grad school, life, etc

...other people turning in their final project two weeks early and i’m over here like “ohshitohshitohshit i need to start that”

...the realization that all of my exams are within 24 hours of each other

...coming to terms with the fact that i have no idea what has happened all semester despite attending every single one of my classes

...when i can’t help but think that getting hit by a bus must be better than this

...when i realize that even if i get hit by a bus, i still have to deal with this

It's been almost six months since my wedding, a day I consider to be one of the happiest and best days of my life. But, as the holidays approach, and Tom and I began to receive our first set of christmas cards, I'm finding myself bothered by a small something.

A small four words.

Tom and Laurel McCosh.

Why should this bother me? Shouldn't I have taken his last name in July when we were married? The answer is a resounding "No".

But let's back up. Wedding time. The event girls in America are brought up to believe is life-changing, defining, the moment you become whole. I certainly believed that. I probably asked Tom hundreds of times before he proposed when he was going to. I was extremely jealous when friends and acquaintances announced their engagements and had their weddings. I wanted to be complete too. I wanted to be Mrs. Thomas McCosh. I wanted to belong to someone and I wanted to mean something. 

Let me pause on those two statements. I wanted to belong to someone. I wanted to mean something. It's the most destructive thought that a person can have, that their self worth is based on the acceptance of another person. Usually, I consider myself forward thinking, progressive, a liberal. But I actually felt that way about getting married. I couldn't wait to change my name.

The wedding came and went. It was beautiful, romantic, and everything we wanted it to be.

We never signed a marriage license or certificate. We never planned to. We had some reasons, all of which had to do with government and money, none of which really matter to us anymore. It is important to note that this decision had absolutely nothing to do with a lack of love. The signing of a government document does not define my relationship or quantify my love for my husband.

Although this decision to forgo a marriage certificate had nothing to do with my name, it gave me a chance to think about who I wanted to be. Before I got engaged, I was a college graduate with an English degree, destined to be a secretary for life. Tom was an aspiring first year law student. I felt that he was more important than me, and how well-off I would be depended entirely on how well-off he would be. During the two years that passed between our engagement and wedding I decided that I was done being unimportant. I went back to school with the goal of getting some kind of statistics degree. After a year of prerequisites and straight A's, I was accepted into a program I never thought I could get into. I had skills that Tom did not. I could do things none of my friends could. I had finally become important. I finally saw myself as important.

After the wedding I started my first semester in the Master of Statistics (Math track) program at the University of Utah. I decided that Laurel Baeder was someone important, and someone I actually wanted to be. I realized that I was not defined by the man I married (no matter how awesome he was), I was defined by the person I chose to be. I embraced myself.

When we send out our thank yous in October, I intentionally addressed the return on each one: Thomas McCosh & Laurel Baeder, including both our last names, both our identities. I thought that would be that, and I wouldn't have to think about the person I might've been ever again (honestly, seeing Laurel McCosh written down had started to creep me out, I never saw myself in that name).

Now it's Christmas time. We have already received several Christmas cards. Without exception they have all been addressed to Tom and Laurel McCosh. I know no one means any harm in this. Let me repeat that:

I know no one means any harm in this.

But I am offended. On Facebook, my name has remained Laurel Baeder. The envelope these people got my address off of said Laurel Baeder. No one confusedly asked me if my name was Baeder or McCosh. People simply assumed, despite my indications to the contrary that I was Laurel McCosh.

If you know me personally, and you are reading this, know that I love and respect you. Also know that I am asking for that same love and respect when I ask that you please use my name when addressing me. My given name. The name I wish to be recognized as:

Laurel Baeder.

Note for girls who aspire to someday be married:

Woke up in the new place to my 7am alarm. This isn't any different yet. I still don't want to get up. Feet on the floor and I remember that we have dirty, uncarpeted floors. I find my slippers, then husband's. He's asleep and doesn't care, but he'll thank me later.

I'm thinking that I'm just too tired for yoga. I wander over to best friend's room to chat with her about it.

*knock knock* "Whhaaaat?" It's obvious she's pretty tired too. But she convinced me to go to yoga. See, here's the thing. We need showers. No towels at home yet. I'm frustrated because I also haven't found my toothbrush yet. How can I go to yoga if I don't even know where my toothbrush is? But I have my yoga clothes, my mat, I can find the toothbrush, and we need showers. We're going to yoga.

The practice itself was an exercise in giving up. My entire inner monologue was focused on deciding what as the farthest I could push myself. How many correct chatarangas can I do? How many times am I going to just let myself fall on my face? The answer, surprisingly, is a lot of chatarangas. More than I expected.

