tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63851424263433423702024-03-13T00:17:12.125-04:00It's All New to MeI'm doing something new every day for a year and these are my adventures!Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.comBlogger242125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-45346386186100341222011-12-27T11:02:00.005-05:002011-12-27T12:02:47.648-05:00New Thing # Oh-who's-counting: Newly Engaged editionOn a brisk, cold walk through Central Park, mere hours before I fulfilled a lifelong dream of seeing the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Music Hall, my longtime love Mark Manderson got down on one knee to propose to me.<br />
<br />
Heaven help him.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, just weeks after his proposal, I find myself tearing up while driving through traffic when the light catches my ring, or watching movies, or simply staring out my window at work. I can't believe he wants to marry me!<br />
<br />
I never anticipated being a 24 year old bride. That seems VERY young to me. I always saw myself standing on my own two feet for a while before finding someone. Focusing on career, then family. Perhaps this is because I didn't have many interested suitors for most of my high school and college years, and that the average age of marriage these days is just rising higher and higher due to the economy, divorce culture and a variety of other reasons. <br />
<br />
But just like that, I met Mark in my last month of college, fell madly in love, moved in together after graduation, got a puppy, and got engaged. <br />
<br />
"Life never happens how you expect it to," and "life's what happens when you're busy making other plans" seem to be ringing truer than ever these days. <br />
<br />
And for that, I'm happy.<br />
<br />
Because now that I've found someone who is willing to love me forever, take an interest in all of my day-to-day minutae, fight with me, grow old with me, raise babies with me (though no time soon, my friends!), and all that stuff, the other "is now the right time?" falls away.<br />
<br />
And now comes the time to plan the wedding. Having a wedding is the realization of a once-in-a-lifetime dream. Planning a wedding makes me ANXIOUS. <br />
<br />
See, I'm disgusted by the whole wedding industry. Mostly that one exists at all. In my mind, a wedding is an intimate union of two people and two families. For some it's a religious experience, too. To current wedding culture, popularlized by TLC shows (Say Yes to the Dress, Four Weddings, Bridezillas etc.) it seems more like "gather everyone you've ever known, even cousins you've never talked to and friends you haven't seen in a decade" to flash how much money you have (or how much debt you're willing to go into) and what a great party you can throw for yourself.<br />
<br />
I want our engagement and our wedding to be about Mark and I. About learning how to communicate with each other and love one another for the rest of our lives. About our journey to this point in our lives and about our future as man and wife. About our families who will become relatives with our union. About starting off on the right foot emotionally and financially. About our love for each other. That's some heavy stuff! Cause to celebrate, <em>mais oui!</em> but a much more intimate journey than I want to share with a crowd of 200!<br />
<br />
A wedding is a single day of our lives. A marriage and our future family is forever. <br />
<br />
I'm in it for the forever.Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-82584890786181295932011-10-25T21:42:00.001-04:002011-10-25T21:45:44.465-04:00Leah vs. The Dog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd5Is1ZIafJN9JuUFGqKEkyyFtdMUQhTG2s4h1HEql6np1ZIjGUJA3w7Ea4kU77AhhMPkMLWtE7ahN0ewKPZBwjG3LYZCwpvHNiDqT7b7KZnd15PDparlwm8O_zly1aQgO9uL4YL_e7uab/s1600/DSCN2220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd5Is1ZIafJN9JuUFGqKEkyyFtdMUQhTG2s4h1HEql6np1ZIjGUJA3w7Ea4kU77AhhMPkMLWtE7ahN0ewKPZBwjG3LYZCwpvHNiDqT7b7KZnd15PDparlwm8O_zly1aQgO9uL4YL_e7uab/s320/DSCN2220.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Let me start this off by saying, I, wholly, undoubtedly love my dog. A love like you can't fathom. I'm fairly sure I'm going to love my dog more than I love my future children.<br />
<br />
But being left alone with my dog makes me surprisingly uneasy.<br />
<br />
Here's the thing. Mark knows how to keep a dog happy and busy with no required effort. He tosses the ball, does tricks and entertains our dog all while watching TV, cooking, showering, repairing furniture, studying for the GMAT, whatever. <br />
<br />
When Mark leaves, the dog and I look at each other in this sudden impending, "well, now what?"<br />
<br />
The dog doesn't even pick up his toys, knowing I'm skillfully inept at maneuvering them for effective play. <br />
<br />
I don't multitask well with the dog.<br />
