Midweek Treats: the Parlour Pizza + Beer

The past two weeks have been consumed with planning a work event that finally goes down on Thursday.  Today, I shopped for supplies at Wal-Mart and it was horrific, involving ill-timed tax-exempt numbers and store managers who couldn't read.  Needless to say, it was a long day.  And everyone knows what long days merit: beer and pizza.  I've been anxiously waiting for the right moment to try out The Parlor in Hyde Park, as the outside door and deck sings to my love of dive bars with plenty of Newcastle on tap and pizza by the slice warming under heat lamps. 

In Little Rock, I frequented two similar establishments: Pizza d'Action in Hillcrest/Stiff Station and Vino's Brewpub downtown.  I'm getting a little misty eyed thinking about all of the elements that made them special: the fact that I never saw their interiors in day light, the graffiti on the bathroom walls, the throaty garage bands I'd go to see play from high school onward, the PBR...

There is something so inherently comforting about beer and pizza.  It's the cookies and milk of adulthood.  The Parlor didn't disappoint - oversized slices on paper plates, $3.00 pints of Lonestar, local art on the walls, and pool tables in arm's length of a juke box. 

There was also this guy, labeld "David," stalking Eirik from the corner.  He should have gotten Eirik... my lovely room mate trapped a cock roach in a jar candle earlier today and left it on my table.  After getting home, I didn't know there was a cockroach in the jar when I decided it would be nice to light a vanilla  candle to cover up the stink of Catan-playing boys.  Now Eirik is on the phone with Zara recounting how loudly I screamed when I took the lid off.  It's also important to note that when he started giggling, I put the lid back on the jar and hid it in his room.   

One thing I adore about Austin is the mural art on so many of the buildings.  Next Tuesday I get to take my kids on a graffiti field trip of Austin in preparation for a mural they are going to do in the school's club space.

I've lost my roommates to the game of Catan.  I don't really miss them, as the kitchen gets musch less messy when they're occupied...

And in case it wasn't obvious above, we now have our own lurking corner ghoul, although he doesn't lurk so much considering he sparkles like a Twilight vampire in sunlight.  He's now aptly named Sparkles, and he's patriotic. 




It seems only fitting to end with my favorite throaty garage band song: Bastards and Bridesmaids by Two Cow Garage, who I got to see play at White Water Tavern in Little Rock, and unhappily missed recently in Austin.  I won't make the same mistake for the Get Up Kids.     

Motivational Monday: Lessons from Children's Literature on Bravery

“Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."    Christopher Robin to Pooh

I don't squeeze people's hands when I shake them.  I have never known if this is because I am uncomfortable with physical closeness towards people I don't know, if I don't squeeze hard because I don't like having mine crushed in turn, or if it's because of what I was accused of not long ago: being afraid to establish my presence.  

Like a lot of people, I've spent a large portion of my life trying to be inconspicuous and not get into other people's way by avoiding confrontations.  When younger, this manifested itself through the desire to have Airwalk tennis shoes, Jnco jeans, and a penchant for being well-behaved.  The most outlandish things I have ever done with my appearance are my all-black phase (which was more camouflage than a stand-out technique) and a partially-pink hair stint.  These are superficial manifestations, but there were more serious consequences to not wanting to be noticed, such as not participating in class discussions in college, not stating opinions in a public sphere, or seeking permission and approval for everything I want to do. 

It always makes me smile when I see the bumper sticker: "well behaved women rarely make history."  It's true, isn't it?  Since standards of "well-behaved" have shifted over the decades, and often enough the societal norm has been in the wrong - such as when it said certain people couldn't vote, or hold particular jobs, or speak freely. 

I finally finished Sidra Stone's book, The Shadow King.  The main point that I took away from it, is that now when I feel myself starting to get frustrated with myself, a situation, or another person, (especially my roommates), I stop and re-evaluate where my impulse behavior is really stemming from - is it a frustration that is actually my own, or something I've learned - like the idea that I should be demure, that other people should take care of me, that I should take care of the house, that I shouldn't act without the approval of male figures in my life?  When I was considering buying a new camera last week, I realized that I asked the advice of two boys and my father first, and didn't seek any female input or trust myself to make the decision independently.  Why?

At the end of the book, Stone writes "everyone 'knows' that it is feminine to be receptive and available, to be able to interact smoothly and pleasantly with other people and to blend our energies with theirs...as women, it is important for us to have some awareness of our own energy fields and to have real choice in whether or not they are open." She states that "the goal is mastery of your own domain."  It takes a high level of bravery and confidence to declare yourself master of your own domain, as it means you have to trust yourself.

And that's the whole point - you have to trust yourself and your true thoughts, not the ones that you hear in someone else's voice, no matter how closely it mimics your own.   

It seems fitting that Where the Wild Things Are has undergone a rebirth in popularity since the release of the film.  What better to model the balance between bravery, dominion of one's own terrain, as well as accepting (and respecting) the love given us to other people, than a small boy who declares himself king to avoid becoming the dinner of wild things, who at the end of the day boldly weathers a stormy sea to sail home so he can both show and receive love. 

What monsters are you scared of rising up in front of you, or tigers are you worried are waiting on the other side of the door?  Even something as simple as writing a blog post is a challenge for me, since it opens up my words and ideas to ridicule - a terrifying thought.  So this is me being brave, writing in a public sphere with all the possibility of looking silly looming around me.  But, I've decided I don't care, and here's the first step towards acting on courage as opposed to fear:

1) Remember that most monsters are imaginary, and many aren't nearly the threats that they may seem.

