"Ms. Stoeger, my plastic surgeon doesn't want me doing any activity where balls fly at my nose." - Clueless

*image property of http://www.porhomme.com/

What: Dodgeball
Where: PS 87 (Upper West Side)
Who: Shake That Bear


Much to my delight my roommate, Carson, invited me to play dodgeball with his office on a Zog sports team. Having passed on their basketball team last season due to a lack of hand-eye coordination I figured that it would be pretty hard to screw up a sport intended for 12 year olds.

Almost immediately I realized that my assumption was wrong. Not only is dodgeball harder than I remember, but the stakes are raised when it is an adult game. Apparently it is socially acceptable to lose at a real sport like soccer or baseball, but the idea of losing at a children’s game makes men nearing midlife crisis age even more competitive.

I arrived at PS87 at 6:00 PM for a warm-up with my team, Shake That Bear. The team name eluded me and if the meaning escapes you as well count yourself lucky. One of my teammates brought his son who coincidentally had played dodgeball earlier in the week at school. The 11 year old boy very quickly put me to shame (although I would argue he had the advantage by being small.)

After the first game I started to get the hang of it and learned not to close my eyes while trying to catch a ball…I realize most of you reading this probably would have figured this out beforehand, but I assure you it is exceedingly hard to do when balls are flying at your face.

By the fourth and final game I was definitely in the better half of the pack. A new feeling, one I did not experience at the ripe old age of 12, arose; feeling badly for aiming at the girls. A few girls on the opposing teams were scared of the balls and hitting them felt wrong, which makes me a wimp or a victim of their highly tactical head game.

I did however derive great pleasure from pegging a guy who screamed “Who’s your Daddy?” every time he got someone out. Needless to say I shouted his catch phrase as he sidled off the court.

All in all our team turned out to be pretty awesome and won all four games. It was a super fun thing to do and an added bonus that all the money raised by member fees goes to charity.

Our celebration? Shake Shack…but that institution deserves a whole other post.

Goals Accomplished:
1) First Zog sports experience
2) Not uncomfortable...just embarrassed
3) Learned that children's sports can be for adults too...but to be weary of the competitiveness of balding men

Why am I Arched Up During Downward Dog?

*Image property of www.trek2befit.com

What: Yoga
Where: 24 Hour Fitness
Who: Strangers and Me

Yoga seemed to be all the rage over the past few years (and probably before then, but unbeknownst to me) so I decided it was time to take my first class. I thought it best to start out low key (read: free) at the 24 Hour Fitness I belong too.

This time would not be like my spin class, I would be prepared. So I gathered my water bottle and towel and made my way to the gym on a recent Saturday. I showed up at the class five minutes early to find myself standing entirely with women. Not terribly surprised, I waited with them until the previous class finished.

Fearful of being in the front of them room I grabbed a spot towards the back with the matt that my gym had provided (this would be a good idea until the teacher would make us turn around during certain positions.)

The teacher arrived moments later and I really don’t think there is a way not to sound stereotypical. She had wavy (or free as she would describe) hair, spandex pants, and spoke in a calming voice that she would refer to as wind throw the willows, although I am quite sure that no wind ever uttered the words “downward dog.”

I am slightly hesitant to say the class itself was rather easy, although I did not find it greatly challenging. What I found more challenging was concentrating, there were just so many things in the classroom to look at: the crack in the floor at the front of the room, the punching bag swaying slightly, the mirror that reflected everyone’s twisted faces. All of these distractions made it hard to imagine myself in the green pastures of Thailand or some other country she continually referred too.

However, I will pride myself on only laughing twice. The first being on downward dog (do I really need to explain further?) and the second being when a girl who quickly deemed herself as the teachers pet toppled over, try not to judge me too much (after all the Germans created a word for this so it can’t be all bad; schadenfreude.)

My cousin has invited me to partake in Vinyasa yoga at a studio in the East Village…this time I am actually fearful after looking it up, but then again…it will be something new.

Goals Accomplished:
1) First time going to a Yoga class
2) Some of the positions were uncomfortable
3) Learned that not all Yogis (is that a word?) are hippies, names for positions don't always make sense, and it can actually be kind of fun

Personal Assistant or Dog Walker? Doesn't Matter if You're in the Hamptons!

*Walli "enjoying'" the beach

What: Weekend Trip
Where: The Hamptons (Amagansett)
Who: My cousin, Walli, Myself...and a few fun encounters

The Hamptons, what felt like an elusive getaway for me, but a regular excursion for many of the elite. Having grown up in New England friends would go there over the summers. However, I had never been there myself…until recently.

My old boss who I was a ‘personal assistant’ for (read: glorified dog walker) informed me that Walli, his golden retriever, “needed” to go to the beach for the weekend. While I am not a person that treats dogs like humans, I am a poor recent college graduate who believes in treating the likes of me as a celebrity.

Without hesitation I jumped at the opportunity to dog sit in Amagansett with my cousin, Jess, who would be accompanying me. Not only would we be weekending there, we would get to take his SUV (read: environment killer) there. This allowed us to avoid the Jitney, which I was slightly sad about since I have heard so much about it and I am sure would be a new experience all in itself.

Jess, Walli, and I drove the three hours to the beach for what turned into quite the memorable weekend. A fun fact that my prior boss and Jess managed to leave out was that his neighbor was a celebrity and friend of theirs; Sarah Jessica Parker.

Trying not to be too eager about meeting her I pretended not to be disappointed when I missed her the first time we stopped by her house. Luckily on round two I caught her off guard and was the strange cousin of her friend. Immensely excited, I tried to hide it by casually greeting hello.

The house we stayed at was wonderful and only twenty short feet to the private beach. Swimming twice a day was great (once during the day and then again at night.) However, it was disconcerting to actually be able to see the stars for the first time in a few months.

To top off the weekend we got a surprise visitor, another friend of my cousins and my old boss, Matthew Morrison. This has become a namedropping post, my apologies; I am more trying to lay out the weekend than boast about my dumb luck…not really luck if you don’t care about celebrities.

Overall, it was a great weekend, but I see why only “the super rich can afford it,” as said by Robin Leach.

Goals Accomplished:
1) First time going to the Hamptons
2) Mostly comfortable, but nervous around for celebrities (this must have been instilled by society because by the looks of it they are human)
3) Having the "right" friends can have benefits