methuselah / by vanessa

I'm procrastinating on writing a presentation that was due on Friday. Instead I'm offering this depressing blog. Depressing, you ask? Why's that? Because today I was mistaken for Renee's MOTHER. Her mother!!! Wtf? Here's what happened: Renee's been all giddy about this nail salon down the street. They give you bottled water, she says! So okay, I'll bite. Not because I care about bottled water, but because I too was suckered in by the owner's story. We scheduled pedicure appointments and walked down there. They seat us right away and as they're preparing the hot water soak, the owner looks at me and asks Renee, "Who is that? Your mom?" Renee looks at me in that oh-shit-this-one's-gonna-send-her-over-the-edge kinda look, and laughs, "No that's my roommate." I almost cried right there in my seat. I am indeed 4 years older than her, but jesus -- do I look TWENTY years older?

Yoga Brain kicked in and I started repeating all the aphorisms I've read about and at times experienced for myself. You know, stuff like, "Focus on the impermanent," and "Suffering is optional," and of course, "Don't be so shallow." Reality, however, had a different opinion. I felt sad. Really sad. Later, I went to practice. As I moved through the asanas, I felt grateful for my strength and flexibility and yet still wishing I could pretend like it didn't matter that someone confused me for an AARP member. And oh yeah, how did I get the short end of the genetics stick? Both my parents have amazing skin. Christ, my dad is out in the sun all day, every day and you'd never know he's 62. So, I wish I could report some happy ending but right now I'm still bitter.


In other news, I've noticed that subtle shifts in my yoga practice have a gateway effect on my whole body. V. exciting.