Not like I have ever been told, 'wooooh, there lady! you need yourself a face lift!' But when CW NOW requested that I put my money maker aka. face up to be poked, prodded, polished, creamed, pulled, lasered, and more all in the name of good tv! Woot.
So being a sensible woman in my twonties, I thought, why not give it a go? I have never really been to a dermatologist...ok, that is a complete lie. Once I went into my doctor's office because I had Mt,. Vesuvious about to blow on my face, and I thought, even though I was just a producer tehn, this cannot be humanly possible. I cannot stand to live in a world where my face is the playground for volcanic zits. GAWD. Oh wait, where was i going? oh right. So i got a referral to a dermatologist to see this one zit. And when I went back to my doctor, she said, 'i cannot believe the doctor who was seeing you while I was on maternity leave referred you to a dermatologist. it was a zit.' Thanks lady.
Anyhoo, back to this visit to a famous Beverly Hills doctor. His name is Dr. Lancer, and he is known as the dude who gives a lot of the A-listers in LA their glow on teh red carpet. Supposedly his clients include Beyonce, Kate Hudson, Denise Richards, and some other people. As the in-depth reporter I am, I decide to go to the doctor's office and havce him perform some of the 'maintenance work' he performs on the stars to let them glow while they flow down the red carpet. This included Micropolishing, Matrix IR laser treatment, and an oxygen and placenta facial.
Let's start with Micropolishing. Now remember, during the entire 1.5 hours or so of these treatments, I am on camera the entire time, and I have to look like i am having a ball! And most of the time I am, until it comes to poking. So Micropolishing. Micropolishing is like microdermabrasion, where the doctor goes in with a device and exfoliates the dead cells off your face. Dr. Lancer's little tool was different. when you look at it, you see a polisher that looks much like the device a dentist uses to polish your teeth when you go in for your cleanings. Now instead of this little bristle at the end of the device, imagine a tiny suction cup with a little bit of crystal in there and comes out at the suction cup sucks your skin into the head of the device. That's right. So the doctor asks me what it felt like. I wanted to say, well it feels like one of those sucker fish I used to have in my fish tank went out into the world, fell in love with a barracuda, had little sucky toothed babies, and that baby found my face and started teaching me a lesson. But since there are cameras on me, I said, 'It feels interesting, like a little suction and I can feel something polishing my skin.' Consumate professional is my middle name. ;)
Now for the Matrix IR laser. Dr. Lancer was kind enough to note that my skin was pretty healthy and tone and in 30 or so years, I will not have to worry about huge wrinkles. YES! Thank you mom for the good genes. But to show off his 'star treatment,' I underwent a laser treatment anyhow. And on that note, have you ever noticed how 'laser' is very similar to 'taser'? Yup. Well lemme tell you something, being close to naked with one of those flimsy paper gowns on, but still wearing my cowboy boots, I don't even know, please don't ask, I was lying on my back as Dr. Lancer starts putting all this jelly, which he so sweetly describes as 'Just like KY Jelly'. I swear to god! What woman wants to hear that her doctor is gonna squirt a sexual lubricant on her face after he puts a little blindfold on her?!!!!?! So he squirts all this jelly on my face, then continues to rub it in. And then a question gets asked. Dude! That jelly got really close to my mouth and when i had to TALK, it went in!!!!! IN!!!!! aaarrrggghhhhh! And then the 'treatment' begins. So he puts this laser on my face and runs it around while shooting these little tiny pulses of light onto my face. How does it feel? Honestly, it was kinda uncomfortable. It was as if someone was using a very low wattage shocker on my skin. It was not totally crazy, but I like to think I blow things way out of proportion and that is what makes my life exciting. Honestly, when they asked me how it felt, all I could think was, 'Man, no wonder laser rhymes with taser.'
