nancylicious

"every cell in my body is designed expressly for travel."

Tue, 09 Mar 2010 22:07:35 -0500

“every cell in my body is designed expressly for travel.” - Rachel Adler TRUTH. In less...

2010 ‘BEST DOCUMENTARY’ OSCAR AWARD WINNERTHE COVE -...

Tue, 09 Mar 2010 10:00:00 -0500

2010 ‘BEST DOCUMENTARY’ OSCAR AWARD WINNER
THE COVE - Director Louie Psihoyos

At the Tokyo International Film Festival, where The Cove was reluctantly and controversially screened, Psihoyos was asked, “what scientific proof do you have that dolphins are intelligent?” He replied:

By whose standards? Yours? A butterfly’s? Dolphins have a bigger brain than yours, and you can’t do anything well that they can do. I’m sure they must feel pity for us in when we’re in their environment. They’ve managed to live on the earth for 50 million more years than us with bigger brains and without jeopardizing the whole planet like we have in just a few decades. I’m glad they don’t have the power to ask, “what good are humans?” because it’s scientific proof that we’re destroying the planet. Dolphins are the only wild animal to save the life of humans, and the only way we can save them now is to prove we’ve made their environment so toxic that they are poison and should not be eaten.” [Psihoyos turns to his Japanese interpreter] will that translate?

Dizzamn, Louie. Congratulations on all the awards but you could have at least started by saying SPOILER ALERT.

So, um, I guess this is my warning.

Confession: I’ve wanted to watch this movie since I started crushing on Dave ‘Rasta’ Rastovich, founder of Surfers for Cetaceans. Who is Dave? A vegan yogi pro free-surfer now better known as an environmentalist: in 2007, he led the a paddle-out protest of Taiji, Japan’s dolphin killings alongside actresses Isabel Lucas, Hayden Panettiere, and former wifey Hannah Mermaid (I’m not kidding on the last one). This was a moment documented in the Cove (though, after watching, largely delegated to the ‘Deleted Scenes’ Special Feature) as a part of their mission to expose and stop the annual slaughter of 23,000 dolphins.

The film was expertly layered. In the foreground, we have the urgent, immediate Ocean’s Eleven-esque plot of, “given all the political barricades, how is Louie going to catch the killings on film?” In the background, we have personal Ric O’Barry’s narrative from Flipper Dolphin Trainer to Animal Rights Activist and an inquiry into why Japan persists this practice and its consequences. What the team uncovers is government corruption, the human health hazard of mercury poisoning, and an industry making over 2 billion dollars a year on captured dolphins.

I will say I’m definitely in the “Choir” section of this movie’s preach. As such, while I enjoyed the film, I wasn’t shocked or wowed by the Japanese’s posturing in the International Whaling Commission nor ultimately their reasons for continuing the slaughter. The one part of the movie that did stir within me a visceral reaction was their chapter on the unfit-for-consumption high levels of mercury in dolphin meat, the intentional mislabeling of it, and thankfully unsuccessful campaign for it to be included in children’s compulsory school lunches nationwide. As such, I was immensely appreciate of the DVD’s “Mercury Rising” Special Feature where they talked to scientists who underwent a ‘Supersize Me’ diet of eating less than a cup of tuna a day and tracked how quickly their mercury levels rose. As someone who eats fish and eggs as her primary animal protein, this frankly freaks me the fuck out.

Overall, a great documentary on-par with Food, Inc. And yet, while The Cove absolutely has merit, I wouldn’t be surprised if it partly won because it’s easier to criticize another country’s politics, pollution, and food culture over taking that same log out of our own eye.

FACT: Today is International Women’s Day.FACT: In Mandarin...

Mon, 08 Mar 2010 15:00:18 -0500

FACT: Today is International Women’s Day.
FACT: In Mandarin Chinese, 3/8 means ‘Bitch.’
FACT: This is how I remember that today is International Women’s Day.
image via

"‘And I have a lot of self-esteem, which is amazing, because I’m probably somebody who wouldn’t..."

Mon, 08 Mar 2010 14:20:25 -0500

“‘And I have a lot of self-esteem, which is amazing, because I’m probably somebody who...

MARCH 6, 2010 - LITTLE SUMMERimage from (taken in...

Sat, 06 Mar 2010 13:03:46 -0500

MARCH 6, 2010 - LITTLE SUMMER
image from (taken in Nosara!)

