No Fun Weekend

Last Wednesday, our little Violet had double-knee surgery. She came home on Thursday, and my partner and I have been on doggie nursemaid duty 24 hours a day since then.



Violey is keeping her own account of the surgery at http://www.ultravioley.blogspot.com/.

Thursday night was my better half's turn to stay awake. She was basically up with Vi most of that night, because I had court on Friday. Then, Friday night was my turn - and it was positively awful.

Up all night, Vi and I went from the couch to the recliner and back again, trying to get comfortable. Whenever I tried to get Vi to settle down in her dog bed, she'd whine and cry. Did she need to pee? Did her legs hurt? Impossible to tell. I took her outside about 5 times in the night, and each time she flailed around like a lame fawn, even with my hands under her belly to hold her up. At 7:30 when my partner got up, I was at the end of my rope. I was exhausted, and sore all over. The ache I've had in my left hip and leg for the last week (pinched nerve? pulled muscle?) was sounding off loudly ache, ache, ache, and I couldn't stop myself...I cried, saying I didn't think I was taking good enough care of sweet Violey. My partner put me to bed, and let me sleep for several hours.

We dragged ourselves, and Violey, back to the vet Saturday afternoon. The vet assured us that she looked good. We let her know that Violey had been eating well, but just not peeing or sleeping for very long. The vet determined that the lack of sleep was due to pain, and adjusted Violey's meds. As for the peeing, of course Vi let loose all over the vet and the vet tech when they took her in the back to ultrasound her bladder.

Once back home, Violey actually peed in her own backyard (with the help of a pillowcase held under her belly like a sling) - but that was over 24 hours ago at this point, and she hasn't done it again since then. So, of course, we're worried again. The upped pain meds seem to have her more comfortable, and she did sleep for about 5 hours last night.

However, now that we told the vet Violey was eating well, she's made liars of us and this morning would only eat vanilla yogurt. Tonight she ate a little wet food, but mostly more vanilla yogurt.

I have to work tomorrow and Tuesday, so my partner will stay home with Violey. Then, it's my turn. I hope we all can get some sleep, and that Violey's legs are healing in there...

"Too Fat" to be Pregnant?

Have you seen the "Idea Lab" article by Annie Murphy Paul in today's New York Times Magazine, called "Too Fat and Pregnant"? Basically, fat women having babies is not only the cause of (oh, no, can you believe it?) some medical centers actually obtaining equipment sufficient to actually weigh, test, and care for pregnant women who are "morbidly obese," but fat pregnant women may actually be "not just where the obesity epidemic has ended up, but where it begins" (horrors! I just knew those pesky fat women were to blame for so many people being so darn fat today!)

As a fat woman currently trying to get my doctor to sign a permission slip for my partner and I to obtain sperm from a sperm bank, this article illustrates all of my fears about dealing with the medical industry. Should I be denied such permission because I am "morbidly obese" even though I am otherwise healthy? Will there some day be special rules about which women are allowed to be and remain pregnant and which aren't? Should my freedom of reproductive choice stop short of me being able to try to become pregnant because I have to actually obtain sperm elsewhere, whereas if my partner was male and had sperm we could happily try to become pregnant as often as we liked without anyone being the wiser?

Or should we just make sure that the medical equipment available to care for fat pregnant women remains too small, and the medical instruments available to doctors for use stay too flimsy, and that the medical care available to fat pregnant women remains so generally inadequate that such pregnancies are even "higher risk" and less likely to be carried to term? After all, don't we need to stem the tide of the obesity epidemic by any means necessary?

Wii Fit Hates Me

On the issue of the Wii Fit - I recently bought this for my partner, who loves video games and wanted it badly. I'd read that the board involved had a weight limit of 350 (not enough for me) but I figured hey, if I wanted to take a chance of breaking the board by using it, that was my prerogative, right? WRONG.

While my (substantially smaller than me) partner registered her Wii and did the body test (and was highly, highly annoyed that she was compelled to put in a weight loss goal and that all of the little comments are directed toward weight loss), I can't even try to join in. Apparently, if you exceed the Wii Fit weight limit, the damn thing won't even let you register your Mii or even attempt to participate in any of the games/exercises!

The freaking program steals my Mii from the plaza, though, and peppers me here and there in the crowd to cheer and umpire and coach throughout the games. I can watch, but not play! How does that help me meet MY fitness goals?