<br />
I can't get anything out of a TV show while I'm peddling tricks and treats for our fair animal friend. It's not natural to me. If he suddenly learned how to join in a dance party (already tried it, he mostly thinks I've had a seizure and wants to stop it), or typed blog posts for me, or massaged my back, or cut my hair, or did anything off my to-do list, we could be good.<br />
<br />
How do I entertain a dog while entertaining myself, i.e. being massively productive at all hours of the day? <br />
<br />
Our little sit-ins start with an epic staring match. And then me pretending like I don't see him looking at like he's totally bored. That goes on for a half hour or until the silence gets to me.<br />
<br />
And then I just talk to him. At least he doesn't criticize or judge me. He thinks all of my ideas are awesome. <br />
<br />
Perhaps that contributes to my productivity after all.Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-14770629906194841432011-06-05T08:34:00.001-04:002011-06-05T10:37:54.619-04:00The Long GoodbyeSo, officially, <u>I'm quitting the New Things blog early</u>. I know some of your will be disappointed, while others will relish that this doesn't show up in their Facebook news feed every day. This is a difficult decision, but I made it for a couple of reasons.<br />
<br />
First and foremost, if it hasn't been pretty obvious, I haven't necessarily been <i>trying</i> to do New Things so much as I have been letting them <i>happen </i>to me and writing about them. That's not the intention I set out with, and not something I feel passionately about continuing for the next 100 some days. <br />
<br />
Second is that I'm just swamped with projects right now, and something has to give. When I have the options of working my day job, planning a New Thing, doing a New Thing, blogging about New Things I'm behind on, blogging for Atlanta Yoga Scene, updating my events and schedules pages on AYS, getting affiliates and advertisers so that I can make money off of AYS, pitching my new business idea, working on the website for said project, actually executing anything, hanging out with friends and family, keeping up with my yoga practice---I'm just paralyzed.<br />
<br />
I have gotten myself into TOO MUCH STUFF, and something has to give. This isn't the first of those cuts, and certainly not the last either.<br />
<br />
But trust me when I say that this blog didn't go down without a fight. In the period since I stopped blogging, I<br />
<br />
<ul><li>Ran the Warrior Dash</li>
<li>Listened to a radio preacher </li>
<li>Did a forearm balance in yoga</li>
<li>Held the littlest baby I've ever held (Mark's sister just delivered!)</li>
<li>Met a documentary filmmaker (film: Marwencol--a MUST SEE!) </li>
<li>Held a seance with my puppy when the power went out</li>
<li>Ate the best pho in Atlanta (as judged by an outside party, not me!)</li>
<li>Visited my apartment complex's swimming pool (we've lived here a year and hadn't been!)</li>
<li>Watched the Casey Anthony trial </li>
<li>Attended and had my name mentioned at Wanderlust</li>
<li>and lots lots more</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpll0X_8Gp1YlmgEuysjNnc0fVVGgn9uaY1u6t0b42NWN03IWlAKSPmK1dgpxKpicHNJV-YK4-z-_vmyKrAEJblDjq3R_iunTE2VbwKv752Wjyzw9LjtqzPimuQ7IvVz1BHSI-rB7X2Wx/s1600/wd.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpll0X_8Gp1YlmgEuysjNnc0fVVGgn9uaY1u6t0b42NWN03IWlAKSPmK1dgpxKpicHNJV-YK4-z-_vmyKrAEJblDjq3R_iunTE2VbwKv752Wjyzw9LjtqzPimuQ7IvVz1BHSI-rB7X2Wx/s1600/wd.PNG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZWwS2dwdlfBT9mwoqurQBb6CN2owbYUX5SqOYCHJIEHJKV8cBbOHHoTISH_zQ0jTzCkKVPOYcvUI0L1LBPoWpwVY4TDfnSlbkwpvA1HiA90rg3Svd0a9ydfCvN9vH2T-i7TNyOlbUzSd2/s1600/MARWENCOL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZWwS2dwdlfBT9mwoqurQBb6CN2owbYUX5SqOYCHJIEHJKV8cBbOHHoTISH_zQ0jTzCkKVPOYcvUI0L1LBPoWpwVY4TDfnSlbkwpvA1HiA90rg3Svd0a9ydfCvN9vH2T-i7TNyOlbUzSd2/s320/MARWENCOL.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMxzcO49FUtcExMu0auYnhI_VrFEHdUvaNnSLnQTvbYle7JUNhxt-uV6lTCH2wycW-6ASOWY9Ux8Zpf1Ap0XiyIGGMC3V-laKHcRCmydNipyBrICVQtmpy0yq1ZZLnA0O4E5wva5xE0Pd/s1600/pho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijMxzcO49FUtcExMu0auYnhI_VrFEHdUvaNnSLnQTvbYle7JUNhxt-uV6lTCH2wycW-6ASOWY9Ux8Zpf1Ap0XiyIGGMC3V-laKHcRCmydNipyBrICVQtmpy0yq1ZZLnA0O4E5wva5xE0Pd/s320/pho.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUaw757Nx1_vb0Ii3UzXcPtH-zpruFimY2WRLySzt6mgV1Tt3lXZ_1ToxmvTLOEzAV9PUUbtGd35KdFDMowEidzRPndmAp_kIuyT_xHJHXr2gVbPUHiRGWFRg93imcyD8Zc4zDzEWLkuQ/s1600/CEB.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUaw757Nx1_vb0Ii3UzXcPtH-zpruFimY2WRLySzt6mgV1Tt3lXZ_1ToxmvTLOEzAV9PUUbtGd35KdFDMowEidzRPndmAp_kIuyT_xHJHXr2gVbPUHiRGWFRg93imcyD8Zc4zDzEWLkuQ/s320/CEB.PNG" width="305" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ErHIMNtJOX3Ds1jkXK_PCrFii0HV8CM5vBpmmrexho5Od6cYZWNYTxUdxjaPXFOYS7viIitzUroXaxLhfZV_D20RzYi8GSc2pwMVS8vd9Ny0BqF8eAmAZUIAo6WJTGSl4sN27u_MEQw2/s1600/Wanderlust.