Suck on That Utkatasana

There is nothing about me that would make anyone think “wow, that girl would be at yoga.” I’ve never been able to touch my toes (What do toes even feel like?), I roll my eyes at almond milk, and I make fun of almost everything.

Yet, I’ve recently found myself in an upside-down V staring at my bellybutton.

I don’t know why I started yoga, but I’m determined to be good at it. I have a yoga mat, so I’m halfway there. And I’m mostly a vegetarian.

Yoga has been rubbing off on me. I keep finding myself always wanting to stretch. I sit cross-legged in class. When my housemates and I watch TV I’m always on the ground in what they’ve coined “very slow motion writhing.” I’ll take it.

I’m still pretty terrible at yoga. I’ve been practicing almost everyday, but I haven’t mastered the most basic poses. I still can’t touch my toes, I can’t do a push-up, and when I’m in a yoga pose I look like a shaky 3-second-old calf.

But there is one pose I knock out of the park. It’s called Utkatasana, or Sitting Pose. After years of competitive soccer and keeping my legs strong in case someone invites me to go dancing, I laugh when my Youtube yogis say they’re feeling the burn with Utkatasana. Haha, weaklings.

Here is a picture of me doing Utkatasana. As you can see, my form is perfect. Look how low I am to the ground. Look how straight my back is. Look how shiny my hair is.


Thanks to Utkatasana, I’m going to stick with yoga. But stay the hell away from me, almond milk.


Pros and Cons: Immortality

I’ve been watching True Blood, so tonight I’m going to list the pros and cons of immortality.


  • you don’t die
  • your financial investments have time to grow tremendously
  • you get to see what spaceships will look like
  • you have time to travel the world and learn all new languages
  • you probably have a lot of Facebook friends
  • you get more husbands
  • you can get a beer with your great-great-great-great-great grandkids
  • you get to see what beer of the future tastes like
  • beer


  • you watch the people you love die off
  • you have more AP Style changes to keep up with
  • you’ll probably still die when the world collapses from global warming
  • you never get senior citizen discounts
  • you have to spend a lot of time at the DMV because your license still expires every 7 years
  • you have a ton of dead pets (***double weight***)
  • you never belong in this world

As you can see, the immortality pros outweigh the immortality cons. Obviously there is nothing I can do to become immortal (please let me know in the comments if you know of anything) but for the record, I would like to be immortal.

Separate but not Equal: The story of two burritos

Between ISIS, Ebola and climate change, the world has a lot on its hands right now. And while the Triangle is tuned into these international crises, a local catastrophe is escalating largely unnoticed.

It’s the story of the Cosmic Cantinas, two hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurants in Durham and Chapel Hill. It’s the story of burritos. And it’s the story of despair.

As a native Durhamite, I grew up with the flagship Cosmic. I tripped up its groaning stairs and gleefully ordered a mini vegetarian burrito. I know that gleefully is a cliche word, but I was very much full of glee when I was in that sanitation-grade-hidden heaven.

I want to tell you about the mini vegetarian but I can’t. Gabriel Garcia Marquez couldn’t even sew the words together to give justice to the black beans, rice, cheese and pico de gallo. All I can say is that when my burrito would fold back and some of its entrails would fall on the table I would stand up, get a fork, and make that table my plate.

When I came to Chapel Hill I knew Cosmic’s younger brother on Franklin St. couldn’t be as good as the Cosmic I grew up with. And, as always, I was right.

It wasn’t as good. It was slightly more expensive (at the Durham Cosmic I could get my mini veg and a Pibb Extra for $3) but it was still Cosmic, so it was still good.

Unfortunately, that’s changing. The Durham Cosmic is as delicious as ever but in the past four years, the Chapel Hill Cosmic’s prices have sky-rocketed and quality has plummeted. Quesadillas are soggy and my mini vegetarian burrito is a tasteless ghost of its subpar past. Prices rose over the summer. A vegetarian burrito is now close to $4. I don’t know the exact price because I close my eyes to block out the world when I hand the portly disappointment my Visa.

