Bakasana Off!

Bless me Eckhart, for I have sinned . . .

I tried to be so benevolent in yoga this morning that I gave myself a headache. Earthly irritations abounded. The seeker in front of me, who looked like she lost her hairbrush, had her cell phone on vibrate. The first time it went off, she jumped, looked around, then decided no one else could hear it. I don’t know if it was an emergency or not, or if someone found her hairbrush, but that phone vibrated for the rest of the class. Fortunately, the woman slurping her tea helped drown out the noise. Inhale. Ms. Inappropriately-Close on the other side of me kept windmilling her arms in my airspace. Exhale. I retreated to the back of my mat, looking for the power of now. It wasn’t there.

I closed my eyes during mountain pose, and begged myself to remember that we are all part of the same stardust. When I opened my eyes, next door neighbor had moved in and kicked her block onto my mat. I responded with a pretty awesome bakasana (knees on elbows) and aimed my arse right at her. Namaste.

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How Did I Get Up This Creek and Where Is My Paddle?

When San Diego weathercaster, Jaswinder Park, is mysteriously summoned to the island of Maui in Hawaii to help her grandmother, she ends up losing her job. This fair-haired, light-skinned foreigner, called haole by the natives, decides to stay in Maui for a couple of days until she can figure out what to do with her life. She realizes that her quick trip to Maui may not be all she’s hoping for when:

  • She has to bail her Hawaiian/Korean grandmother out of jail for possession of pakalolo.
  • The only thing she can understand her grandmother say is: “Not that.”
  • She can’t decide which hurts worse, her sunburn, hangover, or memories of the night before.
  • She’s labeled the “Liquor Licker” on the front page of the Maui News in a photo that shows her doing a shot of tequila with a hunky Hawaiian who’s been found dead.
  • It seems she’s had orgasms that have lasted longer than her career.
  • She scrapes the bottom of the barrel to find her guardian angel.

Beautiful fabric found in her grandmother’s closet unfolds a future for Jaswinder as she designs sensuous silky wraps called sunshminas that provide sun protection. She tries for a Hollywood connection, but her company, Haole Wood, has some growing pains. From trying to find a killer, to selling her sunshminas, to lusting after Dr. Jac, the island dermatologist, to trying to ignore her so-called guardian angel, can Jaswinder learn to embrace the island way of life? Aloha!

Haole Wood – less pesky orgasms than Fifty Shades of Grey.


Baby, Come Back!

Baby, come back!
You can blame it all on me.
I was wrong and I just can’t live without you.

I’ll never make you go into my kids’ bedrooms again.