![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Well, today's Word workshop was a bust. I wasn't informed that the workshop was for total novices. While the instructor was busily explaining what a cursor was, I sat and drooled on myself, occasionally helping the utterly lost middle-aged man beside me. I can see myself teaching this sort of class, actually. I don't mind showing people how to highlight text, how to use the return key to move down a line, etc. But it certainly wasn't a class I should have been taking.
Finally, I did get someone to come over so I could ask my own questions, only to discover that my knowledge of Word is probably more extensive than theirs. And I'm sure I've logged less than five hours on this program. Yikes.
So I left early.
If nothing else, I did learn how to turn hyperlinks off in a document. That much is good, but not 90 minutes good. Ugh.
The meditation class tonight was better, thankfully.
It started off with all the participants sitting crosslegged on cushions and cute little mats with a lotus flower motif. After a few minutes of breathing exercises, we sat crosslegged or in half-lotus position for an hour.
It was almost exactly like figure modelling, only no one was drawing me.
I could feel myself going into zone space, that place I go to when I hold a long pose. My attention focused inward onto my breath, onto the movement of my diaphragm and lungs and trachea, and then onto nothing at all. But it didn't last. The sounds of other people shifting in discomfort made my own brain realize that hey, my right foot is really uncomfortable, and shit! My ankle is digging into the hard floor, and listen to all those birds singing! I wonder how long I've been sitting here? I wish that guy wouldn't breathe like that. It's kind of gross. And then the monastic chickie hit a wooden fish with a stick and I nearly yelped. It was the signal that the meditation section was over.
After waking our bodies back up, we put our mats and cushions away and adjourned to a sitting area for discussion.
Apparently, we shall be investigating different meditation techniques each week. Tonight was the sitting meditation. I think we may be doing walking meditation next week, which I've not really done before.
I didn't actually like the discussion part of the class very much. It went into a bit of detail as to what this particular branch of Buddhism is all about. I found some of the tenets overly simplistic, and I was filled with my usual yeah-buts, but didn't really feel comfortable with raising any objections. It just didn't feel like that sort of discussion. For instance, I don't believe life is suffering. Sure, it's a big part of it, but there's more to life than that. And I thought some of the metaphors were convenient, but just too tidy.
I am doomed to split hairs without even trying. Doom doom doom!
It is time for some more links.
Welcome to Marissa's world: This takes spoiled rotten to a whole new level. "The marketing of Marissa Leigh, age 16, is a job that employs 12 people. The Scottsdale princess has a manager and a publicist, of course. She has a voice coach and a makeup artist and a hairstylist willing to jet off whenev, wherev."
No Ugly Babies: And this takes ratings communities to a whole new low.
Perky breast bra: NSFW for fake booby pictures. Get implants without the surgery.
Trapped Rat Shoots Self and Photographs the Fatal Event: From a 1935 issue of Modern Mechanix magazine comes this bizarre photo. Why did someone set this up? I wouldn't call it a better mousetrap. I guess it's art, and at least one rat was harmed during the filming.
Finally, I did get someone to come over so I could ask my own questions, only to discover that my knowledge of Word is probably more extensive than theirs. And I'm sure I've logged less than five hours on this program. Yikes.
So I left early.
If nothing else, I did learn how to turn hyperlinks off in a document. That much is good, but not 90 minutes good. Ugh.
The meditation class tonight was better, thankfully.
It started off with all the participants sitting crosslegged on cushions and cute little mats with a lotus flower motif. After a few minutes of breathing exercises, we sat crosslegged or in half-lotus position for an hour.
It was almost exactly like figure modelling, only no one was drawing me.
I could feel myself going into zone space, that place I go to when I hold a long pose. My attention focused inward onto my breath, onto the movement of my diaphragm and lungs and trachea, and then onto nothing at all. But it didn't last. The sounds of other people shifting in discomfort made my own brain realize that hey, my right foot is really uncomfortable, and shit! My ankle is digging into the hard floor, and listen to all those birds singing! I wonder how long I've been sitting here? I wish that guy wouldn't breathe like that. It's kind of gross. And then the monastic chickie hit a wooden fish with a stick and I nearly yelped. It was the signal that the meditation section was over.
After waking our bodies back up, we put our mats and cushions away and adjourned to a sitting area for discussion.
Apparently, we shall be investigating different meditation techniques each week. Tonight was the sitting meditation. I think we may be doing walking meditation next week, which I've not really done before.
I didn't actually like the discussion part of the class very much. It went into a bit of detail as to what this particular branch of Buddhism is all about. I found some of the tenets overly simplistic, and I was filled with my usual yeah-buts, but didn't really feel comfortable with raising any objections. It just didn't feel like that sort of discussion. For instance, I don't believe life is suffering. Sure, it's a big part of it, but there's more to life than that. And I thought some of the metaphors were convenient, but just too tidy.
I am doomed to split hairs without even trying. Doom doom doom!
It is time for some more links.
Welcome to Marissa's world: This takes spoiled rotten to a whole new level. "The marketing of Marissa Leigh, age 16, is a job that employs 12 people. The Scottsdale princess has a manager and a publicist, of course. She has a voice coach and a makeup artist and a hairstylist willing to jet off whenev, wherev."
No Ugly Babies: And this takes ratings communities to a whole new low.
Perky breast bra: NSFW for fake booby pictures. Get implants without the surgery.
Trapped Rat Shoots Self and Photographs the Fatal Event: From a 1935 issue of Modern Mechanix magazine comes this bizarre photo. Why did someone set this up? I wouldn't call it a better mousetrap. I guess it's art, and at least one rat was harmed during the filming.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 02:31 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 02:33 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 02:34 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 10:39 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-05-02 04:39 pm (UTC)From:to say that show is the worst ever......is a sad understatement!