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ErHIMNtJOX3Ds1jkXK_PCrFii0HV8CM5vBpmmrexho5Od6cYZWNYTxUdxjaPXFOYS7viIitzUroXaxLhfZV_D20RzYi8GSc2pwMVS8vd9Ny0BqF8eAmAZUIAo6WJTGSl4sN27u_MEQw2/s320/Wanderlust.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>And, truthfully, this blog has been the catalyst for so much positive, life-altering change that I don't want to downplay it's significance. Learning about web presence, blogging, websites, building an audience, and offering unique content has been the driving force behind me starting both Atlanta Yoga Scene and a side business that might get me out of the 9-5 workforce altogether. My dream! My heart!<br />
<br />
I would love to document this journey for you, because in many ways, this is where it gets interesting, but I need the time and space to explore this fully and without the pressure of reporting my daily dramas.<br />
<br />
Many thanks to all of you who love and support the blog, and always know that now and forever, I'll be doing New Things.<br />
<br />
And one day, sometime in the next few years, when I set my own schedule or I resign myself to one "real" job and one project, I'll start this up again. I can guarantee you that.<br />
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<br />
To the uninitiated, there's a pop culture tradition(?)/action/demonstration of wealth/*thing* where young rich celebrity men throw money in the air in the VIP at clubs. It's called, "making it rain." They can either hold a stack of money and brush one off the top until a stack is gone, or they can just throw the whole stack in the air all at once.<br />
<br />
Why? Who knows. When you're wealthy, be crazy, right? [FACETIOUS]<br />
<br />
On Day 240, <u>I made it rain</u>. Now, I did this at 7:30 in the morning after waking up in the farthest thing from a club (my bedroom) after noticing that Mark had a whole bunch of singles hanging around. I would have been a much cooler person had I done this in a club with Benjamins, but let's be honest--that's not my scene and I'm not willing to pay the $20 cover for the privilege of throwing away my cash.<br />
<br />
But my version was plenty fun anyway :)<br />
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<br />
And, if it wasn't painfully obvious, I don't know <i>exactly</i> what all this means, but Mark was super stoked about the game, and I was stoked to do New Things.<br />
<br />
Win-win.<br />
<br />
Which is ironic since the Hawks lost. Bad. They started out bad and ended bad.<br />
<br />
I did, however, get an awesome t-shirt. <br />
<br />
As for the experience, it was pretty good! I mean, I like basketball. They score a lot and fouls are pretty obvious. There's a lot to be excited about. Other sports like hockey and soccer and even football can be hard for me to follow because scoring and fouling aren't always obvious. I'm a girl. Cut me some slack.<br />
<br />
I guess the best parts of the game were the more tangible things. Mark and I had good seats. I was on the jumbo-tron within the first 15 minutes of the game. I had delicious cold Sweetwater beer and a hot date. I also got those cool wavy white balloons with which to distract free-throwers. All of that made the game awesome. Even if the Hawks lost. <br />
<br />
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<br />
On Day 238, <u>I got my first cell phone bill</u>.<br />
<br />
Thanks to my 2-year anniversary <a href="http://allnew2leah.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-207-i-fizzle.html">iPhone</a> gift, I am now the proud owner of a cell phone bill as well.<br />
<br />
This is officially the last thing my parents were paying for on my behalf (look, I'm not proud of it, but I certainly wasn't stopping it either), and definitely another baptism into the real world, complete with a data package that keeps me connected and entertained 24/7. Worth it? I'm not sure yet. I'm certainly resistant, but also acknowledging that it's AWESOME.Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-58349964510068811612011-05-18T18:49:00.000-04:002011-05-18T18:49:27.883-04:00Day 237: Environmentally FriendlyI've been trying really hard to commit to re-usable grocery bags for a long time. I've had them in my apartment and my car, but I've often forgotten to get them out and use them up until I walk up to the check-out counter. Sporadically, I'd pull them out, but I was never super consistent with it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_R0zK4c6V3w2Gtx7hmFb10ukUX2f4AQfm47zNy2vVGc-x5_Z_iwFx7nfJHqte7jwuam8kxiC00qx_6xphC1W0oFWe6G8pvX12ChyS1JUrDN8iGhVVCT6PgbfUP0T1eqV6Ow3hp4eM5GQ/s1600/reusable+grocery+bag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_R0zK4c6V3w2Gtx7hmFb10ukUX2f4AQfm47zNy2vVGc-x5_Z_iwFx7nfJHqte7jwuam8kxiC00qx_6xphC1W0oFWe6G8pvX12ChyS1JUrDN8iGhVVCT6PgbfUP0T1eqV6Ow3hp4eM5GQ/s1600/reusable+grocery+bag.jpg" /></a></div>Now, I try to use these things because I notice how unbelievably wasteful plastic bags are. You use them once, crumple them up and throw them out. OR, you use them and then fill up some lower cabinet in your kitchen waiting to find a reason to use 3,000 bags again. It kind of bothers me.<br />
