After the past 4 months of the Winter That Wasn't, I still was not prepared when spring appeared this week. And apparently neither was anyone else. Folks everywhere are rushing to put on their warm-weather clothes, despite the fact that the mornings are still chilly and the flowers have yet to bloom. I am just as ready as the next person to pack away my sweaters, but come on now, 60 degrees does not call for tanktops and flipflops. Maybe it's the Southerner in me, but white pants are for after Memorial Day, and even if we're being liberal, they aren't for March!

But I guess folks just can't stand the promise of spring, as they stumble down the street, not yet able to walk in this season's platform wedges, or as I like to call them...the Ankle-sprainers. Yet somehow carrying out the fashion of the season is kinda lost when you've yet to have your first spring pedicure and your "summer tan" has left your palms a suspicious shade of orange. You know, it is okay to ease into the season. But no, of course we must rush out and buy a straw handbag with the first sunny day.

Now I love warm weather as much as the next person, but let's just all calm down and proceed with caution into the fashion of the spring season. There are MONTHS ahead of us to make faux pas after faux pas in the name of trend-setting, so there's really no need to sport all your questionable purchases right this minute, now is there?

And I'm not trying to be a kill-joy, really I'm not, and I do want you to enjoy the nice afternoon, but as you dress in the morning keep in mind the great theory behind the wearing of summer styles: tan flab is better than white flab any day of the week. Hence, if you find yourself sporting the cropped tank and mini skirt before the pastiness of winter has been replaced by a warm spring glow, you might wanna re-think and add jacket and some tights to your ensemble;-)

Ms. Houston, we have a problem

My girl just can't get it together, bless her heart. And you know, isn't this just always the way with the rich folks with nothing to do, just pull out the crack pipe and see how time flies!

It's a good thing she's got those royalty checks coming in, cause this girl ain't getting a job any time soon. I bet they've gone and cancelled her husband's reality show Being Bobby Brown, which is a right shame, seeing as it was probably the best reality program on television. Of course it was mostly about the surreal life of fading pop stars with too much money and too many drug habits, but it's so much better than watching people eat bugs and build campfires.

Whitney, Whitney, Whitney...what happened to that girl who just wanted to dance with somebody? Turns out your greatest love of all is an 8-ball. It's really just too painful for me to discuss further, so ya'll read this article in The Sun.

Just one more....

...comment about the British and then I promise to leave them alone...for the time being.

But seriously, what is up with Camilla and these hats?!?! I mean after the metal-feathered monstrosity she wore to her own wedding, I thought maybe she'd give em a rest, but clearly that is not the case. It's almost as if she's fulfilling some stereotype for British royals and their unfaltering taste for the tasteless. Either that, or she's paying tribute to Princess Di by giving her absolutely no contest for the Royal Family Style Icon.

Whatever her plan, discretion isn't a part of it. Looking like Grandma Leprechaun is hardly the way to blend in with the crowd, though there's hardly a chance for that when you're photographed every 10 minutes. But then, if you knew you were going to be followed by papparazzi every time you stepped out the door, wouldn't you at least hire a stylist? Or one born after 1920?

I'm not trying to be ugly. I'm sure she's a very nice person, bless her heart, but the Queen's got 30 years on her and wears better hats! Come on Camilla, can't you just have a thing for shoes like everybody else and leave the hats for those who know how to wear them?!

Whew!

Praise the Lord friends, I am back in the land of the free and the home of the biscuit!! I mean to tell you, I don't need to see another soft-boiled egg again in my life. Who the hell thought that up? Trying to pick the shell out of a yolk running all over your plate? Can't they just fry the eggs up with cheese and bacon like God intended?

So I survived on chocolate shortbread cookies and bloody marys (though without horseradish, much to my dismay), which I can't really complain about seeing as cookies and cocktails have always been my idea of a well-balanced meal.