And then came the oxygen and placenta masks. Now oxygen mask is no big deal, they take this little beaker thingie filled with clean oxygen and gently blow it on my face. It was really relaxing actually, since I was lying comfortably down on a large lounger and there was a heating pad on my lower back. They do know how to treat a girl! And then it ended. Now comes the placenta! So the aestetician takes out the jar of stuff and starts smearing it on my face, saying the placenta is really healthy and hydrating for my skin. Great. My only question, where does this placenta come from? Cows? Dogs? Chickens? She says, 'humans.' My first thought, 'OMG are there just people who troll the hospitals and once a baby is born, they do a knee slide into the delivery room with a pan in hand to catch the placenta?' But being a lady and on camera, I keep these thoughts to myself. Or at least to myself until the camera turns off and I start to type. hello! :) So after finding out that this is human placenta, culled in an FDA approved lab, and worth a lot of money, I am still a little uncomfortable, but getting ok with the idea of having human detritus purposely smeared onto my face. Then she gets it close to my mouth. OMG. I must have kicked a kitten in a previous life to have this happen. Do you know where placenta comes from? Starbucks doesn't use it as a coffee flavoring, so could we not give Chi-Lan the taste sensation?! Anyhow, after freaking out all in my head and laughing about how the placenta was peeling on my face after we finish the facial, I have ot say, I was feeling quite moisturized and glowy. :)
Whatever that doctor did seemed to work, as I didn't look like crap. And you can see the story on CW NOW this Sunday. Check it yo! Then holler back.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Unusual Bruises
You ever just wake up in the morning and think, OUCH! Damn! What the hell happened and why does the top of my shoulder feel so bruised? Those my friends are the markings of a good holiday party. That's right. CW NOW had their holiday party over the weekend and it was open bar. Hello, that is the only language I speak when I am out and about. So...everyone was there, every producer, assistant, exec, PA, everyone. And I was partaking in my slight share of the freeflowing of drinks. I kept it light and ladylike with what I call 'bellinis' (hold pinky up when saying this to get the full effect), champagne topped with a splash of cranberry, because honestly, who knows what label of bubbly they're packing back there. For all I know, the champagne could have the soul of Nick Nolte in his DUI picture, but with a splash of juice, it sings like Whitney Houston before Bobby Brown.
Did I ever tell you about the time I woke up with the WORST headache in San Francisco? I was visiting some old friends after I had moved down and was staying at a hotel at the Wharf. Well I wake up to this banging headache, thinking, wow, did I really drink that much? I thought my lush days were done and done. Then after begging the bellman to bring me up some aspirin, and as my bitch of a friend, also hung over, just moaned and made me fetch the pills from the door, I finally jumped in the shower and decided to wash my hair. Yes, the memory is that vivid. Anyhoo, as I am washing, I touch the back of my head as I am scrubbing, and I let out the most volatile scream since Janet Lee in Psycho. I swear I heard wolves holler back at a girl. Now how the hell did the back of my skull be pounced on so bad? I don't remember getting punched. As I explained to my friend sleeping in the bed next to me about my weird head thing, he said, you don't remember? You got into a fight with a door. And then it all came rushing back. That damn door knob was giving me the evil eye and I needed to show it a lesson. After a small tangle with the wine cube at my friend's place, I decided the door needed to be taken down a notch, and boom! Door knob, meet my head, head meet the door knob.
Oh back to my holiday party story, so much debauchery to speak of but I am late for work. So I have to run. I am working the premiere of Charlie Wilson's War, a funny political story about one man who didn't seem so good at his job, doing great things in his position. and it wasn;t in the lateral position either! Although he was known for that. Did that joke make it anywhere? anyone, anyone, bueller?
Did I ever tell you about the time I woke up with the WORST headache in San Francisco? I was visiting some old friends after I had moved down and was staying at a hotel at the Wharf. Well I wake up to this banging headache, thinking, wow, did I really drink that much? I thought my lush days were done and done. Then after begging the bellman to bring me up some aspirin, and as my bitch of a friend, also hung over, just moaned and made me fetch the pills from the door, I finally jumped in the shower and decided to wash my hair. Yes, the memory is that vivid. Anyhoo, as I am washing, I touch the back of my head as I am scrubbing, and I let out the most volatile scream since Janet Lee in Psycho. I swear I heard wolves holler back at a girl. Now how the hell did the back of my skull be pounced on so bad? I don't remember getting punched. As I explained to my friend sleeping in the bed next to me about my weird head thing, he said, you don't remember? You got into a fight with a door. And then it all came rushing back. That damn door knob was giving me the evil eye and I needed to show it a lesson. After a small tangle with the wine cube at my friend's place, I decided the door needed to be taken down a notch, and boom! Door knob, meet my head, head meet the door knob.