<br />
My family has always had this motto of "waste not, want not" and I take it to heart for a lot of things in my life; food, material things, time, etc. It only seems natural not to waste waste too.<br />
<br />
Plus, it's plastic. And knowing that plastic will never degrade in my lifetime also makes me feel bad about the plastic waste I produce...that my children and grandchildren will have to live with for their lifetimes too. Sure, most plastic waste is unavoidable (every freaking car on the planet is plastic), but grocery bags are a plastic that I don't have to waste.<br />
<br />
So I'm committed (read: enslaved) to reusable grocery bags. And they hold so much stuff!!<br />
<br />
*Steps down from soapbox*<br />
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<br />
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<br />
Can you identify what this is? If you can, you'll be the first person in the world to identify this thing that has probably never been done before. CHOCOLATE IS THE REWARD!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTf9L50rzO2Z2BEZ47xCpxcDh6T8YsiP0JhdyDd3-kc86LoIVzIDImN7nf8kP9T1FK136Ua9A96Dagxs35lTuMEaubtt6nueLTvaMf30zgulyiN-WHfbd5yrBVoZzowKkJfC9HSvcFyMG/s1600/DSCN2023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTf9L50rzO2Z2BEZ47xCpxcDh6T8YsiP0JhdyDd3-kc86LoIVzIDImN7nf8kP9T1FK136Ua9A96Dagxs35lTuMEaubtt6nueLTvaMf30zgulyiN-WHfbd5yrBVoZzowKkJfC9HSvcFyMG/s320/DSCN2023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG71kWxxvTg14QUxUOECsyaUoNY8T5ya3VP5iyQEHp3AN9fjjRyoQuv9Znwbm6ZCkYYX2vx1ZMsUsEk24vvd8GNQriywretoRV5EvYyxRvPTzn5vld2JjzHCP_SASlvJJeeUYbvr3zzXMV/s1600/DSCN2025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG71kWxxvTg14QUxUOECsyaUoNY8T5ya3VP5iyQEHp3AN9fjjRyoQuv9Znwbm6ZCkYYX2vx1ZMsUsEk24vvd8GNQriywretoRV5EvYyxRvPTzn5vld2JjzHCP_SASlvJJeeUYbvr3zzXMV/s320/DSCN2025.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>-----------------------<br />
<br />
Many congrats to Sunshine for guessing what this is. <u>I made a green bean UFO</u>! See, I accidentally left them in the microwave, and, not knowing when I'd eat them again, I stuck the bowl in the freezer.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaQC99ukIeGkKl17kBVxMqmpptF4BnYhOuWkOgqUI2ZgZJO1ceu4Fb2uOqwPgOgMNREdQi5HSWZok-tHsMppApieSBUb82vwLdGiUgg45mMBw9zlP1826WY097g956k5Gbaox2hUCZtVQ/s1600/DSCN2020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaQC99ukIeGkKl17kBVxMqmpptF4BnYhOuWkOgqUI2ZgZJO1ceu4Fb2uOqwPgOgMNREdQi5HSWZok-tHsMppApieSBUb82vwLdGiUgg45mMBw9zlP1826WY097g956k5Gbaox2hUCZtVQ/s320/DSCN2020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This is what it looked like BEFORE I turned it over. AFTER I turned it over, I realized that I was maybe the first person in the world to have ever made a green bean UFO. And that makes me proud. <br />
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<br />
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And boy am I jealous of this kid. He had about 50 friends and family of all ages come celebrate his birthday, with cookout-style food, booze, a cake all for him and a bouncy castle. I mean, can I just transport that experience for my 24th birthday coming up?? <br />
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<br />
Then it got worse as I got another website, my dear Atlanta Yoga Scene, where I obsess over more than Google Analytics (which measures the number of people coming to my blog, how they got there, whether they're retuning or new visitors, top content, etc.) but also Facebook stats, newsletter stats, survey stats etc. It's pathetic. I can literally spend 8 hours looking over the same four web analytics programs just salivating at the moment someone new opens, visits, likes my projects.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4dNSHK8hyZVrb6xE59g45Cj6KTSsmtz556huz75H6AfWaDjghO1fHCtwGHfJvRz4XGjuowNtHjEQDlfDyFY66GAlOxtiXyOY_25k0vAJDDcUBFP7np5l4ujrU1u619OI-CfQ-fd1x0hhO/s1600/stats.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4dNSHK8hyZVrb6xE59g45Cj6KTSsmtz556huz75H6AfWaDjghO1fHCtwGHfJvRz4XGjuowNtHjEQDlfDyFY66GAlOxtiXyOY_25k0vAJDDcUBFP7np5l4ujrU1u619OI-CfQ-fd1x0hhO/s400/stats.PNG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vozB2qeZKt42E6qQRWkI3W8unFAJGNfqiRBD1IJe2yEHOeTK6WWdKqc6nubnfX0Sf-jKbeDYrB21Hy0KxWODGI6eGIHuLvaQSCIOar15lY_Sge3XVM1oZhVzKXRVmijiKuvVQOuwAPm_/s1600/facebook+stats.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2vozB2qeZKt42E6qQRWkI3W8unFAJGNfqiRBD1IJe2yEHOeTK6WWdKqc6nubnfX0Sf-jKbeDYrB21Hy0KxWODGI6eGIHuLvaQSCIOar15lY_Sge3XVM1oZhVzKXRVmijiKuvVQOuwAPm_/s400/facebook+stats.PNG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