I can, however, complain about the television. So of course it rained, isn't it permanently overcast over there, and I was confined to my hotel room for a large part of Saturday. I mean to tell you there were 7 channels for English-speakers...SEVEN...and I was in an "executive suite" (for whatever the hell that was worth). You think there's nothing on Time Warner Cable, you should try BBC. In the 36 hours I was there, I probably saw one program made in this decade. Seriously, the only America show featured James Garner as a brown-haired detective, so it had to have been made in the 1970's, right? Then of course there was the British programming, which consisted of new crime dramas with all the film quality of 1980's In The Heat Of The Night, and variety shows where celebrities lip-synch songs dressed like other celebrities for no apparent reason.

Sunday morning I did find a nice British soap opera which was rather addictive, but even without the talent barrier, they still can't seem to cast any attractive folks. I mean to tell you, the entire British broadcast system needs a makeover, from the actors to the sets to the storylines.

Americans may be mindless, glutinous philistines, but man do we know how to make a movie and look good doing it!

Off I go!

Alright darlins, I'm just letting you know ahead of time that I will be out of touch for a few days. Every time I take a little break I get these frantic emails from my loyal subjects desperate to hear word from their Queen, so I'm just telling you that I will be unavailable for a little bit.

Where am I going? Well it's time for me to pop across the pond to visit the ol' forefathers. Now you know this means I won't be eating a descent meal for 3 days! I mean forget about a nice breakfast biscuit, the last time I was over there I tried to order an egg sandwich and got the blank stare from the man behind the counter. We finally had to compromise on some sort of open-faced deal an unidentifiable white chessy product on top. And just forget about a cup of coffee. The choices are "white" or "black," and both taste like burnt sludge. I had to give up and find a Starbucks, which are considerably less plentiful than in NYC, and you know I think Starbucks coffee takes the enamel off your teeth, but I needed caffeine to negotiate the exchange rate while shopping at the world's largest H&M. And did you know that with all that tea they drink, not a drop of it is sweet?! Who the hell wants their tea hot and milky when you can have it iced cold and syrupy?

Guess I'll be eating fish and chips, cause about the only other option is Indian, and well, who among us thinks curry and airplane travel are a good combo?

So think of me friends in my journey across the sea. I will of course swing by the palace, say hello to my fellow royals, maybe harass a guardsman or two. You probably won't recognize me when I return, I'll be so thin and malnourished, clothes falling off and such. Not to worry though, I can eat my way back into my jeans in a day or two no problem!

How you do go on...

Oh it is so nice to be loved. Now ya'll know I hate to brag, but I just got the sweetest little thank you note (code: person with home-training) from one of the lovelorn folks seeking out my romantic advice.

And I quote..."You are indeed a queen, a gem, the brightest star in the sky. Your advice and hilariously funny sample letter was like a sip of champagne"

It is such a good feeling to know that you helped someone sift through the wreckage of a love disaster and find the strength to forge a path in the world...well maybe that's bit dramatic, but I did help her all the same.

I know ya'll probably think I'm just tooin' my own horn, and of course I am, but you see statements like the one above are free advertising and how else am I ever gonna get my own talk show?

Have to go now lovies, very busy today justa saving the world one clueless lover at a time.

Too Young For Coffee

So I'm in Starbucks last night, trying to wake up for my evening of quality television (Desperate Housewives not withstanding), and I see these three high school kids at a table. They've got to be all of about 14-years-old, and are sitting there unchaperoned, talking about who "hooked up" with whom with their big ol' cappucinos. And I'm appalled by this on many levels. I mean first of all, who the hell are you Miss Teen Barbie, with your blond highlights and UGG boots and you've barely hit puberty. You think I was getting professional salon services in the 9th grade? Hell no, I was at the Cheap Charlies for the $7 haircut.

Worse still is that fact that these children can't even drive, yet their recounting tales of their sexual exploits like seasoned veterans. It was like "Sex And the City...the early years." Where are your parents? Don't you at least have a nanny to follow you around?