I originally posted this comment on www.bigfatblog.com

Another me!

It's Me!

I Need A Fix

Oh, those earnest days at K College, piling gals from the WRC into Amy's beige Hyundai for the trek from Kalamazoo to Ann Arbor to see Ani DiFranco at The Ark. Is it possible that was really 15 years ago? Christ, I'm old.

Wednesday my better half and I will amble down to the Moore to see Ani - and I need it! I'm looking forward to hanging out with a room full of 30something feminists for a couple hours...it's been too long.

America Disappoints Me, Again.

OK, so this isn't politics. But it is still political.

We proved tonight that America isn't ready for a gay American Idol. I'm not surprised that the judges and host are all too chicken shit to own up to the fact that homophobia may well be the reason that first Danny, and now David, have been voted off. I'm not generally one for victim-blaming, but oh how I wish one of the contestants themselves had grabbed the microphone to say:

"Yeah, I was voted off because I'm too flamey for middle America! You can't handle me!"

or

"Too bad my voice wasn't more important than my history of stripping for dudes! I mean, isn't this a singing competition?"

America, you stink.

It's In the Mail

It doesn't mean anything to the State of Washington, but the fact I just voted for a woman on a Presidential nomination election ballot means a lot to me.

Dear Super Delegates:

I am a voting Democrat from the 46th District, and I am writing to ask that you please support Hillary Clinton's nomination for the Office of President of the United States. Ms. Clinton's concrete plan to reverse the damage the Bush administration has done to this country is practical and pragmatic; she has the know-how and the political clout to get this done.

I understand that it may be appealing to join the Obama parade at this point. After all, everyone loves a party. But our country is in crisis, and he simply isn't ready to be our Commander in Chief.

Please, as a "super delegate," support Hillary Clinton.

We Went A-Caucusing

First, let me say that while Democracy is exciting, it is also exhausting. 5 hours after we first pulled up to the Wilson Pacific School to attend the 46th District Democratic Caucus, my voice is hoarse, my throat is sore, and my ass is signed up to be a Hillary Clinton delegate to the District & King County Democratic Caucus in April.

It was a madhouse. My better half and I arrived early, and were the first folks to sign up noting "Clinton" in the candidate of choice boxes. We felt outnumbered for a while - the Obama people were more visible, with T-shirts and stickers. Here's to organization; it makes a difference. I did wonder how fair it is that the people who were actually telling people where to sign and where to sit or stand were obviously entrenched in Obama-fever. I mean, at the polls aren't poll workers prohibited from wearing a candidate's T-shirt, just for the appearance of fairness?

Anyway, once underway, my precinct alone had 111 people. There were probably over 600 of us in the school gym - it was loud and crazy, and I felt bad for the few elderly people who clearly felt crushed and who couldn't quite hear what was going on. Individuals spoke up for Hillary, Barack, and Dennis (yes, Dennis - a couple of us, including my better half, called out "ok, who's for Ralph Nader? Nader supporters, stand up!" harkening back to all those votes wasted 8 years ago).

There were no microphones, no bullhorns, no podiums and, until we started hollering at each other and warming the place up, no heat. I get that this is grassroots community action going on - but people, please! Couldn't we have a set of smaller rooms so people could break up into precincts and actually discuss and debate civilly? Or microphones so no one went hoarse screaming to be heard?

We Hillary Clinton supporters knew we were outnumbered, but we held on. We emphasized the manner in which Clinton has already been tested - and passed; that although it's trendy to call her "divisive," she's actually been quite adept at crossing the aisle and making successful deals in the Senate; that she has concrete plans for how to get out of Iraq, how to made health care available to all, and how be make our country greener.

The Barack Obama supporters sang about "change," about him being a "uniting force," and about how this is a new time, a new day. There wasn't a lot of there there, and not for the first time I found myself saying that it's a "the Emperor wears no clothes" situation. Obama is just a man - nay, just a politician, just like the rest of the candidates. His speechwriters won't be in office if he's elected, he will be. And he's both untested and unsure.

