Sweat
Posted on July 29, 2007
Been majorly stressed recently having returned to the working world in a quite demanding teaching role plus trying to finish the revisions to my manuscript - now with a deadline looming. So feeling a little tense.
Anyway a friend suggested a Bikram’s Yoga class - which she raved about and goes to virtually every day. So my daughter and I went along last night to give it a try. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love yoga but add heat to 40 degrees with 50% humidity and it’s a whole other ball game. Whew! Our faces just got redder and redder, the sweat was dripping and hands were so sweaty it was hard to grip.
The instructor really challenged us with the philosophy of building our intestinal fortitude and asked us as beginners to simply focus on staying in the room. Around about the one hour mark (it goes for 90 minutes) that was the only thing that stopped me bolting for the door. I felt so nauseous and dizzy and was convinced I was going to faint - and was frankly looking forward to the break!
OMG to was good to get out of there! It was so coooool outside the room and the world was a beautiful place. Felt very spaced out and relaxed all evening and had a fabulous night’s sleep.
I dunno - maybe I’ll even try it again. Maybe.
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On Chesil Beach
Posted on July 18, 2007
Just finished Ian McEwan’s new novel ‘On Chesil Beach’ which is very short at 180 pages - lucky cause I’m a very busy woman but managed to squeeze in a little bedtime reading over a few nights.
Bedtime is the theme of this book as it revolves around the wedding night ‘issues’ of Edward and Florence as they approach the sacred moment of their union - he with lick-lipping anticipation, she with absolute dread and revulsion at the thought of this consumation of their adoring love. As the evening builds to a climax (sorry) we journey back through their relationship and explore their individual characters - can’t say more cause I’ll wreck it for you.
It’s an odd subject revolving just around this one night but in the context of 1962 it’s a world away from the Paris Hilton approach to sexual liberation. Ian McEwan is quite interested in unlying sexual strangeness I have observed but he’s just a fabulous writer and so it’s always an education to read him. All his books are unsettling in some way.
‘Enduring Love’ is one of my favourite books ever, so compelling I was getting up extra early to read it in peace. The sort of book you press on friends because you want to share and discuss.
I envy anyone who hasn’t started on Ian McEwan’s work - start at the beginning, read ‘em all.
Sad Cafe
Posted on July 10, 2007
Yesterday I had to take my youngest son out to Sydney’s Olympic Park where he had soccer training and, with a three hour wait ahead, I set off in search of coffee. The only outlets for any food are franchises and so, of course, the only option for coffee was a Gloria Jeans.
I hate to whinge but…what a sorry excuse for a cafe! One thing I did anticipate as I approached the store was I had some idea that they had comfortable furniture, however, this outlet obviously didn’t qualify for that little luxury. It had hard furntiture, wobbly tables, the floor was filthy (at 10am).
The staff had obviously been through that training programme where they teach you to fob people off without ever making eye-contact. Never actually get customers anything, just point in the general direction of where they can find it themselves.
The food was all made for the big guy at the top of Jack’s fabled beanstalk. Do muffins need to be the size of cauliflowers? Even the slice of banana bread was a doorstop. The ‘normal’ coffee was twice the size of my idea of normal and utterly tastless which is probably why I saw people squirting what I initally thought was tomato sauce but realised it was probably caramel goo into their coffee.
I can’t imagine (and can’t bear to imagine) that this is the future for that cosy, inviting establishment that serves really flavourful quality coffee and delicious morsels of fresh hand-made food we know as a cafe. A truly vanilla experience.
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Eat, Pray, Love
Posted on July 4, 2007
When I saw the (v. nice) cover of Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert in the bookshop I thought it was going to be another one of these preachy get-in-touch-with-yourself books and passed it by. Then it was recommended to me by a male friend whose opinion I respect and so I made the committment.
Although I have a zillion things to do right now I’ve just had a few days away and it feels as though I have actually been to Italy, India and Bali with Elizabeth Gilbert whose writing is absolutely top-notch and her story totally involving.
The short version is that she has a slow-burn breakdown over about three years and finally leaves marriage and security to pole-vault into a passionate on again/off again love affair which pretty much finishes her off emotionally. She finally picks herself up and manages to sell her publisher on the idea that she will spend four months each in Italy, India and Bali in her quest to find happiness. Smart girl!
She takes us on her spiritual quest heart, body and soul and you can’t fail to admire her courage in even setting out on this journey which she writes about with wit and humour and an almost embarassing honesty. I won’t spoil the ending for you except to say she deserves every bit of happiness she finds. Just one of those books you are so sad to finish.
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