Confession: this little guy is what might keep me in Nosara over ‘Little Summer’.

As soon as I started mentally preparing myself to spend June through October in California, I began to think of all the wonderful things I’d be missing by skipping over Nosara’s veranillo. The first thing that came to mind was no! I’d be missing the halloween crabs!

I love the halloween crabs. They come out to spawn during rainy season. If you should you ever find yourself on a dirt path near the ocean during this time, the ground and foliage are covered with them. And as you walk past, they will quietly crawl out of your way, making you feel as though you are Moses, parting a sea of orange-red-purple crustaceans. It turns a simple stroll across town to living inside a Disney animated movie.

And with that first thought, I started compiling a list of all that I love of Little Summer: the regular afternoon showers, the cooler temperatures, the even less people, less crowded line-up. Getting caught in thunderstorms and improvising trashbags as raincoats. The champinones. I know that list seems small but my wants and needs are simple here. And truly, these are the things that give me claps of delight.

The only reason why I’d want to return to the States was to get my city culture fix. I am on my last disc of Lost, Season 5, after which I won’t know what to do. I miss art, indie cinema, a good variety of books (which I don’t have to plan months in advance), and world cuisine made my someone else’s better skilled hand. I miss variety; I miss choice. But I already will be home for a month - will that be enough to sate my desire?

My first fantasy was to be Sidney Fife for five months: living on Venice Beach, doing daily yoga, writing regularly, wearing hawai’ian prints and madras simultaneously, and walking a dog named Anwar Sadat. But how long with that nourish me? Sustain me? Or is there something else I should altogether? What happened to Europe?

Truly, tell me: if you just spent the last six months living in the beach / jungle, what would you do?

MARCH 4, 2010 - YOKED The word ‘yoga’ originates...

Thu, 04 Mar 2010 10:00:00 -0500

MARCH 4, 2010 - YOKED

The word ‘yoga’ originates from Sanskrit work ‘yuj’, meaning ‘to unite’. It shares an etymology with the word ‘yoke.’ And according to urbandictionary.com, to be ‘yoked’ means ‘to be well built; having a high level of muscle definition; ripped; cut.’

This can be no simple coincidence.

And last night - after almost two weeks of enjoying my body in a passive, yin state receiving countless massages - I decided, enough! let’s get my yang on.

Yoginis: you can call it kundalini energy, you can call it activating my pranamaya kosha. Call it whatever you want, but I want to get yoked. How awesome is that word? yoked, Yoked, Yoked.

Genuinely excited for Project Bounce-a-Dime-Off-My-Ass. There may be boxing. There may be breakdancing. There may be hula hooping. There will be no rules. The world is my bench press.

My body wants to high-five my mind right now.

Picture taken 5 years ago

GPOYW - ‘BEDHEAD’ EDITION I grew it myself.

Wed, 03 Mar 2010 11:26:42 -0500

GPOYW - ‘BEDHEAD’ EDITION

I grew it myself.

THE HELP - KATHRYN SOCKETT I picked up this book on...

Wed, 03 Mar 2010 10:13:45 -0500

THE HELP - KATHRYN SOCKETT

I picked up this book on Kristin’s recommendation. I didn’t skim it; I didn’t even read the book jacket. I just picked it up last minute at Barnes & Noble and that was that. I opened it last Monday, hoping that it would be a good way for me to wind down for early nights in bed.

After reading the first chapter - as narrated by a southern black maid in the 1960s named Aibileen - I winced. In first person, her chapters were heavily peppered with phrases like Law have mercy but something’s gone have to be done. I looked at the back book flap with concern. The white young female author’s face peered up at me. Is this fo’real? I thought. Is she writing from the perspective of the mammy archetype? Is it just me or is this the literary equivalent of putting on blackface? I felt embarrassed for the author for thinking this was a good idea. Except, by the end of the novel, it was.

‘The Help’ is a novel told through the first person perspectives of three women in Jackson, Mississippi: two black maids - i.e., the help - and a single white woman named Eugenia ‘Skeeter’ Phelan who appears destined for spinsterhood. Having recently graduated from Ole Miss, Skeeter returns home to the Mean Girls equivalent of Southern suburban living. She finds herself at heads with former friend ~~Regina George~~ Miss Hilly, who is tactless and outspokenly pro-segregation. Through a series of events, Skeeter finds herself composing a book of interviews with the maids of Jackson, invoking sympathy for the disempowered black underclass and exposing the hypocrisy of its white “domestic” housewives. And yet - will there be, if any, consequences of this expose?

