less stressed now."

He agreed that that was fantastic.  So hooray for me for freaking out WELL in advance, and hooray for the less-stressful present.

Today
Ken is currently waiting for his flight at SeaTac International airport, leaving for his bachelor party weekend on Long Island.

Commonly Asked Questions:

Ashley, are you worried about strippers?

No, his dad will be there.  It's a fishing trip.

Wow, isn't that lame?

Yes.

Are you going to have strippers at your bachelorette party?

No.

Is your bachelorette party going to be off-the-hook?

No, not by most standards.  But definitely by my standards!!  My standards, and my hook, are very low.  My weekend (a mere two weekends away) is going to consist of all my favorite things: Wine tasting in Napa (sounds cool so far, right?), pool time, private yoga instruction, Caitlin driving us around in a rented van (a van-van, not a limo or a minivan), Karaoke, and--Spoiler Alert for those attending--printed a cappella sheet music for the car ride!  Yup, and there's where it gets really lame. 

Lame or not, it's my bachelorette party and I can demand that everyone sing a cappella. Fortunately, 6 of the 14 guests were in Counterpoint, Stanford University's most prestigious and only all-female a cappella group, 2 were members of Acoustic Tile, grossly underrated acoustic indie folk-rock band, and 3 were members of Grace Notes, Northport Presbyterian Church's most prestigious and only all-girls youth choir.  (Note: I am double-counting Lindsay and Caitlin and triple-counting myself.  Only 8 are singers.)  Prepare yourself for some feature videos.

What are you going to do while Ken's away?

After this post, I will be drinking wine and watching Lincoln.