2) Let your curiosity be stronger than your fear.  If the door to where you go seems dark and hermetically sealed... find a drill, and start small. 

3) Believe you are the king, (or queen), and declare yourself as such.  Don't be arrogant, but confidant.  You have no reason not to be. 

4) Light your own path.  There is nothing in nature that says a negative force is stronger than a positive force.  Why should it be that way in your head?  Brighten your thoughts and everything around you.

5) Take the first step and trust yourself to know the way.  Getting lost is ok, sometimes that's the point of the trip.  The final destination isn't always what you expect it to be, and that makes the adventure all the more exciting.

With my lighting bolts a glowin' I can see where I am goin'

Yoga & Therapy

One of the things I wanted to try doing as a step towards better self-care was to see a therapist. I went this past week and it was the third time I had ever been to one, the first being my freshman year of college, my second at the beginning of my junior year of college, and then this past Wednesday. I have only been once to each session because I have never walked out of a session feeling "better," usually my feelings are more aligned with words like "exposed" and most recently, "lectured."


I have to be admit that part of the problem each time has been that I always answer the question "why are you here" with the stock response, "someone referred me," thus deflecting responsibility for being there and exhibiting a lack of desire to actually be there, even though that's not true. I felt like this especially set the tone at my most recent session, when I still refused to be honest about my desire to be there and only mentioned the recommendation that I attend from a family member.


The first time I went to therapy I sat clammed up, the second time I cried, and this time I promised myself not to do either of those things, but nonetheless found myself rendered incapable to speak freely, by what mental block I don't know - that's why I was there! - and found the hour veering into directions and topics I didn't find to be issues or worthy of talking about for that long. And it was less talking, and more lecturing about what I should and shouldn't be doing. I left feeling as though I were a weak, uncommunicative enabler. Which may be true, but those aspects would be things I would have liked to work on in therapy, not reasons to be dismissed/accept dismissal. For example, I appreciate being told that it is part of the healthy grieving process to still be angry and sad that my mother passed away, but five years after the fact, I'd like a little guidance in letting off the intensity of those emotions. But according to this therapist, I'm normal. I don't think I'll be accepting normalcy then. I'd like a little more relief than the previous five years have afforded my mentality... or I've afforded myself, I'm not sure which.


Either way, despite my love of reading psychology books, I think my taste for visiting psychologists has soured. I have a few ideas of where my money can be better spent.


Tonight I went to my first yoga class in Austin at Dharma Yoga. I always leave yoga feeling like an untwisted knot, so I don't know why I find it so difficult to commit to regular practice. I've practiced on and off since I was an undergraduate at Fayetteville - perhaps some sort of commitment would be a step in the right direction towards my overall health, since commitment would have been one of the "issues" I would have liked to work on with myself.


In addition to that, I'm interested in seeing a homeopathic doctor who combines life coaching with holistic therapy treatments. Stress and anxiety relief would be my priority. Perhaps I'll go and discover that homeopathy should go the way of therapists, but then I'll just get myself a massage. Which I may do first, anyway. My biggest problem there would simply be choosing one.

Guilt-free laziness

My boyfriend and I have an arrangement where I "live" at his apartment over the weekend. This works for me, because he is borrowing my couches (bookshelves, pots and pans, etc.) while I save up money for my first house. Furniture aside, this arrangement is beneficial for him because I, being OCD over clutter, pick up his dirty clothes, deliver Tuesday night's macaronni dish from the desk to the dishwasher, and let our new dog - Diego - in and out while he is at work on Saturday.


Back in August, when I first began teaching 10th grade, I would always bring lesson plans and homework to grade home with me on the weekend. This idea was quickly nixed - I don't get paid enough to work overtime on weekends, and there is nothing I can do at home that can't be put off until the kids are watching a movie or taking a test. This philosophy, that work and personal projects will always wait for you, is the justification I use to spend Saturday's laying on my couch and watching home decorating shows.


In former years I suffered from a case of "inactivity guilt." Sometimes it still sneaks up on me. Essentially, this is the guilt that makes a person believe they should always be accomplishing something, and lounging moments should be few and far between.


So today, in celebration of a lazy, cloudy Saturday, I want to compile a list of reasons why doing nothing can be a beautiful thing:



*Most people do not get the recommended eight hours of sleep a night. While you can't "make up" lost sleep, you can re-charge yourself by treating your weekends like a mini-vacation - a time for much needed R&R!


*Stress can change people's attitudes and make them bitter and/or mean, especially towards people they are close to. Giving yourself a rest can make you a nicer and more enjoyable person.


*Laying on the couch is economical - it doesn't cost any money! If you were out at the mall or cruising Home Depot looking for projects, that would probably cost a lot of your hard earned dollars.


*Resting decreases anxiety. Walking into work on Monday with less anxiety will make you a better, more productive employee.


*When you lift weights, you tear your muscles and you need to rest in order for them to grow back stronger. Perhaps it is the same for your brain - you work it hard over the week, and then by letting it rest on Saturday, it functions faster and more efficiently on Sunday.


*When are the yogi's wrong? Shavasana, or corpse pose, is often used to both begin and end a good yoga workout. Shavasana involves letting all the muscles in the body untense and relax, and is utilized to quiet and calm the mind. Is it a coincidence that "shavasana" and "Saturday" are linguistically similar and both signal a start and an end? I think not. Untense away.