But sex and fashion aside, the most disturbing part of the entire situation is that 14-year-olds don't drink coffee!! Nor do they sit in coffee shops, discussing life over $7 espressos! I think I entered a coffee shop once in my high school career, and that was just to use the restroom. So last night all I could think was, "This completely unrealistic, highly pretentious moment brought to you by The O.C." I mean, give me a break, kids don't drink coffee, they drink Coke. No one stumbles goggily into the kitchen seeking salvation in a coffee pot until at least their first week of college finals. It's just not natural. And somehow shows like The O.C. have convinced America's youth that the most important part of every day is sitting on couches in your school's cafe making witty yet insightful remarks about the state of the world. I find it incredibly hard to believe that high school freshman make more than one mildly interesting statement per year, without a team of 30-year-old writers behind them.

Alas, this is the state of our world today. Who needs to go to the movies, when you can create your own teen drama at your local Starkbucks! What ever happened to the good old life lessons of Saved By The Bell?

Top O' the mornin' to ya!

I can hear the bagpipes warming up outside my window on 42nd street in the heart of Manhattan. We hear a lot of people shouting and cars screeching, but the shrill blast of the bagpipe, now that's something you don't normally hear in the middle of a metropolis!

Ahh, St. Patty's Day...a time for all those, Irish or not, to drink green beer and act like fools for no other reason than, well, they can. As a child it was all about pinching folks who forgot their green, but as an adult I'm more concerned with pinch the bar stool from folks who go to the bathroom. Now you know no one really knows anything about St. Pat himself, except that he was apparently a heavy drinker, which is of course the source of his popularity.

Sweetpotato is so Irish I think his blood might run green under that pasty freckled skin they have (and I love every little bit of that pasty skin, just so you know). My God, he thinks today is some sort of national holiday and called me a traitor for going to work. Not to worry though, he'll be over it by his third Guinness. You gotta love that Irish memory - long on drinking songs, short on actual events.

So, whatever your descent, I hope this afternoon finds you with a pint in your hand and a smile on your face.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!!

Lips

And if you will all open your textbooks to page 62, we will begin our lesson on the tragedy of collagen


I mean it's not as if we're surprised to find Lisa Rinna on a page of puffy lips, my God, this woman's had so much work done I doubt if there's a single original feature on her face! And just forget about the rest of her...her abs have been sculpted with the same knife as her chin. When was the last time she even sniffed at a piece of cake!

And Lord knows Lara Flynn Boyle needs some plumping, but those two fat slug-looking things around her mouth are not the answer. Talk about a woman with some issues. Here she is starving herself for the better part of ten years, and now she's shooting fat into her face. The producers at NBC told her to fill in a few pounds for her latest TV show, guess they didn't specify which part to fill. You don't need those dark glasses as a disguise...you're plastic surgery has already made you unrecognizable.

You see friends, it's all about proportion. Folks with NO lips might need a little boost from our friend collagen, but the round-faced full-liped breed need not inject padding. Take a note from your friends Lisa and Lara: In implants and injections, bigger isn't always better.

The Thank You Note

I would like to title this entry... "The Thank You Note: a lesson in acting right"

I received a gift on Sunday, I won't tell you what it was but sufficed to say it was quite lovely and I am very pleased to have it in my possession. Naturally, my first instinct when I got home was to write a sincere note of thanks to the gift giver. Why? Because I was brought up right. Sadly, though, I have found too many folks today wouldn't know a thank you note from a credit card bill, and I find this highly disturbing.

I mean, somebody's gonna give you a present out of the kindness of their heart (or familial obligation) and you can't even take 5 minutes to write them a little note? I realize the use of an actual pen and paper in this age of keyboards is mind-boggling, but surely you can scratch out a few hieroglyphics in the name of courtesy. Email thank you notes do not really count, though I do accept them from my brother because well, getting him to convey complete sentences is so rare that I'll take them any way I can get them.

