a day's work

In honor of upward facing mondays, which have been woefully neglected of late, I am here to report that Erin and I have been official yoga-teachers-teaching-yoga now for almost two full weeks.

Unfortunately, not a single person has been to any of our classes. Which leads me to the age-old existential dilemma: If a yoga teacher calls out poses alone in a forest...

It remains a possibility that the reason we are student-free is the fact that we have told no one the time and location of our classes. And for some mysterious reason, our "boss" does not seem to be at all interested in the distribution of promotional materials. It seems that the "let it be," "teach-and-they-will-come" yoga-tude does not mesh with the traditional business practices of things like, I don't know, marketing? I guess the idea is if we teach to an empty room for long enough, all of the positive energy we create will seep through the building and waft into town, much like the intoxicating scent of back-door donuts after midnight (the only available post-bar munchy on the island), tickling the senses of the yoga-minded and dragging them like zombies to the studio door.

I'll let you know how that works out.

Speaking of work: I needs me some more. Finding a job for the summer on this island is, I will venture to say, unlike any experience of employment-seeking anywhere else. It is not as simple as deciding what you want to do, sending out a resume, interviewing, etc. It is a carefully choreographed routine of finding a few hours here, a few hours there, adding it all up and watching the cold hard cash pour in. Here are some examples of the ways that we are planning on earning our keep:

Along with her regular shifts at the restaurant, where she will continue to dazzle both kitchen-staff and clientele with inane questions and a level of hand-eye coordination comparable to a developmentally-challenged bear cub, Alex has signed on to help maintain a vegetable garden in Gay Head (which only wash-ashores would dare to call by it's proper name: Aquinnah.) She will also teach her extremely popular weekly yoga class, and possibly a few other classes elsewhere, if her dedicated following will agree to share her with the rest of the island. In her spare time, she hopes to pen insightful pieces for two island newspapers (next up: how to clean your gutters!), various online publications, and, fingers crossed, finish the young adult novel she's been working on since the late seventies.

Erin will join Alex for one-to-two weekly shifts of chowder-pushing fun, in addition to the random nights she is picking up at pretty much every restaurant from here to the mainland. She will also stick with her loyal gardening crew, where she will dead-head her little heart out, spying on the rich and used-to-be-famous and trying not to accidentally run over their yippy dogs with her car. In addition to these regular scheduled gigs, she will babysit for the world's most adorable two-year-old twins (who wear matching carhartt overalls and rainboots in inclement weather), be a companion to a feisty (and sometimes verbally abusive) elderly feminist, shadow an autistic girl, teach yoga, and keep up with the house/yardwork required for her room and board.

So if anyone is looking for, I don't know, anybody to do anything...between the two of us we could probably squeeze a few more hours in. I did see an ad in the paper for a Shellfish Warden, and I think it might be the job for me. I've always said that those oysters could use a little discipline.

meantime

Oh, hello. Bet you thought we were never coming back. Things have been a' shifting over on this here island, which I guess is to be expected as we enter the never-easy transition from life on an empty little haven to the daily hustle and where-the-hell- did-all- these-people-come- from-bustle of life on a vacation hot spot.

We both have much to report, and hereby swear to do so soon. For my part, there's been some doggy drama, and to avoid getting into complex vet-speak which might terrify some and bore the rest to tears, I will simply say that the little Whiskey man could use some happy thoughts from the World Wide Web.

And after you have thought your happy Whiskey thoughts, might I suggest that you head back over to Identity Theory and check out some more interviews? Including one I did with Doug Pray, director of the just-released documentary Surfwise, which I highly recommend you see. Immediately.

With any luck, by the time you've found your nearest indie theatre or rented the DVD, watched the movie, discussed it with friends and checked back in, we will have waved goodbye to the worst of our seasonal-affective-disorder and be back in full force for your time-wasting amusement.

Caught.

Oh hi...Although this may look like chewing, I am simply sniffing your shoe.














I swear.















I don't know how that happened.