Yoga + Dining + Community.

Pals o'mine. I don't want you to get off your rocker excited and hurt yourself now. But this Friday, March 16 will launch Downward Dining, a new yoga and dining experience in LA. To tell you it's going to be amazing would not be enough. To tell you the yoga teacher for the launch can do things you only dreamt possible in Cirque shows--To tell you that your meal of M Cafe goodness and Bella Savour vegan cupcakes and Honest Tea awesomeness will knock your socks off--To tell you that the gift bag will be heavy. And it will be good. And it will excite you--None of this would be sufficient.

So, I guess you'll just have to come and see for yourself.

Tickets are available (but not for long) at www.downwarddiningeventbrite.com. Get yours.

And tell your friends.

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Yoga + breakdance + grace. [video]

If I could do even one of these arm balances for 10 seconds, I would be happy. This guy can do them while breakdancing, appearing as though this routine is what he casually does before breakfast every morning. He probably does.

Break ton Neck from Alex Yde on Vimeo.

The incredible song, if you're wondering (you must be), is by Awolnation. [via Yoganonymous]

Sunday bliss, LA style.

According to weather.com, it's currently 79 degrees in Los Angeles. Let's just accept that as a truth and a basis for everything else about today.

Now that we understand that it's warm (read gorgeous) out, let's walk together through the perfect day that was [and is and will be for a while] today.

9:30 a. Wake up late. If feel a bit sad that a wake up time prior to 10 am now constitutes a 'late' rise, but ce la vie--we're not in college anymore I guess. The internal clocks just don't work like they used to.

10:00 a. Read the NY Times' Weddings & Celebrations section. This is Sunday ritual. I'd like to confirm in case you don't know that this is perfectly normal and healthy behavior for a girl in her late 20s and not a cry for single help. I just like the romance. Today, I read and feel a little bit bad for Patience, one of the featured brides, who keeps referring to her now husband Sam as 'popular.' I hope that her weird high school status issues don't haunt her marriage and wish them luck.

10:45 a. Decide that a nap is not a good idea just an hour after I woke up and opt to go to yoga instead. I also decide walking might be fun given the awesome, amazing, inspired (are you getting this New Yorkers??) weather we are having in LA this weekend.

11:00 a. With just half an hour before class time and a 2 mile walk from Koreatown to Larchmont ahead, I book it. As it's sunny and hot out already, I break a sweat in just a tank top.

11:30 a. Class with Amy LaFond, one of YogaWork's best and most popular teachers. Amy's classes are always tight and even tighter post-New Year when everyone's returned to their workout routine as part of some so-called resolution. I secretly hope that everyone's resolutions are forgotten by February. But our mats are close and I am glad I wore deodorant.

1 p. I stroll through the Larchmont Farmer's Market. Since I'm already here and all. I eat samples of scones and fruit and I do it with no intention to buy anything and I feel okay about it.

1:15 p. I've seen enough young couples and their babies and their dogs and their yoga mats on Larchmont for one day. I remember I walked 2 miles to class today. I realize that means I have to walk 2 miles home. What goes up must come down. What goes on feet somewhere must go on feet back. Unless she's a hooker and catches a ride. But I'm not. So I walk.

2 - 5 p. I wash dishes. I clean floors. I sit around in my studio in not much at all and don't run somewhere fast or run errands or call anyone. The light is still coming in through the shades and I read. I lie around and I'm happy about it cause I need this some Sundays.

That's Sunday in LA people. That's Sunday bliss right there. Booya!

[image via la.streetsblog.org]

There's a special on mindfulness at Fred Segal in Aisle 4.

I generally don't step into Fred Segal unless I am experiencing urges to torture my inner shopper and punish my wallet.

But as it turns out, Fred Segal's just reopened one space in its Santa Monica location which I can enter with peace of mind and only the lightest of grips on my billfold--the Fred Segal Yoga studio.

And while classes won't be free, the studio is hosting a complimentary workshop this weekend--An Insight with Matthew of One World Academy.

Enjoy your breakthrough experience sans the breaking of the bank, courtesy of Fred Segal Yoga tomorrow. Nama-freaking-ste.

[via Vital Juice]

New Year's Resolution: pretend to train to run a marathon.

I'm a little late for New Year's Resolutions, I know. But publicly declaring aspirations which one knows one will likely never see fulfilled is never inappropriate. Several days ago, I decided that it would be grand to attempt to run a marathon in 2010. Now, this is not the type of resolution one makes lightly. Quitting carbs--easy--just throw the bread away and substitute with hunks of cheese and gobs of peanut butter--delightful. Being 'nicer' to people--a little less honking of the horn and cutting folks off on line should suffice. But running a marathon--that's tons and tons of bloody work for, like, months at a time.

But in an effort to keep to this resolution which I may or may not have been tipsy while making, I'm looking at the bright side--the reasons why training for a marathon--or at least pretending to for a week or two--is worth my time.

1. Running sheds pounds, or so I'm told. And I've got a few pounds left to shed. Should the physical and mental benefits of training take precedence over superficial weight loss--sure. But...well, I have no excuse. I simply care more about the fat busting.

