This has probably been the longest non blogging period I've had in a long long time. Honestly, I can't even remember the last time I blogged.... I know that my last post, however, generated a lot of comments -- about the sharing of bank accounts and marital permissions. I promise to address those as I have a lot of thoughts and answers for a lot of the questions asked but, first and foremost, let's catch up on my life.

I became totally and completely sick. Sneezing, stuffy head, sore throat, achey, Nyquil type of sick. I was bummed. Really bummed. I spent Friday at work, sick, remembering how much being sick, sitting in an office can be. I didn't practice... nor did I practice Saturday. Instead I spent Saturday in bed, asking my daughter to entertain herself and squeezing as much entertainment value out of the television as I could (this works well with The Son, horribly with The Daughter). Sunday Tiff and I got up at the crack of freakin' dawn to catch our 6am flight to Chicago. We didn't get to sit next to each other and so our plan of attack was to sleep the entire flight, get to Chicago and practice. Instead, I got to sit next to Mr. All Arm Rests Are Mine and oh by the way, so is your foot room. Tiff got to sit next to someone who didn't use deoderant and loved to raise their arms above their heads. By the time we got here, we both about collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and starvation. We ordered room service, put on Yoga Unveiled and then proceeded to sleep the afternoon away.

Such a relaxing afternoon meant that getting up for practice at Yoga Now Chicago Monday morning was a piece of cake.... only we had asked the bartender at the W how long it would take us to get there and she told us 40 minutes.... of course, we bought this and arrived at Yoga Now an entire half hour before practice started and before the studio was opened.... People it's 30 freakin' degrees in Chicago and with the wind, well, Tiff and I were about to die. We wrapped our practice blankets around us, we wrapped our scarves around our heads, we hemmed and hawed and said "It's fucking cold" an awful fucking lot.

Proof in the camera phone:

Fortunately, I doubt yoga would happen if there weren't actual working heaters for yoga studios and the room was nice and freakin' hot when we walked in. Practice itself started out pretty good... for not having done yoga in about a week, I was pleasantly surprised that touching my toes was pretty darned easy.... unfortunately, having been really sick, I could barely breath and my equilibrium was totally off. It was so hard to breath that I couldn't find the breath whatsoever and my practice really showed it. When I lose my breath, it's a matter of losing the focus and the spiritual component of the practice... it was a bummer as I really needed the mental space. This guy walked in that I knew I knew from Tim's.... isn't it funny how we know faces but not names or places. He recognized me as he kept looking at me but I"m assuming he couldn't place me as I couldn't place him.

Work is going pretty well here... Vulcan mind meld kinda stuff but well nonetheless (even if I'm in a room full of uber-geeks -- A, that is for you, I know you're reading). Last night was the work social event which started out at Chicago's House of Blues. We sorta figured that it wasn't likely to make practice this morning given the "party" attitude of the night.... and so we proceeded to get damned spanked smashed. I haven't had that much alcohol in probably years. We drank, we ate, we drank, we ate.... and when the alarm went off this morning I remembered why years have passed since the last time I polluted and otherwise abused my body that way (for evidence of our drunken state, kindly go read Tiff's drunken blog post from Monday evening).

Needless to say, work today was hard... really hard.... I was tired and groggy and my body was in rebellion over the amount of alcohol I ingested the night before. Tiff got to sleep, I got to bare the freezing old air here in Chicago and uber geek out myself. For lunch we went to Indian and I got to get a taste of why this is the windy city... literally, I kid you not, the wind literally knocked me out of the crosswalk. I'm a pretty big girl and I was fighting to stay within the white lines.

This evening we took it easy... went out for sushi and then walked a few blocks before Tiff and I announced that it was too damn cold to walk anywhere so we hit the hotel bar where I, with so much pleasure I began my moon (read -- I won't have it in Mexico HOORAY!), had a couple glasses of wine (ladies' holiday tomorrow afterall) and then Tiff and I rearranged the bar furniture, sat on the floor and proceeded to demonstrate yoga poses such as bakasana and padma mayurasana... much to the amusement of the other hotel lobby guests. Much amusement I must say.

And now, I must go to bed.. I get to come home tomorrow.... I'm really happy.

Before I go however, my overriding thought of this post about regret. I got into a lengthy conversation with someone about regret... here's the thing I fuck up all the time. Sometimes I screw up so bad I even surprise myself. Most of the time when I screw up, I screw up in the order of self restraint (as evidenced by the amount of alcohol which passes through my lips on Monday night). I never, however, regret actions.... even those ones that I see as compromising who I am as a person, the integrity with which I try to live my life, the spirit of my soul, etc. Regret only serves to make us feel negative emotions about ourselves... if you regret, embrace it, learn from it, process it, forgive yourself and move on.

Addendum: Proof that things at the W rarely change.