It's lame, it's unhealthy...and it's the biggest time suck in my day. Period.<br />
<br />
So on Day 233, I unplugged from analytics and put myself on a "DO NOT CHECK THIS EXCEPT ONCE A WEEK ON TUESDAY" schedule. It's tough, and I have slipped up a little (let's be honest, this isn't real-time) but I'm doing infinitely better, and not wasting my life away worrying about who visits my sites.<br />
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<br />
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<br />
<br />
Blogging will resume soon.<br />
<br />
Maybe. <br />
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I, of course, indulged him because it was SO cute, and after I finished dinner, <u>I let my dog lick my plate</u>. It was adorable. He's better than our dishwasher.<br />
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As a side note, I am aware of the mundane-ness of these New Things as of late. I'm thinking I should have waited to either do the whole Atlanta Yoga Scene thing later, or do this blog later, but it is hard "doing" for both. I still feel like I need to justify it, as if anyone else could really manage a full time job, adventurous blog and future yoga phenomenon any better/worse than I've done. I'm hoping, maybe sometime later in the year or in the next couple of years, that I could really give this all the gusto it deserves.<br />
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Such is life. <br />
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Duh.<br />
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15 treats later, we decided there was no use...and Mago is allowed on the couch again.Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-45573559850346569262011-05-04T12:17:00.005-04:002011-05-04T13:32:23.267-04:00Day 229: Osama bin Laden is DeadOn Day 229, Mark woke me up saying "So apparently the U.S. just killed Osama bin Laden." Ho-lee, mo-lee. That's a first...and a last.<br />
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My first reaction was just kind of "wow." What to say? I mean, his death doesn't mean all that much, really. It's largely symbolic, seeing as how al-Qaeda can certainly function without their fearless leader. It was set up to do just that. He was the mastermind behind rallying the terrorist 'troops' to action, sure, but the hierarchy of leaders and cells and even financing are still largely a mystery. It's most likely organized chaos. <br />
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Killing a symbol in this case is probably even worse than killing a real leader, because these unorganized groups of people don't need his marching orders to carry out future terrorist attacks in the name of revenge. It's like killing the Queen of England in a way. She doesn't DO hardly anything, but it's an attack on a sacred symbol and institution that people will respond to. <br />
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I also haven't decided how I feel about the US having killed him. There are people on both sides of the argument, and their points are valid according to their worldview--"all killing is bad" and "he caused the most horrendous act our country has seen in modern history so he deserves the ultimate punishment."<br />
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I guess I look at differently. The benefits I see on keeping him alive include intelligence that we could have gathered...but that's about where it ends. <br />
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I think that killing anyone is a horrendous thing to do, however, why hold him captive and waste more money and effort on keeping him alive? He's already cost our country trillions of dollars and thousands of lives. Why risk him getting out of whatever institution we would otherwise put him in? I've heard of people in maximum security prisons still managing to get drugs smuggled in to them...who knows what kind of communique he might still manage to convey.<br />
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Again, I'm conflicted. I certainly won't rally in the streets about his death (it's a really unique sight to see our country do that!), but I don't know if capturing him without killing him would've been any more effective or impactful.<br />
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At the end of the day, this news means surprisingly little. We'll probably still be hunting terrorists in the middle east for the rest of my life (and probably the lives of my children, too), and we'll never, ever, ever "conquer terrorism." So long as one terrorist lives, be they from the hundreds of terrorist groups like al-Qaeda, Hezbollah, the Taliban, the Irish Republican Army, the USDF of Colombia or what have you we've failed that mission..and always will.<br />