Oh back to my holiday party story, so much debauchery to speak of but I am late for work. So I have to run. I am working the premiere of Charlie Wilson's War, a funny political story about one man who didn't seem so good at his job, doing great things in his position. and it wasn;t in the lateral position either! Although he was known for that. Did that joke make it anywhere? anyone, anyone, bueller?
Sunday, December 09, 2007
For some reason, the paint never stopped flowing
I swear to god, this Friday and Saturday I helped my mom paint her bedroom and then trim and touch-ups Saturday. Now this is on top of the weekend from painting hell and an additional weekend of painting more stuff, including the chairs, shrubs, flowers, rails, tiles, nails, cough medicine bottles, aspirin, and anything else that can be primed. GAWD! It has gotten to the sad point where I spend most all my free time at Lowes or Home Depot getting materials during the work week only to look oh so forward to glory of the painting weekend. I've convinced myself all this painting is cardio and can stand in for the gym. No bones about it!
Anyhow, has anyone evcer gotten such a bad case of the cankles your shoes don't fit on your feet any longer? Well it happened to me. If I were in the Family Guy episode where Bill Clinton takes his harem of large ladies out on the town, my canckles would woo Clinton so bad, he'd forget all about those 20 year old interns. So because I can't stand being awake and for about 14 hours on a plane in coach, I decided to take matters in my own hands and take a sleeping pill to make them hours just fly away. And fly they did, but as they flew, they somehow inserted about 10 gallons of water into my ankles. This is how it happened. I wake up after sleeping for a good 6-7 hours. I try and insert my 'hmmm my ankles look a little puffy and unusual' feet into my sandles. Let's just say that I wasn't able to shove my feet into my sandles to make it to the bathroom. Even with grease, these whales would not have made it into these shoes. So what do I do? I end up going to the bathroom in socks - no hard soles. And the first thing I do when I get into the bathroom? Look for sprinkles, and I ain't talking about cupcakes.
So Thailand was amazing. What did I do for the wonderous three days? Well the most important thing to know is once I found out that massages are all of $6, I got as many as I possibly could. And I scored 4 of them! bravo Chi-Lan. Ok, so we shot for the first two days non-stop, talking about all the fun things Thailand had to offer, then off to Ko Pha Ngan for the Full Moon Party (insert drum and bass music here). And that party was sooo great! I didn't get to enjoy much of it honestly because I had to work - a lot - but I did get enough time to dance with some guys I met that are from Las Vegas, explore some of the drink stands and walk down the beach. Great! Can I just say that I love the fact that as kids on the beach, we play non-stop with pails. Well at the biggest beach party in the world in Thailand, adults drink their juice out of the pails. How crazy is it to see all these adults, a few of whom are shirtless (thank you big guy in the sky), carrying around little alcoholic buckets with colorfull bendy straws. And there was even this one Irish lad who saw the simple problem of holding these little pails and walking, not being able to easily being able to sip, so he connected 5 bendy straws to be able to walk and lounge but always have the straw right in tongue reach. I guess bending the elbow to bring the bucket o' alcohol would be too much work.