It is very nice to exceed my own expectations especially when I feel so beat (by moving, yoga, life).

The plan is to hit tonight's 7:30pm restore class as well. I could use some restore after this weekend. More later.

Moving. ALL DAY.

Tomorrow is moving dat and I'm having a hard time because everyone is just pissing me off. The husband and I got into a huge fight right before yoga that made me really late for class. Amazingly I was able to completely let go of our unresolved argument and just be there with the yoga. I was probably able to do that because yoga is so hard right now. So for 40 minutes (apparently 30 is the minimum for a practice to count for the challenge) I let go of this huge deal problem and I was just with my body.

I also let go of being right in my poses. I found that it was less important that I do all of them or do then all correctly, than the fact that I actually made it to yoga today.

This is the journey, welcome to the beginning:

DAY 4

Things that happened today:

-> Left my jacket at a tutoring appointment

-> Still no cell phone (can't call them about my jacket...)

-> Lots of packing to move in 2 DAYS!!

-> Icky work meeting

-> Truth be told, the people I work with are fascinating. So not that icky, maybe.

The yoga: SO HARD. Oh my God. (I don't even believe in God.) My body is so tired. Before class my abs just ached. During, my arms were so weak that I think I only managed a couple correct Vinyasas. Mostly I would fall from high push up right on to my stomach. My arms actually hurt writing this. [Note: These entries are initially handwritten] I have about 12 hours before my next practice. I need to recover somehow. There is no way I can do morning yoga tomorrow.

After yoga is life. Life is everywhere. Blah. Husband and I made this delicious soup for dinner (NOT VEGAN!), and we disassembled the bed frame.

I'm currently sitting in child's pose writing this in the space where my bed used to be. I cannot wait to be done moving. Moving is so much work, and I've never felt so disorganized.

Note: This entry was written long after the actual day 3 yoga. I guess my crazy life is getting the best of me.

DAY 3

So busy! I spent the afternoon today having a very emotionally charged discussion with my mother-in-law about her being my mother-in-law. We spend so long arguing that the husband/fiance/boyfriend/permanent roommate and I almost missed yoga. In fact, I was sure that we were going to miss yoga...but...

We were only ten minutes late for the outdoor yoga at the Grand America, which is okay by me because I wasn't stressed about it and doing yoga outside with 200 other people and a boat load of instructors is awesome! The rules for the yoga challenge say that 45 minutes is enough to count as a practice, too. So it counts. Day 3 complete! Definitely feeling pumped about that and okay about the earlier stuff.

I was able to overcome the shitty stuff (with MIL) and get my yoga on anyway. Totally worth it.

DAY 2

My arms are weak, but my mind is strong! I most feel determined right how. And confident. Two classes done! Earlier today I was feeling so bothered by all the shit surrounding the challenge that I just didn't want: accountability partner I don't know, vegan diet, landmark-y language, etc. BUT this is MY CHALLENGE and it's going to be whatever the hell I want it to be.

This is about my physical body. This is about my anxiety. This is about my inner monologue.

Before and during class tonight I repeated to myself (in my head) "I am not in a hurry. I am not late" I got myself so worked up about being late on my way to the studio tonight that I figured tonight's practice was going to have to be about slowing down. (As I write this as fast as possible...)(btw, I was not even late for class despite all the worrying)

Aside from actually showing up on time, the mantra also has to do with my actual practice. I'm so competitive that I constantly find myself frustrated when I can't do some pose or another or hold it for long enough. But here's the thing I've been telling myself, "I am not in a hurry." So what my arms are weak?! I will get there when I'm ready. No hurry, and I'm going to enjoy the ride.

Side note, I think I might like going to yoga better when neither the husband or the best friend are there with me. I love them both, but they are awfully distracting. I don't mind the distraction most of the time, but I think that for me to get the most out of yoga and the 30 day challenge, it's going to need to be a solitary thing.

So my intention tonight was to slow down. And I feel slower. I'm just chilling in my car, finally not in a rush to be anywhere. I think I need to go to yoga in the mornings. Start the day like this.

GOAL: Morning yoga tomorrow (and morning yoga twice a week minimum)

Until tomorrow, cya.

Despite what I said previously, if you try really hard you can look graceful doing yoga poses out in nature. I'm no model, but this is actually me. I call it "Eagle on the Rock", pithy, right?

Now for the real stuff:

Where was DAY 1 and DAY 2 of the 30 day challenge?

Are you giving up so soon?