Thank you notes are a fundamental part of acting right, and I am appalled by the number of folks who are so totally clueless. I am still waiting on one from a bride and groom from 3 months ago. And I know there's some One Year Rule for newlyweds, but I happen to know these folks have a lot of free time. If I don't get a thank you for a gift, well you can just forget about getting anything else from me. I am not being unreasonable, this is just proper etiquette.

I teach all my little princesses the value of writing thank you notes. You see, the key to my successful reign has been to ensure that the folks around me know how much I appreciate them. This is how you create loyal subjects, and loyal subjects are the backbone of any great monarchy.

Try to be descriptive and sincere, and avoid "Thank you for the book. It is really neat" if at all possible. Now if you don't know what to say about the patchwork sweater Crazy Aunt Suzy sent you, always defalt to the word "precious," it has so very many meanings. "Precious" is especially good with the Yankees, cause they have no idea that it really means "the ugliest thing I ever saw."

I'm just trying to spread a little goodwill here and besides, not sending a note endicates a lack of home training, and I know you don't wanna disgrace your momma like that.

Gift Giving

Time for me to share some more words of advice.

This time, the question is from a woman a bought a birthday gift for a man who dumped her by simply not showing up for their first date after months of correspondence. She actually wanted to know if she should still send him the gift!

I share this response because I feel the laws on gift-giving bear repeating. This is what I have to say....


Dear Ridiculous Question-Asker,

That's the terrible thing about the Y-chromosome...just when you think they have finally learned to act right, they turn out to be totally idiots just the same. Sounds like he got scared and instead behaving like a grown-up and learning to deal with his feeling of uncertainty, he chose to run and hide like a scared piece of ___(fill in the blank).

Anyway, don't you worry about that. He's gone - lesson learned - moving on.

Now about this gift...child have you lost your mind? I realize that you have no use for it, and that having it around would be a painful reminder, blah blah, but you MAY NOT even consider sending it to him for one more second! Do we reward poor behavior with gifts? Hell no. We sell that shit on eBay and buy ourselves a present with the cash.

I know you have this grand vision of yourself as a selfless martyr, willing to rise above her pain and give freely from her heart, even to the man who scorned her. Well that is a load of crap. He is not gonna come back to you because you sent him a gift. In fact, he isn't even gonna call to say thank you because he is an ungrateful pig. Instead, he's gonna throw your gift in the back of a closet, sit his worthless ass back on the couch and congratulate himself on being such a catch women just can't let him go, in between chugging beer and belching the alphabet.

Dating has many pitfalls, and folks often make mistakes, but the worst one a woman can make is reaffirming the Y's poor behavior. Not showing up is not an acceptable way to cancel a date (nor is email, text message or post-it). I mean, at least have the decency to pick up the phone and lie. All we need to hear is some sob story about your ailing mother, and we're content to wait around until our girlfriends finally have to intervene and call your bluff.

I am very serious about selling that gift online, and if you don't get any bites, donate it to charity, stick it in your neighbor's garage sale or make a bonfire in your back yard. But for the love of God, DO NOT send it to this guy. He never even so much as bought you a cocktail and you're gonna give him a gift? Honey, I wouldn't spend a dime on a man until I'd been fed, watered and taken out on the town. I mean, why buy the cow, if she'll pay you to take her?

Royally, Q

**PS- "Cow" is used in a purely metaphorical sense, and in no way relates to the size, shape, or personality of the subject;-)

Scary Teri

Page Six is speculating that Teri Hatcher came forward with her story of abuse after the "caddish behavior" of a Hollywood hunk, and they're trying to pin it on George Clooney. Obviously a man wrote that column because no self-respecting woman would ever pair abuse admission with being dumped. This is not to say we're defending Teri Hatcher, generally, we hate her. In fact, if George had anything to do with that attention-whore, I will burn all my copies of Ocean's Eleven.