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Should we keep fighting? That's another question with ideological answers based on your experience and worldview--a post for a different day and a different blog. <br />
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But day 226 brought this very, very, very interesting piece of news.<br />
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<br />
I remember in first grade, my friend Elizabeth and I had a pact that I would teach her how to blow a bubble if she would teach me how to whistle. I taught her how to blow a bubble and she NEVER taught me how to whistle. I've been in a rut ever since.<br />
<br />
So I made it one of my missions to whistle a tune for the blog, and Day 228 (after numerous practice days before it) was supposed to be the day. For my tune, I selected Frere Jaques, because I thought the ease of the song would play in my favor. Fewer notes, less complicated refrain, simple note transitions--should've been a piece of cake...but the day has come and gone, and all I have is a very irritated dog. I debated putting up a video, but it would be a pretty pathetic show, and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NCMqWC-_fyY&feature=channel_video_title">I would rather you see me drain water through my nose</a> than whistle pathetically.<br />
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<br />
Well, I didn't exactly <i>plant </i>my own herb garden, but Mark and I bought an herb garden (from the <a href="http://allnew2leah.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-213-heaven-is-farmers-market.html">Sandy Springs Farmer's market, no less</a>) with 5 herbs in it--cilantro, parsley, rosemary, thyme, oregano and basil. On Day 227, I picked basil and used it in a a caprese salad, meaning <u>I picked and ate my own herbs</u>! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGC8aKgR4viORY-UZ_OesNSfsleQVzOQ3LppXMffAIa076D45Dkg83govwd2vcG4vK25kFrA3owDv8a5NdmNiHmCvo70Ug1YBjvO2V-eh7QKL3CXZ1krZHKj7B-61hmvxV_rQzTD5yhjns/s1600/DSCN2003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGC8aKgR4viORY-UZ_OesNSfsleQVzOQ3LppXMffAIa076D45Dkg83govwd2vcG4vK25kFrA3owDv8a5NdmNiHmCvo70Ug1YBjvO2V-eh7QKL3CXZ1krZHKj7B-61hmvxV_rQzTD5yhjns/s320/DSCN2003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
Because <u>I used a neti pot</u>.<br />
<br />
It was one of those things that I had planned out even in my "<a href="http://allnew2leah.blogspot.com/p/about-my-year-long-project.html">About this Project</a>" section of the blog, and I finally fulfilled it. I had been delaying this for most of allergy season though, because frankly, I was terrified... <br />
<br />
Using a neti pot is a traditional Indian Ayurvedic health and wellness practice, and it also happens to be excellent at treating seasonal allergies, of which I have many. This tradition is a way of cleansing the sinuses and nasal passages with a warm saline solution...that you literally pour up your nose and let drain out the other side.<br />
<br />
And finally, on Day 226, I pulled the trigger.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NCMqWC-_fyY" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
It was awesome. Like, my nose feels so clear and refreshed and cleansed and open and breathable. The pouring was surprisingly easy once you just go for it, and I swear I'm going to use it again and again, through seasonal allergies, colds and beyond. TRY IT. NOW. It's the best thing that's happened since Zyrtec.Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-8386569640955111872011-04-29T20:31:00.003-04:002011-04-29T20:47:02.459-04:00Day 225: I just found out there's no such thing as the real world...<b>[DISCLAIMER: Yes, this is longer than my normal posts, and will require you to read.] </b><br />
<br />
It's funny to me how song lyrics have one meaning and grow into another as I get older. If you don't know much about my musical tastes, I've been a longtime John Mayer fan, and his songs have been particularly influential on my high school and college years. I remember one of the last assemblies in high school, I believe it was a rehearsal for graduation, "No Such Thing" was playing on repeat as we walked into the gym. I can't put my finger on why that made an impression--only to say that I was hoping I'd look back with John Mayer's irreverent but knowing eyes one day and see how I had moved beyond the paradigms I had set for myself and the world.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to this project. Earlier in the year, I had asked one of my high school friends, Bruce, to give me some New Thing ideas, one of which was to run through the halls of my high school. I was pretty sure there would be no reason for me to ever go back to my high school, but I wrote it down anyway.<br />
<br />