Short answer, no. Medium answer, NO NEVER.

Long answer, after writing two journal entries after two classes I've realized three things: 1. The journal entries are extremely personal in nature. 2. The more open I am in my journaling, the more satisfaction & peace I feel about things. And 3. Since my computers are all in boxes, I have no cell phone right now, and I need to work at work, I cannot set aside enough time to post to tumblr about this daily. Though I think the public blogging is extremely important to the 30 day process.

Without further ado,

DAY 1

The first practice was a mixed bag. Not the yoga, but everything that happened in and around the yoga. Class was great, my arms hurt. They're getting stronger. God I hope they're getting stronger. I feel like a loser when I can't handle anymore down dog, but I know it's just part of the process.

The before-and-after yoga though. The real life that surrounds this challenge.

Before, I arrive at the studio in a rush. I'm always late. I'm preoccupied with a package in the mail-- a new smart watch. My hands are completely torn up. I don't know what it is that enabled me to stop biting and picking through July (probably the wedding) but it is gone now. On one finger on my left hand I actually went so far as to scratch off a square inch of skin, leaving a really awful sore. The sore gets in the way during some poses, it's a reminder that I need to get my shit together god damn it.

After, I'm relaxed and excited. This nutritionist says we should stop eating meat and dairy and basically be vegans. I'm not buying it. I'm mildly irritated. I didn't sign up for vegan brainwashing. I signed up for yoga. I am still relaxed though. Class ends and I find myself with an accountability partner. Someone I didn't know until five minutes ago. I'm concerned to say the least. I'm so communicationally challenged at the moment. There's also the part where she might hate me. It is possible. Some people hate me. I'm suddenly reminded of my mother in law. I talk to the best friend about her plans for the rest of summer. I think she's making not just bad choices, but shitty choices.

I'm angry-- sort of. I mostly feel defeated and sort of subdued. Like I can't be fully angry right now. This is different. I'm usually all fiery. She says, "You're lucky I even told you" as if I don't deserve to know and she regrets telling me.

I feel like "sigh". I feel defeated. I feel tired. I feel small. I feel like I cannot help her.

I feel different than her. (but not angry... weird)

The biggest things in my life right now:

moving     grad school     real job     just married     want to have kids

husband graduating law school      which state to move to after school

The biggest things in best friend's life right now:

?????????????????????????????????????????

I do not feel like a good friend.

So I'm starting this challenge next week:

I'm super stoked. Yoga is some of the most fun I've even had.

Since yoga is for both the body and the mind I've decided that I'm going to write 30 blog posts as a companion to my 30 practices.

(I don't look like this when I do yoga. But some people do.)

So that's the deal. Thirty practices, thirty posts. Within two hours of the yoga, I'm going to make the post. I'm going to really slow down and connect with myself.

the wedding is in 11 days

I wish I had time to get more sleep so I could go to more yoga. I basically think about yoga all the time, almost as much as the impending wedding.

There's just something about a stifling hot room and endless sunbeams and down dogs that just keeps you crawling back (despite the fact that it requires waking up at 5:15 am). I actually feel more tired on the days I DON'T go to yoga early.

Sometimes I leave yoga and feel like I hate myself a little less. Tonight, after the relaxing session (aptly called PowerYin), I hated myself a little more. I could tell because I just wanted to pick at my hands. And I did. This is notable because I have not bitten my fingernails since June. My cuticles are another story. When someone tells me to relax, maybe I just want to be a rebel and get all agitated instead.

Despite the two new cuts on my thumbs, I am excited to go to yoga tomorrow. I would be overjoyed if I could finally find the dedication to do two classes in one day. That would be... blissful.

But wanting to go to yoga doesn't make a lot of sense. It takes up time. It makes me smelly. It is incredibly expensive ($40 membership + $70 "the mat" + $103 yoga clothes + $$$ in extra gas to go to the studio + $ because I have to do three times as much laundry). And it is difficult (you try balancing on one foot with your hands all intertwined for five minutes). 

However, there is just something about the breathing, or the stretching farther into a position, or getting a little faster about the up-dog-to-down-dog thing, that is just so rewarding. Rewarding in a super abstract way. No one is really paying attention to me, so it's not that I've shown other people how good I am. I think it's that I know I'm good, and I feel kind of awesome that I've gone this far or done this well or however you explain it. Abstractly, I suppose.

what's better, being arrogant but confident or being unconfident but humble?

i'm pretty sure i fall into the first category

this thing i'm working on at work has these categories:

"Irregularly Irregular

Regular

Regularly Irregular"