I enjoyed the way this novel deftly touched on feminism, racism, classism, and well, humanism. Despite my best attempts to put the book down and go to sleep, I found myself wanting to get through one more chapter … and then another. If I were to use one word to describe this novel it would be plot-driven. Not one of my top 5 novels, but definitely a good book club read. After reading this, you want to - or at least I do! - discuss the characters with girlfriends. Do we love/hate Minny Jackson? Miss Celia? etc.

PRANASSAGE: IN PROGRESS REVIEW i like my body when it is with...

Wed, 03 Mar 2010 10:00:00 -0500

PRANASSAGE: IN PROGRESS REVIEW

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.

Pranassage has given me a different appreciation of my body. As a woman, the first sense with which I apprehend my body is sight. How has my body changed since yesterday? Does my waistline look smaller, my stomach tighter? Do I look bloated? And what’s up with this zit? Will it ever go away? Yoga gave me one form of insight into my body: I marvel at how it supports me, how strong it can be. It’s so much stronger and often times more intelligent than my mind gives credit. Pranassage has now given me to appreciate my body as a receiver and giver of touch, one of the underhyped five senses.

i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will

I discovered I love giving bodywork. I love seeing a body at rest before me, moving subtle up and down, its breaths even and calm. I love knowing that I am going to take them on an adventure and we aren’t even going to leave the room. You’re going to get worked, I think, and you will love it. I eagerly anticipate walking the heels of my hands up and down their limbs, rhythmically pressing my full weight into their hands and forearms. Finding my way to their neck, shoulders, feet. Pranassage allows me to appreciate my body as something that gives someone else sensual pleasure.

again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh … . And eyes big love-crumbs,

I think a lot of people - especially men, though I could be wrong here - cannot distinguish sensual from sexual touch. I have many guy / exboyfriends who associate massages with the ‘happy ending’ variety, and have declined bodywork altogether. Perhaps they fear their body will betray them, they too sensitive or the touch too close. One finally saw my therapist after falling down a flight of stairs and walking out of balance for a week. He only let her massage his legs.

Out of 33 students in our class, only 6 are men. That’s less than 20 percent. I’m grateful I got to work extensively with 2 of them during our time together. I was so happy when I received them as my partner. They were both bigger than me. I couldn’t wait until our practice, when I would ask them to place their full body weight on me so I could feel my bones. I couldn’t wait for their strong confident touch, their hands to push my back and rake my ribs. And I couldn’t wait until it was my turn to give.

To be honest, I am probably on the heavier side of my weight range right now (though I don’t own a scale or a full-length mirror here). And guess what - strangely, I don’t care! This weight, my height - 5’ 7” - and my muscles are to my advantage in Pranassage. There is more of me to offer resistance against clients, more of me to support them, enclose them, make them feel safe. No one is going to sit on me and worry that I will break. And someone actually called my stomach toned last week!

Never have I been happier not to be a skinny fat waif. Skinny fat waifs can’t work you like I can.

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

I will be receiving my first client outside of class tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!

image from (note: this is a hot stone massage, not pranassage)

poem by e.e. cummings

MARCH 2, 2010 - ON ‘SEXY’ Confession: I never...

Tue, 02 Mar 2010 11:06:00 -0500

MARCH 2, 2010 - ON ‘SEXY’

Confession: I never understood the hypermediated version of sexy. I never understood all the elaborate underpinings, all the pictures of models, actresses, and model-slash-actresses standing pigeon toed in high heels. I don’t understand the significance of leaning pensively against walls or high-speed motor vehicles. When do women pose like this in real life? Oh hi honey, what am I doing? I always lie wet on the concrete by the pool in my feathered monokini, knees bent, toes pointed, and back arched wearing a shit ton of jewelry.

To me, these images don’t look sexy; they look uncomfortable.

My sexy is duck diving. It is surfing in bikinis. It is tucking a 6’8” board beneath my arm, resting against my hip. It is a body in motion that stays in motion. It is being surrounded on by the ocean, body wet and glistening, and watching rainbow-hued sunsets. It is short, frayed, faded denim shorts and tan, long and lean legs. It is easy laughter. It is a dull, sweet ache in my muscles the next morning. It is that delicious first-of-the-day full body stretch, accompanied by soft whine moans and groans. Sexy is no makeup, just lip gloss.