This is a disturbing trend that needs immediate attention. I don’t exactly know what kind of attention, but I’ll think about it. This blog may only have one reader, but this is a call to burrito action. ISIS can wait, my taste buds can’t.

Here is a real picture of a mini vegetarian burrito bought 9/24/14:


What is this? 1960s America?? Come on, mix it up a little.

Ten Minutes at Alpine in the Morning

At 7:39 a.m. backpacks slump farther down students’ backs and eyes are still decorated with sleep crumbles.

Alpine Bagel Cafe is the hub on campus. Well, as much of a hub as any place can be before the first classes on a college campus.

Two employees in Alpine’s signature forest green t-shirts scurry behind the carb counter in routine.

It’s a constant flow of calling up the next person in line, muttering down at the bagel, and then handing the breakfast to the hand on the other side.

The woman’s “Can I help the next guest?” is a practiced song that rises at the end as another morning-weary student edges forward.

It’s like they could do this routine with their eyes closed. They could slide the questionable-looking egg into the microwave and punch 20 seconds. They could spread just a little bit too much cream cheese on the blueberry bagel, wrap in up, and chop it in half.

At 7:50 a.m. the line is longer, and the day begins.

The Letter I’ll Never Send

This is a dramatic title. This isn’t a five-page handwritten letter to my overseas soldier boyfriend who just died saving a group of weirdly cute children. That would be pretty cool, but if that were the case I would really milk the situation and it would definitely be the subject of all future blog posts.

I’m getting off track here.

The letter I’m actually never going to send is one to the staff at the DTH. I can’t send it, because I am one of them. It’s about their attitude towards sororities and fraternities, specifically about the new advice column published on Monday (I think it was Monday.) The DTH being “anti-Greek” is not a new a criticism, which makes it even worse that they would publish such a stupid response.

Anyway, here is the letter to the editor that I would send:

I was disappointed by your first “You Asked For It” advice column response regarding a sorority member moving into her sorority house.

It was vapid, predictable and didn’t actually give any substantial advice.

In the past, The Daily Tar Heel has been criticized for its callous attitude to campus Greek members. But the first YAFI proves that complaints have fallen on deaf ears as writers and editors continue to ostracize a significant population within UNC. When you do that you lose readership, but more importantly, you lose credibility.

I understand the advice column is light-hearted and opinion-based, but it was just another blatant jab at UNC’s Greek life.

People can take a joke. What they can’t take is being constantly disrespected in a nationally-recognized publication. Address your news staff’s undue treatment toward sororities and fraternities or I’ll give you postage to send back all those awards.

Thought Catalog Lists

I don’t like Thought Catalog. I think it’s a collection of girly lists that rarely contribute anything substantial to society/anyone in the world besides the writer’s close family.

So here is my reaction to a popular Thought Catalog post that kept popping up my newsfeed. I would also like to thank Chelsea Fagan for this beautiful gift to us all. Also, I wonder how you pronounce her last name. If it’s fay-gan, that’s fine. But if it’s fag-ann, then my high school boyfriend is laughing.

1. Play with her hair while the two of you are watching TV. It doesn’t have to be complex, just a little light head touching/hair-messing-with will put her into a near-meditative state.

Playing with hair is an art. When inexperienced people play with hair it’s like a toddler playing with a pile of pine straw.

2. Get your dessert to-go at the restaurant so the two of you can eat it at home while watching a movie/your favorite TV show.

Yes, I do like food. Always yes to food. There are few things more romantic than banana pudding

3. Instead of just asking her where she wants to go for dinner — because you know that she loves when you put in the effort to choose, but is really picky when it comes to what she wants — give her three options that you want to go to (including one or two you haven’t tried before, if possible). It’s the best of both worlds.

This seems more logistical than romantic. Also, I’m not picky about where I want to eat. Rude.

4. If you spend the night at her place (or even if you share the place) make the bed while she’s in the shower or getting ready.

Damn straight you better make the bed. Those are just manners.

5. When she’s on her way home from a big day at work, text her to be like “I’m ordering takeout from [insert her favorite place here] and opening a bottle of wine. What would you like?”