When I pointed out that Barack thought nothing of getting in bed with the Southern Baptists and evangelicals, appealing to the homophobia of that region in order to be palatable to the more conservative South, some jackass shouted "Hillary stayed in bed with Bill for more votes!" Um, ok. Like that's worse? Or even as bad as what Obama did not 4 months ago? A woman stays with her unfaithful husband (who just happens to be the most powerful man in the world, and his affairs just happened to be played out on world-wide television for all to see) sublimating her own pride to preserve the family and its political clout. A man, vyying to become the most powerful man in the world, swings the door wide open for all the crazy right-wing Bible bangers, saying, "Hey, come on into the Democratic party and join us! Who cares if you're a hate-monger or a bigot, as long as you vote for me?!" Now, which scenario is morally bankrupt? More corrupt?

Yeah. I thought so. At least the former didn't get the Democratic Party in debt to the devil. The latter has, or will, if Obama gets elected and has to pay those bigots back in political kind.

And about that "she voted for the war in Iraq" shtick. As a good friend pointed out to me today, Obama wasn't even in the Senate for that vote! It isn't like he voted no. We have no idea what he would have done in that climate in the US Senate at that time. And, more importantly, Obama has no idea what he would have done. As of 2004 Obama said that "on paper" his position on the war was the same as George W. Bush's. Further, when asked what he would have voted regarding Congressional authorization to spend funds on military action, he said he didn't know.

So. At best he hedged his bets, not committing to a position because the wind was starting to change regarding public opinion of Iraq; at worst, he was aligned with George W. in 2004 but now touts himself the "anti-war" candidate, disingenuously. The fact of the matter is, his Congressional voting record on Iraq is substantially the same as Clinton's. And, see the above paragraph - in my opinion, pandering to hatemongers and homophobes not 4 months ago is so much worse than being swept up in the fervor for military action back when--let's be honest--the only people against the war were those of us left-wingers who are, for the most part, always against any war or military action.

I look at the cultish Obama fever sweeping the country right now and I'm afraid. Haven't we just lived through (some of us - so many have not made it) 8 years of the "aw shucks, we can do this" kind of down-home talking guy you'd like to have a beer with? Have we learned nothing?

Why don't we care about substance? Why are we so enamored of flash?

The group-think going on right now is quite amazing and disturbing. I could see the "undecideds" yesterday looking to the Obama camp, and looking to the Clinton camp, and simply moving toward the bigger, louder camp. Everyone loves a party, right?

It looks like Hillary Clinton isn't winning the majority of Washington State's delegates right now - but I am holding out that she'll pull this thing off in the end by maintaining more delegates over the long-term. Deep down, we have to know better not to be dazzled by bullshit.

I just hope enough of us go out to our caucuses and our polls to make that difference.

She's The One

In the words of Robin Morgan:

Me? I support Hillary Rodham because she’s the best qualified of all candidates running in both parties. I support her because her progressive politics are as strong as her proven ability to withstand what will be a massive right-wing assault in the general election. I support her because she knows how to get us out of Iraq. I support her because she’s refreshingly thoughtful, and I’m bloodied from eight years of a jolly “uniter” with ejaculatory politics. I needn’t agree with her on every point. I agree with the 97 percent of her positions that are identical with Obama’s—and the few where hers are both more practical and to the left of his (like health care). I support her because she’s already smashed the first-lady stereotype and made history as a fine senator, because I believe she will continue to make history not only as the first US woman president, but as a great US president. The Women's Media Center

Hillary Is My Homegirl

I am so sick of the mainstream media--not the mention the good liberals of Seattle--pretending that the fact that a woman is a viable candidate for the office of President of the United States isn't a monumentous event. It's bad enough that gender is ignored these days (in the eye-rolling "Aren't we, like, so over this already?" sort of way) even as women still have to be better than in order to be considered equal to. But don't you for one minute more dare to diminish the importance of this moment in history.

The fact that Obama is male is far more important in this campaign than the fact that he is African-American. A woman with his experience and background simply would not be considered a viable candidate. He is imbued with a presumption of competence that women don't benefit from yet. Media pundits and the "average Joe" alike have railed against Clinton for her hair, her dress, the sound of her voice, and the fact she stayed with her unfaithful husband. Does Obama suffer from the same scrutiny? Of course not. Some parts of his life are just off limits. He's a man, after all.