Sexy is riding on fixed gear, single speed, or beach cruiser bicycles. It is one pant leg rolled up.

Sexy is your strong hand running through my hair, grip tightening, pulling my head back. It is kissing hard.

Sexy is wearing your collared shirt and not a ‘boyfriend’ version of your original. It is sitting on a bar stool in your kitchen the morning after, drinking black coffee, with genuine bedhead, sans artifice.

image via

Toro Y Moi - Blessa | via hipsterdiet This is delicious.

Mon, 01 Mar 2010 19:15:17 -0500

Toro Y Moi - Blessa | via hipsterdiet

This is delicious.

MARCH 1, 2010 - TSUNAMI ALERT I hit the snooze alarm at 5:54 AM...

Mon, 01 Mar 2010 09:41:39 -0500

MARCH 1, 2010 - TSUNAMI ALERT

I hit the snooze alarm at 5:54 AM Saturday morning. I was lying in bed, half-conscious, and wondering if I would make it to 6:30 AM yoga. I can miss one class a week and still graduate, I thought to myself. I can let myself off the hook just this once.

Through the fog of my mind, I heard footsteps approaching my house. I heard a knock. “Coming” I mumbled, but did not climb down fast enough. I saw my landlord walking away from my footpath and outside into the street. What could she want at this hour? I thought. Did JM stop by to cancel the 9 o’clock yoga class he booked last night?

I called out after her. “AM, did you just knock on my door?”

“Yeah, didn’t know if you were home,” she turned around. “I thought you might have left for class already. There was a 8.8 Earthquake in Chile this morning, 3 AM. We’re on tsunami alert.” AM started walking towards our neighbors across the street.

“Oh, okay” I replied. “Thanks.” Now I was definitely awake and had no reason to miss yoga.

________________________

i can’t wait for the boyf to come (one week six days)! i have off for midterms and we are going to deserted islands/beaches!!!!!!!!!

LBK wrote this to me in an email in December 2004. I was living in China at the time and she in Thailand. Spring semester of senior year, I had managed to convince her to move to Southeast Asia after graduation. I pressed a Lonely Planet into her hand before Spring Break and she came back my partner-in-teaching-English-abroad. YES! We conspired to meet up over the holidays in Vietnam. In the midst of planning logistics - visas, flights, itineraries - she slipped in these sentences.

Two weeks later I was in Taiwan for the holidays, watching the news with my parents. Unfiltered minute-by-minute coverage of the tsunami. My parents had intended to fly to Bali after New Year’s. As they worked with their travel agent to find a suitable substitute - settling on Hainan Dao, China’s Hawai’i - I tried to put together the puzzle pieces on LBK. Did her vacation start yet? Where were these islands?

________________________

In Costa Rica, all beaches are public beaches. The closest one can get to “owning” ocean front property is getting a long-term lease from the government on any land 200 meters from midtide.

When I was looking for a place to live last summer, it was important for me to be as close to the beach as possible. My primary modes of transportation would be foot and bike. I lucked out by finding a place in the heart of the Playa Guiones beach community, within five minutes walk of both my workplace and the waves. Nestled in the backyard of a larger property, the only thing separating myself from the ocean is a thicket of reeds and tall grass. My first night living here I couldn’t sleep. I was too amazed at how clearly I could hear the waves.

In other words, my cabina probably sits right on the 200 meter line. If a large-scale tsunami were to happen, I would be the first to die.

This is not to be morbid or self-important. This is to be honest.

Although I made it to 6:30 yoga, I snuck out early. I committed the cardinal sin of skipping out on savasana to bike to the Organic Market. I would be meeting JM there for a ride to teach his 9 o’clock yoga class. I can never turn down a chance to teach on his property. The view from their yoga studio is amazing.

Thus, by sheer coincidence, I spent my late Saturday morning at the highest residence I know in all of Nosara. We watched the tides from his patio and saw nothing abnormal. That afternoon, I would find we were hit with a .8 foot surge. Exhale.

________________________

On December 28, 2004, LBK wrote back:

Hey Nancy,

Sorry I couldn’t get to u sooner! I am lucky and safe and did I mention lucky.