See answer two.

6. If she’s wearing really nice heels for a night out, offer to grab a taxi as you’re about to head home so she doesn’t have to navigate the treacherous stairs of the metro after a long night.

What if I’m wearing really nice flats?

7. Offer to help her with one thing on her weekend to-do list if you notice she’s overwhelmed. Even just running to the grocery store to grab some basics can be an enormous help.

What the hell is a weekend to-do list?

8. Before a trip somewhere (or just for no reason), get her a little nightgown or pajamas that are both comfortable and cute. We can always use more cute/functional sleepwear, and it’s something we rarely take the time to buy for ourselves.

I would say there is such a thing as too much sleepwear.

9. Cup her face gently when you kiss her, especially if it’s a totally everyday, run-of-the-mill-love-ya kiss.

Help! I can’t stop rolling my eyes!

10. Bring her things she loves, but which are not ‘quintessentially romantic.’ A bag of Cheetos, a nice shade of nail polish you liked at the drug store, or a weird t-shirt can mean much more than roses.

Yes, I like material goods.

11. Cuddle her unexpectedly while in public. Like, put your arm around her in an affectionate (without being over-the-top) way, and let her sort of melt into you.


12. Get the ingredients to make her favorite cocktail and have them waiting for her when she gets home.


13. One day, for no reason at all, call in sick and have her call in sick so that the two of you can spend the day together watching movies, ordering in food, and hanging out.

Well that’s integrity. And have fun at your desk with the flu in a couple of months.

14. Compile a small list of fun things going on in your city that weekend, and send them to her work email on Friday morning to choose from.

What if you live in Fayetteville??

15. Urge her to get the delicious-looking cheese-based dish instead of the salad, because you know she’ll just eat yours if you don’t.

I saw cheese and so I say yes. Also, are we still depending on the girl and salad stereotype. Ugh be more original.

16. Be protective over something small (cute protective, not controlling protective). Like if she’s about to go out and the forecast says it miiiiight rain, insist that she takes her umbrella as she’s walking out of the house.

Don’t be dramatic.

17. Pack her a lunch for work one day and write her name on the bag in Sharpie. (Alternatively, put a little note on a napkin and put it in the bag.)

How about you slip a Panera’s gift card in there instead? And feel free to Sharpie it, but steer clear of the barcode.

18. Attempt to help her with her makeup/beauty routine, even if you’re terrible at it. (In fact, especially if you’re terrible at it — think Justin Timberlake painting his girlfriend’s toes in the “Gone” video.) Alternative: let her test out something on you on a boring Friday night at home.

Where did this even come from?

19. Convince her that you totally forgot to plan something for her birthday/your anniversary/something special, and then at the last minute be like “Sike get ready, we have reservations at 8:30,” and take her to something extra special.

I don’t like surprises.

20. Rub her back for no reason.

Or the reason could be that I like it?

21. Start watching a show with her and be religious about only watching it when the two of you can watch it together. Waiting on an episode of Game of Thrones so you can enjoy it together is the ultimate sign of love and commitment.”

“Ultimate sign of love and commitment”

My first job interview

Yesterday I had my first behavioral interview for my first real job (yesterday was also when I learned what a behavioral interview was.) The interview was for CEB, a member-based advisory company. Basically, it researches and analyzes business practices and then sells memberships to Fortune 500 companies for access to that data. I did well in the interview, and because I have experience in sales, I think I have a competitive edge.

But I never really imagined that I would be doing that. I’ve never known what I wanted to do when I grow up. I never had a dream career as a child. Other kids would draw themselves in space or taking an apple for a child, or directing a hose at a burning building.

My drawings were always lackluster.

I’ve always had likes and dislikes, and strengths and weaknesses, but that’s about it. What I do know, is that my passion is not meeting in leather chairs with a legal pad and Dasani bottled water trying to cross-sell CEOs. I wish it was, because I’m good at it, but it’s not.

I thought my life’s passion would just fall into my lap. But it hasn’t. The only thing on my lap is popcorn crumbs and half a string cheese.