But when someone tries to bring gender to the fore, the conversation is cut short--a kind of "oh, you wanna play the hierarchy of oppression game?" swagger starts up. Fine, ok, I get it. But to acknowledge that gender still matters does not negate that race matters also. And, if it's a contest, Black men won the right to vote in this country in 1870. Women of any color didn't get that right until a generation later, in 1920. Women's rights have lagged behind civil rights for men of color in this country in undeniable ways. Sexism is still acceptable in this country, in ways that racism is not - people aren't embarrassed to be sexist, for example. They at least know better than to be out and proud with their racism. Sexists, though, can be as loud as they like and they still always get a laugh from a crowd.

I'm tired of calls of "identity politics" when people of color dare to vote for or endorse Clinton. I'm sick of people chanting for "change" and talking about how "divisive" Clinton is. Did anyone see Bill Maher the other night, when some Republican asshole started pontificating in response to the question of "Why is Hillary Clinton so divisive?" Well, he started blabbing about health care and how she dared to get involved in a "really important" issue and "overstretch" her role...essentially saying that bitch didn't know her place and that she dared to take on a serious issue when we all know that First Ladies are supposed to be planning charity balls and appearing on the Today show talking about literacy. Heaven forbid she has a brain and she tried to get something done.

The fact of the matter is that some people perceive Clinton as divisive because she's female, and because she doesn't know "her place." I mean, the very gall. She's ambitious, keen, and sharp as a motherfucking tack. If she were a man, they'd be building statues in her honor. Instead, they're falling in line behind the newest sexy thing, the dude with the silver tongue who can orate like nobody's business. A sweet talker does not a competent President make.

Listen up, people. We're talking about candidates for the office of President of the United States of America. This isn't a radical, left-wing position we're filling here. The fact, though, that this position could be filled by a woman in 2008 is pretty fucking radical, and if you think that doesn't matter, well, then you don't know shit about politics.

Where I've Been

It's true. In the last couple of months, ever since my better half brought a Wii home unexpectedly (honestly, I didn't even know what it was when she walked in with it) I've been a bit obsessed. I practiced "guitar" and "bass," I chose my Judy Nails character and dressed her up, I beat Slash in a boss battle.

As of now, I've gotten through all of the songs on "easy." I tried one song on "intermediate" and sucked royally. I practiced so hard I had to take Advil for the pain in my fingers. I'm sure that I'm becoming highly annoying to my better half and to our poor dogs, both of whom sit on the couch watching me with their heads cocked and their ears at half-mast.

Rock on!

Always a Bridesmaid

Starting this week, same sex couples in Washington State can sign up for a limited "Domestic Partnership," which I am trying to muster up some happiness about. My partner and I can now make end-of-life and other health care decisions for each other; theoretically, the little plastic card the State of Washington will be sending us will serve as a "pass" guaranteeing that neither of us will ever have to face the horrifying reality of being excluded from the other's hospital room in a time of crisis, or treated as "less than" the family members we are in the event of a health emergency. Hip, hip, hooray. Right?


I can't help the incredible frustration I feel about it, though. It's less than what we want. It's less than marriage. Hell, it's still a lot less than the "civil unions" and "domestic partnerships" that a few other states offer to gay and lesbian couples. But, I just don't feel like we've won some huge victory here. I know, I know. The passage of the law that allows for this limited domestic partnership possibility took countless hours of work, strife, and was only achieved by the thousands and thousands of hours contributed to the various activities leading up to it -- like the marriage equality case (which ultimately failed in WA), and the de facto parentage case (which succeeded for many while falling short for the petitioner and the child in who's name the case was brought). So, I get it. This is a big deal, a big step, and I should be thrilled.

But, mostly, I am sad. I just read the latest post over at Orangette, in which Molly waxes beautifully poetic about the last days counting down to her wedding, and it makes me want to cry. Sure, in some respect the tears are because her words are moving and any joy like that will touch a person and evoke emotion. But, for the most part, my tears are of frustration, anger, and from being excluded from a tradition and a process that is instantly recognizable the world over. I admit it. I am a feminist, and a lesbian. And I want a wedding, I want a marriage, and I want the rest of the world around me to recognize it and, more so, to share in the joy of it.

I can't have that. My partner and I have been together, in an exclusive and committed relationship, for over 11 years. My partner is wonderfully funny, smart, and brings a zest to my life that otherwise would not exist. But she and I can't get married. We can have a ceremony, and I am sure our friends would come and be happy and it would be lovely. But it wouldn't be a wedding, and the world wouldn't recognize us as married. Instead, I read the New York Times wedding announcements and fume over the couples who have been together 3 years, 2 years, 6 months, and yet they can get married. They aren't any more committed or in love than I am. They're just straight. That's the only difference between us. And yes, OK, so the NYT includes gay couples and lesbian couples. But unless those couples live in and have a ceremony in Massachusetts or another country where marriage equality exists, they are not getting married and cannot get married.