I really had no interest in ever walking those halls again. I've got some sort of hang-up or resentment or towards high school, and I felt as though returning would classify me as "stuck in the past" or as someone who hasn't moved on with her life.<br />
<br />
I spent most of my high school days slammed with schoolwork from being in the math, science and technology magnet program and strict ballet practice. That, and I never really found a way to fit in. Not that I was an outcast or anything, it's just that I didn't have very many friends, the friends I did have were equally as busy and stressed as I was. Needless to say I didn't have very much fun. <br />
<br />
Come graduation, I remember having this really jaded, sinking, blah feeling about the whole thing...four years of hard work and no fun for what? A seal on my diploma? And it turned out that I went to UGA where I could have likely gotten in for half the work and stress?<br />
<br />
All of these things came back to me when my dad suggested I come with him to help judge the Senior Project presentations at Wheeler. He'd asked me many times before to do this, but I finally obliged, in the spirit of doing New Things and crossing Bruce's suggestion off of my list. <br />
<br />
Just before going though, I had to pop in John Mayer's "No Such Thing" to gather some inspiration. So much of my personality and outlook on life has changed since high school, and so much of it is epitomized in that song. There's no use in breaking it down line by line (I'm already writing a novel here, anyway) but with a little life experience under my belt, I know JUST what he's talking of, and it makes me smile.<br />
<br />
I have been so happy since graduating, and I'm trying every day to "rise above the lie that there's a real world," I still think "the best of me is hiding up my sleeves," and I see that there's "something better living outside the lines..."<br />
<br />
And running through the halls of my high school certainly isn't the most exciting New Thing I've ever done, but it's a lot of personal reckoning for my soul. I wouldn't have found out so much about myself had I not been through those four years, and I've certainly changed in ways that I'm very proud of.<br />
<br />
I'll likely look back on these years in nostalgic reflection too, and what more will I have learned then?? Who knows, but I bet a John Mayer song will be one step ahead of me. :)<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtUKCsmrI6UN9isqK1Bmt7mnuwmUJqnHySfAgKvBYNvOi0jrDulkv9MldHWhoCEx4zh3mNbCSG0kbwriv6qDVmo0okzra-hHFzetmsZBF7nTPa6yZuuV-AS3htqwpnHbS0Y1B43dPVo2z/s1600/DSCN1995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtUKCsmrI6UN9isqK1Bmt7mnuwmUJqnHySfAgKvBYNvOi0jrDulkv9MldHWhoCEx4zh3mNbCSG0kbwriv6qDVmo0okzra-hHFzetmsZBF7nTPa6yZuuV-AS3htqwpnHbS0Y1B43dPVo2z/s320/DSCN1995.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><ol><li>A knife, duh</li>
<li>A candle, although we forgot the matches</li>
<li>Mago's leash</li>
<li>Blanton's bourbon</li>
<li>Band aids</li>
<li>Chocolate Easter bunnies (2)</li>
<li>A half-loaf of bread </li>
<li>Zyrtec (it's allergy season after all!)</li>
<li>A bubba keg of water (that should keep us until we find another water source)</li>
<li>Febreeze (you never know what will stink post-apocalypse)</li>
<li>A trash bag</li>
<li>My iPhone</li>
</ol> Oh...and the most important thing...The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTuOfeuQMDDQuarels8b7dgk6IayRyOWCOPdgT17K_ntc70fxsJhHPcZT8zPcTRhO0xduXLp2qbQN5I592brx3xMVKsLrSChUY1CytHuFAoDz5kf4VD0HLxVAMNDCJgN5_MuN8SIjpnyb/s1600/DSCN1996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTTuOfeuQMDDQuarels8b7dgk6IayRyOWCOPdgT17K_ntc70fxsJhHPcZT8zPcTRhO0xduXLp2qbQN5I592brx3xMVKsLrSChUY1CytHuFAoDz5kf4VD0HLxVAMNDCJgN5_MuN8SIjpnyb/s320/DSCN1996.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Wait no! This is the most important thing!! (Should I just re-name this blog "Pictures of my dog?") </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qWtx_P6bwzoIDsU9gWploYQFFiZBvGLaun81JPsVf-_cJdIALyXpAifuzntlp6Uck0sTHVtW8XC-aJqH2exkPckKcYq3vUbUDS_DgAiRQVPq7EYNsPpq8hBikcZ9z1zdHDsLuMGTTJL-/s1600/DSCN1981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2qWtx_P6bwzoIDsU9gWploYQFFiZBvGLaun81JPsVf-_cJdIALyXpAifuzntlp6Uck0sTHVtW8XC-aJqH2exkPckKcYq3vUbUDS_DgAiRQVPq7EYNsPpq8hBikcZ9z1zdHDsLuMGTTJL-/s320/DSCN1981.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><script type="text/javascript">
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<br />
I haven't finished it yet (only a couple hundred pages in), but it is SERIOUSLY laugh-out-loud, witty and funny. Like, AWESOME. It's just a collection of stories about his life only mixed with a little creative license and a whole lot of witty self-reflection.<br />
<br />
Have you read it?? What was your favorite story from the book??<br />
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<br />