The really unbelieveable part of this whole thing is the idea that George Clooney would ever have a trist with Teri Hatcher! You're talking about a man the entire world knows is a confirmed bachelor, who is not only a talented actor but clearly an intelligent individual (see his 3 Oscar nominations). The last thing he wants to do is get involved with a head case like Teri Hatcher. I mean the woman has a nine-year-old daughter and stood on stage at the Grammy's in her underwear. Besides, I see George as the good food-fine wine kinda guy, and you know Teri hasn't eaten a descent meal since Lois and Clark.

The whole relationship just reeks of publicity stunt, and I'm willing to bet Clooney's rep is killing herself to get the press off of this gossip and back to talking about how he's one of the most talented, down-to-earth forces in Hollywood. Hatcher's rep, on the other hand, is trying to get press at any cost, lest Felicity Huffman win any more awards and make Teri's lack of talent even more obvious. I guess when you're over forty with no appriciable skill, it's either sell sex or get a real job.

I know it's ungentlemanly, but George, could you just stab her in the eye?

Acceptable Date Venues

I know this girl, we shall call her...Tina, and she lives down below the Mason-Dixon in the land of my birth. We share many of the same values, morals, genomes even, but then there are times like when I hear tales of her dating life, that I can not believe we share DNA. For example, she calls to tell me about her latest "date," which I was excited to hear until she said the words firing range. Apparently, she and this guy spend time together while shooting at paper targets in a field. No cocktails, no dinner, hell this guy can't even buy her a movie ticket, though I understand he once paid for her box of shotgun shells. Nothing says love like a rifle.

I mean you can imagine my distress when I discovered that one of my own relations was so completely clueless! Not only is she not getting free meals, she's actually firing a gun...on a date...for no apparent reason. So I got to thinking and have come up with a list of venues which are NEVER to be considered appropriate for dates, no matter how desperate one may be for companionship.

1) The Firing Range- obviously - gun play does not equal foreplay

2) The Laundromat - I am not your mom, I do not want to touch your stinky drawers, nor do I want you to touch mine. Hell I haven't done my own laundry in 4 years, so you just drop your laundry off with those nice little dry cleaner folks and they'll fold it up real nice for ya.

3) The Wal-mart - okay, now I love a bargain as much as the next person, but spending hours in a warehouse full of toothless rednecks doesn't really set a romantic mood. You ever heard, "then he kissed me, under the fluorescent lights by lawn furniture" ? Didn't think so.

4) The Car Wash - this activity falls into the category of "errands you run before a date." The swirling soapy waters are not a turn-on, nor is the sweaty, pimply teenager vacuuming out your back seat.

5) The Gym - Now I'm all for working up a sweat with a guy, but not on side-by-side treadmills. I mean come on, have you looked in a mirror after you work out, do you think you look sexy with your beet-red face and pit-stained tee-shirt? And if you do look fresh and cute after a work-out, then you need to work-out a little harder. Dating is about pretending you're cooler than you really are, so don't blow the illusion right out of the gate...let him go first.

In a perfect world, all date venues would serve alcohol, but I will concede for the sake of you sober folks that dry events can still be considered dates. I would not, however, attempt too many non-alcoholic ventures until you're really sure you like the guy, cause the only thing worse than a bad date is a bad date with no vodka!

Poor Thing!

"Girls called me Skinny Minny and skeleton. Kids can be so cruel" - Eva Longoria, Star Magazine 3.20.06

Aww, bless her little heart, she was picked on as a child for being skinny. And just look how scarred she is now, with her perfect hair and perfect skin, wearing her perfect designer gown to the perfect Oscar parties.

Seriously, if you are a celebrity dating half the West Coast and being paid to prance around in front of God and everyone in a halter top and skin-tight jeans, then please do NOT bother us with your tales of childhood woe. We don't care, truly.

Understand that we cannot feel sorry for you. You were a skinny kid who grew up to be a skinny adult, who at the age of thirty can still be scene in public in a bikini, which is more than most of America can say. You self-admittedly eat basically whatever you want and hardly exercise.