This is compounded by the fact that my partner and I had a ceremony once. In Portland, Oregon, during the short window that Multnomah County issued marriage licenses for same sex couples. It was beautiful, in the backyard of the woman officiating -- we'd only just met her, in our attempt to find someone with some Jewish affiliation to preside -- and at the time, we thought it was a wedding. We signed papers. We took pictures. My mom was there, and my partner's parents were present via speakerphone. We registered. Good friends and lovely family members sent us gifts. Of course, some short months later our marriage -- and that of thousands of other couples who flocked to Portland to "make it legal" -- was invalidated. Simple as that. One day, we were married (well, whatever that meant -- we were "married" maybe in the State of Oregon but our marriage was unrecognized anywhere else), and then another day, we were not. I was driving back to my office from the courthouse in Seattle, after a hearing, and the NPR announcer interrupted the regular scheduled programming to tell me that the Oregon Supreme Court had ruled that my marriage, and all the others from that brief sweet window of time, was invalid. Invalid. It didn't exist; they didn't exist. Multnomah County sent us our money back.

Now, years later, I fill out a one-pager listing my name and address, and I pledge that my partner and I are both over 18, that we live together, that we aren't married to or in a domestic partnership with anyone else, that we are not related by blood, and that we are both the same sex. For my trouble, and my $50 fee, I will have some assurance that should my partner's chronic illness flare up, and should she end up in the hospital, I will get the pleasure and the privilege of reenacting that scene from "Terms of Endearment" when, inevitably, my dear one's medication comes later than the latest wave of pain. Or, maybe I won't...I mean, what if the emergency room visit takes place in Podunk nowhere, WA, where the one nurse on duty is a lifelong member of the Christian Coalition or Focus on the Family? Or across state lines in Idaho or Montana, or in another state that does not recognize domestic partnerships, civil unions, or anything homo? It means nothing then. Not worth the paper it's printed on, I'm sure.

I'm worn out. I have little other response than It isn't fair. How can I muster up happiness at being allowed the maybe-ability to make very specifically named medical decisions for my partner, when the mere fact of being "allowed" such limited rights is a constant reminder of the many, many rights we are denied? How can I be happy, and smile, and buy one more gift off one more registration for the next couple of straight friends who decide to get married, when they are joining a club from which my partner and I are specifically excluded?

My partner and I have woken up next to each other, taken care of each other, laughed with each other and fought with each other for over 11 years. We would ace "The Newlywed Game." We know what book the other person is reading, and we know what programs to record for the other person from cable TV. We know what the other person will order from a menu without saying anything. We are a couple -- no more and no less than any of those straight couples in last Sunday's New York Times. No more, no less than Molly and her groom over at Orangette. Just not recognized in the same way. And maybe it won't ever be in my lifetime.

So, for now, I will have a little plastic card that I can carry in my wallet which will hopefully ensure that (God forbid) if one of us ends up in the hospital, the other one won't be excluded from decision-making or from the hospital room. I know it will remind me that we can't get married. I am hoping, though, that the former will mean more.

Thank you to PinkCakeBox for the loan of this lovely photo. If you are in the New York / New Jersey area, get a cake from her!

Violet Update

.
. How cute is she?

She's 6 months old now, and over 4 pounds, if you can believe that. She's doubled in size.

Was It Really Two Months Ago?

Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.

From Post Secret.

I'm Turning Violet!

Introducing the latest addition to the household...VIOLET, a 4 month old Chi/Terrier mix. The others are adjusting to this little girl, who likes to zoom zoom zoom around the house!

Book Worm

Spent Sunday mid-afternoon in a local (albeit chain) bookstore. I suppose "chain" blots out "local." The point being, though, that we didn't have to stray too far from home to spend the afternoon book-browsing.