But this particular morning panned out okay after all, even though this sweet face didn't want me to leave:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0KTaZG0Zd2iQd2-tyNuCsnHAgq82SVdUJge-P9sA8O3ITb4ge0H4IfL11vx21EU1ZBWS3AiRggNT48Ppb7FDo2SzRu3PtIMh-ffd6K9cjciqJZ6rhcyh9Ds4xuBKJ7wvLUOEx3is6LlK/s1600/DSCN1993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0KTaZG0Zd2iQd2-tyNuCsnHAgq82SVdUJge-P9sA8O3ITb4ge0H4IfL11vx21EU1ZBWS3AiRggNT48Ppb7FDo2SzRu3PtIMh-ffd6K9cjciqJZ6rhcyh9Ds4xuBKJ7wvLUOEx3is6LlK/s320/DSCN1993.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Anyhoo, this day wasn't super special, but <u>I did travel to Raleigh, North Carolina for business</u>. Why is this significant? I was born in Raleigh!! And I haven't been back since I left at 4 years old!<br />
<br />
I had this sort of "knowing nostalgia" about the whole thing. I've always had an affinity for North Carolina, having that sort of salmon-returning-to-the-birthplace kind of thing. I dunno. It's strange to talk about, but I really enjoy the idea of Raleigh, even though upon return, it just seems like a bunch of strip malls and office parks, much like any semi-suburban, somewhat-urban city is.<br />
<br />
<u>I even actually drove by my preschool--La Petite Academy</u>! How do I know that was it? <i>I just knew</i>...and then asked my parents who confirmed my suspicion.<br />
<br />
<u>And then I actually ate cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory</u>.<br />
<br />
Not a bad business travel day after all!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnv9esLuhjosTxau6K0Zt2SVEhsgoYIXMrSC2LdVAF3LgxKkTLDHqx4hJVbEuOl4AmmC-LoSY6LUgVvRJO7jTP_acrSJqSQeOY24eLbEaVbjpJLz7xgxdUTlBo8-0CUE7vjB4f0QlG7yZs/s1600/coach+yelling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnv9esLuhjosTxau6K0Zt2SVEhsgoYIXMrSC2LdVAF3LgxKkTLDHqx4hJVbEuOl4AmmC-LoSY6LUgVvRJO7jTP_acrSJqSQeOY24eLbEaVbjpJLz7xgxdUTlBo8-0CUE7vjB4f0QlG7yZs/s1600/coach+yelling.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't look anything like this, really...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So I guess things have been ramping up around the ranch--my eagerness to find ways to make money without a 9-5 job is pretty ferocious these days. I'd also like to say that I've become accustomed to a certain way of living and that I'd also like to make as much as I'm making now (if not more) like, tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Okay, so, on <a href="http://allnew2leah.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-219-sweet-preparation.html">Day 219, I prepared for my first client meeting</a>, where I have started just a teeny-tiny side project of teaching yoga teachers how to market their services to find private clients. I'd give you all the secret sauce, but who knows if you're going to steal my idea. I'd kill you. Yogically, but effectively. <br />
<br />
And on Day 221, <u>I finally met with my first client</u> who I coached to help her market her yoga practice to families of kids with learning disabilities. She, in turn, is helping give me direction for a workshop I'm doing with a LOT of people, starting a couple of months from now.<br />
<br />
It's really pretty cool, and may be a way to give me a little cushion to make Atlanta Yoga Scene into a national phenomenon. Not that it will ever make me rich, but it was a lot of fun, and a little thing I think could be really helpful to yoga teachers, who for the most part, bless their hearts, know everything there is to know about yoga and hardly anything about business. <br />
<br />
Want my secret sauce for marketing your yoga teaching? Call me...then tell all of your friends...and your yoga teachers...and anyone who you ever come across who says the word 'yoga.'<br />
<br />
<b>HELP ME LIVE MY DREAM!! </b><br />
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</script>Leah Fulfordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07504195243365775858noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6385142426343342370.post-29788343087113015572011-04-27T14:39:00.002-04:002011-04-27T14:51:30.526-04:00Day 220: Eka Pada SirsasanaOn Day 220, I went to onlYoga to do a cr-cr-cr-crazy yoga class, in which <u>I ended up doing this awesome pose, Eka Pada Sirsasana:</u><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0LgmaZmJF1jtwfSY2LwzAQtgedBP2VnjVTK-QTBRBoAMi3C7692K_zCy_KNc8NHtEWbE0rls0PE6gIgXZZPKW1kfHuur1xUTUfCJ7IBq7uKRi_cHVqgqAiOk96xMI3VNL2ZdaDsnOhmFB/s1600/Eka-Pada-Sirsasana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0LgmaZmJF1jtwfSY2LwzAQtgedBP2VnjVTK-QTBRBoAMi3C7692K_zCy_KNc8NHtEWbE0rls0PE6gIgXZZPKW1kfHuur1xUTUfCJ7IBq7uKRi_cHVqgqAiOk96xMI3VNL2ZdaDsnOhmFB/s320/Eka-Pada-Sirsasana.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I would show you in my own picture, but I barfed this morning and therefore have no interest in photographing myself and I certainly don't want to use my abdominals in any conceivable fashion. Blog be damned.<br />
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