We hate you. Now shut up before you get stabbed in the eye!

Oscar Re-cap

So how did everyone do with their Oscar picks? Jon Stewart was hysterical, but I thought the show on the whole was rather dull...as was the red carpet.

Regardless, there are still many celebs to trash.

Let us begin with Naomi Watts and her shredded fishnet of a dress. I mean, honey, did you walk to close to a turbine engine or something? What the hell was going on all over the front of your dress? You might need to consult a new stylist cause this one had you covered in flesh-colored rags.

And just so you don't feel so bad about firing your stylist, you can just send her right on over to Michelle Williams' house, cause even a bad style is better than no style at all. Now I know she was going for some retro throw-back look, but throw back is exactly what she needed to do. Lest you thought her striking I have one word for you.... MUSTARD! While just the color you want to see on your hotdog, it is not a shade I would suggest for your wardrobe, especially when you are so terribly pale. And again with the hair. This time she clearly paid someone to style her hair with frumpy fly-away bangs. The idea of getting one's hair done is so it doesn't look the same as when you head out to the grocery store. And if you're going to stick your bussies out all over the place, for the love of God, stand up straight!

Speaking of housewife hairdos, Keira Knightley, bless her heart looked lovely until she turned around and revealed the most pitiful ponytail in a third-graders bow barrette. Just because Halle Berry can pull off a ponytail as an Oscar-worthy hairdo, doesn't mean skinny young white girls should try it. Again, thousands of dollars worth of dress and jewels, and then hair that looks like you're playing J V softball.

Whereas, Charlize had her hair all done up, like a movie star was mean to be seen. Of course she needed an extra seat for the enormous bow on her shoulder, but at least she looked perfect from the neck up. Yes, she really got me, I was hoping for better things. I don't care how thin you are, big sashes slashing across your hips are never a good idea.

Reese was another disappointment. You won the award for acting like June Carter Cash, you didn't have to dress like her too! It was a lovely dress for a fifty-year-old woman, but Reese, honey, you need to show it off while you still got it (especially if you're gonna continue poppin' out the babies like you have been). Again, the pasty girl in the pasty dress, take a note from my girl Charlize and get a little spray tan next time. okay?

Gowns we expected more from include those worn by Rachel Weisz (though she gets a pass this time for being 7 months prego), Jennifer Aniston (considering the films you make this may be your only chance to be here so do a little something special), Salma Hayek (too much going on there, but yet not enough), and Sandra Bullock (fun that you had pockets and all, but otherwise blah).

The all-around best look of the night goes to the perfect-in-every-way...Jessica Alba. I'm telling you if I could have anyone else's body, it would be hers. And her hair was perfectly glam, her face flawless as always, and the dress, well, there are no words. Well, except that she seems to have shed a few pounds and is heading toward the boney side of the aisle...don't do it Jessica, leave the anorexic thing to Mischa Barton, she has so little else on her side. One of the interviewers asked Jessica about her beauty regimen and she said she worked out, drank lots of water, and ate desserts. Awwwe, Jessica, that's so sweet. We don't believe it for a second, but don't you just love her for tryin?

My Predictions...

...for the 2006 Academy Awards

Nominee with the Most Questionable Wardrobe Choice: Rachel Weisz (Prego or not, she misses as often as she hits.)

Nominee with the Most Frumpy Hair-Do: Michelle Williams (Why waste a $10,000 gown on a pony tail with fly-away bangs? You are on the Red Carpet, people will be taking your picture so can't you take an hour and get your hair done at an actual salon?)

Nominee Certain To Look Perfect: Charlize Theron (Bitch)

Presenter With the Biggest Ego: Jamie Foxx (Yes we know you played an excellent blind man, and yes we know you think you can sing. But just because you pranced around on stage at the Grammy's like a fool in a marching band does not mean you are some great "triple threat". Get over yourself)

Presenter With Lowest-Cut Gown: Salma Hayek (Have you ever seen her at an event without those things hanging out all over the place? Don't expect to this time either)

Least Qualified Presenter: Keanu Reeves (These are awards for "acting," right? How did he even get invited?)