2. There are some really snazzy outfits out there for running. Tonight, for instance, I dropped over $300 at Lululemon, the overpriced outfitter for yuppy yogis and stylish runners. To put this in perspective, this is nearly half my monthly rent. But the pants I bought just shaped my butt so nicely. I had intended to hit the gym in my new gear this evening. After forgetting the shopping bag in my backseat, I decided eating dinner was far more pressing. I will workout tomorrow...I'm sure...possibly.

3. There is community to be built while you and your newfound running buddies kill yourselves over 26 godawful and unnatural miles. I look forward to start training with my enthusiastic friends--those who don't yet know I can't run over a mile and don't really like to sweat. I envision post-workout smoothies and rendevous at coffee shops to pore over running magazines. It's just the actual running together which I can't quite wrap my head around.

[Image Credit: BBC]

Shop: There is no godly excuse for TubeFlops.

I was in Santa Barbara this week. And while I'll get to all the amazing parts of that trip in a later post, I need to get the worst part of the adventure off my chest. In an outdoorsy store on State Street--you know, the type of shop that sells hiking shoes and godawful tie-dye yoga pants and straw hats with detachable water bottles--I came across TubeFlops, or what may otherwise be described as the most offensive shoe to ever enter my line of vision.

TubeFlops are, as the name might imply [if you're the type who appreciates cutesy contractions like Brangelina and Cockapoo], part tube sock, part flip flop. And they are awful. The only possible explanation for their purchase is if you are dying for a pedicure in a cold-weather climate. To which I'd suggest you skip the foot grooming before stepping into these monstrosities.

Seattle - Day 2: Space Needle's a bust + views from Queen Anne + Capitol Hill rainshowers

There was no rain on Day One in Seattle. Apparently Day One was a fluke. A bad, bad, misleading fluke.

From the moment I awoke this morning, Seattle was dark and rainy. I would persevere--the solo traveler--despite this, but with slightly more reservation than the day before.

Here are the highlights from my adventures on Day Two...

I headed down to the complimentary breakfast at the Ace to grab some light grub before heading out. The Ace Hotel NYC serves croissants for breakfast. The Ace Hotel Seattle has a make-your-own waffle station. We have a clear winner.

LA and Seattle sensibilities collided as I braved the morning rain for a yoga class at the Seattle Athletic Club.

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A friend told me that I had to stop by a Macrina Bakery while in town. I believe the claim was that you could smell butter out the door. I stopped by Macrina this am, asked the counter girl what the best breakfast item on the menu was, and she suggested the cinnamon bun. The bun happens to be called a 'Roly-Poly.' Um, I'll pass. I went with her second favorite, the Budapest Coffee Cake, instead.

I headed toward the Space Needle, the giant building erected in 1962 for the World's Fair. It's known for its height and its 360 views of the city. I drank the Needle Kool Aid. I paid $16.50 for a ticket up and got 10 minutes worth of hoards of other tourists--most of them unattractive families wearing drab colors and toting around drab children.

This picture is of the view to the West and my favorite.

Next up was Queen Anne, a quaint, mostly residential neighborhood where everything is old school and adorable.

Including the interior of Dick's. I had been advised to get a cheeseburger here. Instead I took this picture.

 

I came across Athina Grill for lunch when I didn't think my bladder would last another block in the rain. While I wasn't hopeful for good Greek food in Seattle, the gentleman at the front was Greek so I figured it couldn't be that bad. It was actually bad-ass. My Greek Salad with falafel and hummus was totally killer.

The restaurant owner's daughter, as it turns out, used to live in LA. He whipped out the business card of a breakfast joint I've got to try in Manhattan Beach, The Local Yolk. What are the chances that a Greek immigrant to Seattle would know better restaurants on LA's beaches than me? God, I love strangers.

The reason folks trek to Queen Anne and then trek even further to its peak is for the view from Kerry Park. I hustled up the steep hills to the top, passing by beautiful 19th century residences on the way.

The flagship Nordstrom store is here in the shopping district of Downtown Seattle. Let me save you the time if you're visiting the city. Nordstrom does not need to go on your itinerary.

I did, however, stop by Sway and Cake--the only small boutique in the shopping district. When I told the clerk I was visiting from LA, the clerk told me that the store was like, totally like LA. Um, yeah. Okay. I did manage to buy some cute items which, yeah, I totally could have scored in LA. Like this House of Harlow ring which I [am sort embarrassed to wear as its Nicole Richie's line, but] sort of adore.

Next up--off to Capitol Hill, a neighborhood know for its eclectic style, its bar scene, and its gays.

Stumptown Coffee is all over Capitol Hill. From its 'I'm too angry and cool-for-school to heed your order' baristas to its free trade mumbo jumbo, it reminded me of a cross between Itelligentsia and Groundwork.

After walking by loads of semi-chi chi restaurants that my wet and ruined bangs were embarrassed to enter into, I settled on Chao Bistro. The food was okay--nothing I couldn't get better of in some other city. But the bartender--bless his heart--introduced me to apple sake. And sake will never be the same.

I didn't make it to a bar tonight and I'd be disappointed in myself if I didn't feel like I was going to keel over.

Here's to a fun and active last full day in Seattle starting tomorrow morning. And hopefully the energy [and courage] to venture into Seattle's nightlife in the evening.

Passing out now,
Jessie B. R.

P.S. - For more pics from Day Two, visit my Picasa album where you'll find shots of naughty stores, the 'other' Melrose Ave and more fun neighborhood adventures.