Having read a recent post by a dear desert-dwelling friend, who'd recently received a stash of new pages from Amazon, I was inspired. You'll find me in the "literature" section, usually checking to see if there's anything new by some of my favorite authors: Ellen Gilchrist (I saw her read once at the Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle, and now whenever I read her books I hear her slow, Southern lilt in my head - a bonus); Marge Piercy (I read Braided Lives in approximately 1990, and thought I would never be the same. Maybe I'm not); Alice Hoffman (OK. I admit. I, too, have a hard time swallowing the "slightly but cleverly paranormal" aspects in some contemporary fiction, but I just can't help myself in the case of Alice Hoffman); Joyce Carol Oates (I first read Because It Is Bitter and Because It Is My Heart in late high school/early college, simply because of the title. I was a bit punk rock and thought the title was pure genius. I kept reading because she's a great writer. Now, if only she weren't so painfully thin). Usually there isn't anything new (I mean, apart from the utterly prolific Ms. Oates, how often does a new book by one's favorite author actually appear? Once every two years or so, at best) but that doesn't stop me from looking.

Today I came home with the following: Big Island of Hawaii (Moon Handbook); Intuition by Allegra Goodman (I read everything I can find from her, but nothing so far has surpassed the fabulous Kaaterskill Falls. I keep hoping.); Fruit of the Lemon by Andrea Levy (I read a review of this a while back, but don't believe I've ever read anything she's written before); The Night Watch by Sara Waters (this despite the bad reviews I've seen - after all, Fingersmith! Tipping the Velvet! Affinity! How can she go wrong now?); A Taxonomy of Barnacles by Galt Niederhoffer (I am intrigued by the comparisons between this fictional family and the historical Mitfords, as well as the more timely Minots); and, last but certainly not least, The Illustrated Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, illustrated graphic novel-style by Dame Darcy (I simply could not pass up this version of one of my all-time favorite novels). Only last night I finished Before You Know Kindness by Chris Bohjalian (a truth about me: I cannot pass up any story set in a New England summer home. Pathetic, but very true).

One complaint about the big-box chain bookstore... Wait. First, I must admit that this place employed me the summer between college and that crappy first year of law school, back when the big-box bookstore was a brand new entity, and the fact that so many books were, suddenly, instantaneously available even in the suburbs far outweighed the fact that the mammoth chain store would systematically put ma and pop type bookstores across the country out of business.

Back to the complaint...when I worked for this company, the bookstores boasted, and were known for, comfy chairs which encouraged browsers to sit and stay a while. It was kind of a big thing, the library/salon feel the company went for and, in some remote fashion, achieved. People came and picked up a pile of books, then settled in one of the padded, comfy chairs and decided which of the stack to purchase. Today, I went in search of one of those chairs, and this is what I found:

What the hell? I tried to post a photo of two luxurious, buttery leather reading chairs, roped off by those bastards at the big box bookstore. But it won't upload! Damn!

It would have been good.

Yoga While Fat! It Rocks!

A tribute to Patricia at Whole Life Yoga. I just finished her "Yoga for Round Bodies" class, and I loved it.

Ordinarily, embarking upon anything remotely athletic would fill me with apprehension. OK, not entirely true. I've been working with the most fabulous Jay Holby for a while now, and he's helped me realize that, indeed, my body is pretty strong and capable in the exercise and physical activity department (and that some athletic straight men are perfectly kind to clumsy fat lesbians. I'm fairly certain this would be true even if I weren't paying him). I even go to the gym to work with Jay - a place that, several years ago, I would never have stepped foot in for fear of some jackass feeling the need to make himself feel better by ridiculing me.

Anyway: I admit I was a bit afraid when my dear Boo gave me a certificate to the Yoga for Round Bodies class for Hanukkah. Her body, not so round. I would be attending it solo.

Patricia helped me feel at ease immediately. She's all about using extra mats, bolsters, and yoga blankets for comfort and assistance. She also helped everyone in the class be comfortable with our individual abilities, and to push ourselves gently. There was no competition; no humiliation because I can't really do a "bridge." Just encouragement to relax, figure out what my body can do, and enjoy it. It was great to get my mind to quiet down a bit, even for an hour and a half a week, and to just breathe and move during that time.

I really appreciate Patricia's teaching style, and the fact that she's dedicated her yoga instruction to encouraging us round folk to get on the mat.

Unfortunately, Tracy (the owner of Whole Life Yoga) hasn't scheduled this class for the current quarter. It won't be offered again until May. Are there really not enough willing round bodies to fill another class? I doubt that's the case. Come on, Tracy - make room for this class more often.


Thank you to fuchur for posting this photo on flikr for public use.