Presenter Most Likely To Say Something Totally Ridiculous: Will Ferrel (I'm sorry, I don't get. I have tried, but I still can't understand any way that any part of Anchorman was remotely funny. He's an idiot.)


Other things to watch for:

Joan Rivers - are there any original features left on her face?

Jennifer Aniston - will she play sexy, single vixen or sweet, wounded babydoll?

Renee Zellweger - has she eaten in the past 6 months?

J-Lo - can you see her tiny hubby behind her ass?

Joaquin Phoenix - how weird and uncomfortable will he make everyone feel?

**Also, I hear Anna Nicole has started a film career so be on the look-out for trashy bimbo jumping the fence!!

Bathing Beauty

Now you know I couldn't let a picture like this go by without commentary. Here we have our favorite trailer trash out for a stroll on the beach. I guess I shouldn't call her trailer trash though, because it gives mobile home owners a bad name. Remember that I know of what I speak, seeing as my formative years were spent in one. However, no one in my family ever went out in public looking like this!

Again, I am not bashing her for gaining a little weight, hell it happens to the best of us, and her child isn't even a year old. In fact, you can disregard the picture on the left altogether, that's not even her. Everyone knows they super-imposed her head on my body (we've been embroiled in legal battles for the past three years).

I'm not saying thick folks can't go to the beach, or that they should wear bathing suits, though I do think that making bikinis in a size 16 is negligent on the part of the manufacturer, but whatever. What I am sayin', is that she has no business in that type of top. I mean Brit, honey, you're just fallin out all over the place. Hell your boobs are so damn big even the spandex can't control them and the whole slenderizing black thing just isn't working.

We know you put on a few, we know you just had a baby, it's okay...really! But is it necessary to just put it all out there for us? What about a nice full-coverage tankini; there's no shame in keeping your breasts inside your clothing. Your days of snake-charming and midriff baring are gone and if you have any hope of getting them back you best call Madonna right away and get on her pre-hernia yoga plan. You know you have propensity toward heiferdom, so either get it together or get over it, but for the love of God - GET OFF THE BEACH!!!

Which came first?

I have a confession to make...I have started taking yoga. Those of you who SUBSCRIBE to Diversions and Diatribes know that I swore off hot yoga after a near death experience, so you're probably rather surprised to hear of a second venture into the world of oddly-named contortions. However, I am researching a phenomenon of the exercise world that I've been pondering for quite some time now - does yoga make you a string bean or do string bean people have a tendency to do yoga? I'm telling you this keeps me up at night.

You see these skinny folks walking down the street and you wonder if those yoga mats strapped to their backs are the secret to their slim frame. I mean, I've never seen one on a treadmill (or in a steakhouse for that matter) so I just had to figure out what all the hype was about. I mean, if you can't feed 'em, join 'em, right?

Now I will grant you that holding yourself in an upside-down pike position for extended periods of time does provide a great deal of resistence and you can see how your arms might get a workout. Of course the next morning when muscles you didn't know existed are knotted so tightly you can barely get out of bed, well that's also a hint that yoga is a full body excercise. So it's clear that yoga is doing something for you, it's just not so clear what that is. I mean, you're not really sweating so you leave feeling limber but no thinner, which begs the question..what's the point? Do you think that I would haul my bunnies off the couch to trudge away on an excersie machine if I had 12% body fat? HELL NO! Ya'll know I'd be munching nachos at the bar, which probably explains the necessity of my burning a few calories, but whatever.

I will say the classes can be relaxing, though I'm still unclear about the group chanting thing. I think it's supposed to be some sort of energy channeling or some such, but it sounds more like the mating call of a herd of buffalo. However, since I have found no evidence to the contrary, I shall continue to take these classes until I have proven that yoga makes you thin, or until I am hospitalized for multiple hernias.