The boyf and I were on a boat to the Similans just far enough out to sea that the wave formed between our boat and the land. We are so lucky - in the only right place at the only right time. We slept on a pier the night before and had the wave come an hour and a half earlier we would have been washed away. If it had come an hour and a half later we would have landed in the island and been stranded. We had an incredible woman who was captain of the boat we were on and she made a good decision not to let people off onto the island (which 10 hours later was under water). We stayed at sea all day and went back in the evening- we had to climb up a pier and were driven to a shelter. There were cars washed into trees and a boat washed onto land. She then took us to a school that was on a hill and we waited there until morning. There were are a lot of people there who were missing family members, saw family members die, were injured, or lost their home it was really sad. We were almost the only English speakers and we hooked up with a Canadian couple who had been carrying people out of the water all morning. They were sort of freaked so we helped them settle down and in the morning I spoke with a Thai family that drove us to a bus station where we got a ride to Bangkok . After a long trip we are safe. We are so lucky, we weren’t hurt, separated, didn’t see anything too traumatizing, and we even have all of our belongings because we were planning on camping in the Similan Islands so we had brought our stuff on the boat. I can’t really comprehend how lucky we are - our timing the location everything. Thanks for checking up on us. I miss you. Have a really really happy new year- i know i am really appreciating this one.

Mwah, LBK

You can read a more detailed account of her experience here.

You watching me watching Lost, Season 5.

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 23:42:57 -0500

You watching me watching Lost, Season 5.

OVERHEARD IN THE WATER AL: I cut around the back and then I...

Sun, 28 Feb 2010 20:14:06 -0500

OVERHEARD IN THE WATER

AL: I cut around the back and then I choked it.
ME: Um, is that good or bad?

ME: (missing a wave) ARGH!!!! I was too far back on the board.
SAM: Next time, you just have to lean in and rock your hips forward.
ME: That’s what she said.

image via

Adaptation.

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 17:39:32 -0500

lonelysandwich: Charlie Kaufman: There was this time in high school. I was watching you out the...

New York - I stole your yoga teacher this morning. She started...

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 11:41:00 -0500

New York - I stole your yoga teacher this morning.

She started us with our backs on the mat, eyes closed and asked us if we could only pack one quality into our life for the next ten years, what would it be?

I have a weak solar plexus, place of the third chakra. I chose to pack confidence.

We continued our movements together, moving from lying to sitting to standing. Midway through, Amy put “Empire State of Mind” on and let us find our own yoga practice.

I did not know that I need this song or this improvisation, but my body knew. I opened my hips to both sides, alternating three-legged downward dogs. I found pigeon, king pigeon, my warriors, binds, and birds of paradise. I came into tripod headstand. The motions were rhythmic, dynamic, and timed to the music. I let the movements undulate through my spine, forward and back, traveling from upward to downward dog and back again. I placed my hands together, thumbs placed on my third eye.

Are you fighting for your limits or are you fighting for yourself?

She called us back into a group practice with “or continue your own practice.” I weaved in and out - finding my hero pose, her bridge, yogi toe stand. My supported handstand, her side planks. I saw other instructors walk through the room, offering their assists. I rested in child’s pose, sending out I WANT A SACRUM PRESS!!! vibrations. No one heard me but I realized that Amy’s support at the front of the room was enough. We formed a semi-circle around her, a rainbow of multi-color yoga mats.

Are you inspiring you? If you won’t, who will?

So to keep it short, I did find confidence this morning.

Amy Elers teaches at both New York locations of Pure Yoga.

Idea Alert: All Future Questions Will Be Answered in Video Format

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 11:35:01 -0500

Idea Alert: All Future Questions Will Be Answered in Video Format: Just sayin’.

A pupil approaches his Zen Master and asks: “Master, what is the meaning of life?” The Master...

Thu, 25 Feb 2010 10:00:00 -0500

A pupil approaches his Zen Master and asks: “Master, what is the meaning of life?” The Master...

beatingheart: I’ve always liked the time before dawn because...

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 23:46:31 -0500

beatingheart:

I’ve always liked the time before dawn because there’s no one around to remind me who I’m supposed to be, so it’s easier to remember who I am. -Brian Andreas

Photo - Pacuare Reserve, Costa Rica (May 2009)

Oceanview+Sunrise/set+Costa Rica = AUTOREBLOG

Juicing Update

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 23:15:42 -0500

Kristin is juicing till dinner and says: The Cons That thing is a BITCH to clean. Like,...