And now I can get down to business. Baja Fresh. Now I am a huge fan of Mexican food, and really do like to eat Baja even if it isn't real Mexican. But hey, it's good. Or at least I thought. Baja, you bitch. you have wronged the wrong girl. so I have eaten twice at Baja recently, ready to partake in the fine dining that is adulterated mexican in california. Little did I realize that I would be paying for the solidified diareehea (yes I am a word smith) that is coming from my once loved chain restaurant. Now I know that this has all been 'to-go' orders but still. I ordered a tostada without chicken, because, well I don't eat meat. So what do I get? i get a tostada, and no, I didn't add chicken. What do I get instead? I get a tostada, but what are those little bits of white thready sh*%? Wow, chicken. And all the wonderful Baja dude did was slap some chicken into the dish, realize it isn't supposed to have chicken and like a responsible and sensible man, the just takes the chicken off. Great dude. Thanks ot you and your mom for raising you. I can see her efforts were not wasted on just a bag of skin. So last week I decide to give my old Baja another go at winning back my heart with an order of my usual salad and what do I get? Well as a friend who saw my salad said, 'what the f*ck is that? There's only lettuce.' Yup, my salad only had lettuce. I am not sure what happened to the beans, rice, cheese, dressing, etc., but I did specifically taste teh bitterness of life wielded into the plastic container by a short order cook that really hates the world who can't order meat thrown haphazardly into a tortilla. That's it. I don't want to live in a world where I can't get a good tostada. But then again, I think I should just stop going to Baja Fresh. Make me waste $6 once Baja, shame on you, make me waste $12, shame on me. You guys been feeling all that rain? It's god crying because Baja sucks so bad.
Anyhow, has anyone evcer gotten such a bad case of the cankles your shoes don't fit on your feet any longer? Well it happened to me. If I were in the Family Guy episode where Bill Clinton takes his harem of large ladies out on the town, my canckles would woo Clinton so bad, he'd forget all about those 20 year old interns. So because I can't stand being awake and for about 14 hours on a plane in coach, I decided to take matters in my own hands and take a sleeping pill to make them hours just fly away. And fly they did, but as they flew, they somehow inserted about 10 gallons of water into my ankles. This is how it happened. I wake up after sleeping for a good 6-7 hours. I try and insert my 'hmmm my ankles look a little puffy and unusual' feet into my sandles. Let's just say that I wasn't able to shove my feet into my sandles to make it to the bathroom. Even with grease, these whales would not have made it into these shoes. So what do I do? I end up going to the bathroom in socks - no hard soles. And the first thing I do when I get into the bathroom? Look for sprinkles, and I ain't talking about cupcakes.
So Thailand was amazing. What did I do for the wonderous three days? Well the most important thing to know is once I found out that massages are all of $6, I got as many as I possibly could. And I scored 4 of them! bravo Chi-Lan. Ok, so we shot for the first two days non-stop, talking about all the fun things Thailand had to offer, then off to Ko Pha Ngan for the Full Moon Party (insert drum and bass music here). And that party was sooo great! I didn't get to enjoy much of it honestly because I had to work - a lot - but I did get enough time to dance with some guys I met that are from Las Vegas, explore some of the drink stands and walk down the beach. Great! Can I just say that I love the fact that as kids on the beach, we play non-stop with pails. Well at the biggest beach party in the world in Thailand, adults drink their juice out of the pails. How crazy is it to see all these adults, a few of whom are shirtless (thank you big guy in the sky), carrying around little alcoholic buckets with colorfull bendy straws. And there was even this one Irish lad who saw the simple problem of holding these little pails and walking, not being able to easily being able to sip, so he connected 5 bendy straws to be able to walk and lounge but always have the straw right in tongue reach. I guess bending the elbow to bring the bucket o' alcohol would be too much work.
And now I can get down to business. Baja Fresh. Now I am a huge fan of Mexican food, and really do like to eat Baja even if it isn't real Mexican. But hey, it's good. Or at least I thought. Baja, you bitch. you have wronged the wrong girl. so I have eaten twice at Baja recently, ready to partake in the fine dining that is adulterated mexican in california. Little did I realize that I would be paying for the solidified diareehea (yes I am a word smith) that is coming from my once loved chain restaurant. Now I know that this has all been 'to-go' orders but still. I ordered a tostada without chicken, because, well I don't eat meat. So what do I get? i get a tostada, and no, I didn't add chicken. What do I get instead? I get a tostada, but what are those little bits of white thready sh*%? Wow, chicken. And all the wonderful Baja dude did was slap some chicken into the dish, realize it isn't supposed to have chicken and like a responsible and sensible man, the just takes the chicken off. Great dude. Thanks ot you and your mom for raising you. I can see her efforts were not wasted on just a bag of skin. So last week I decide to give my old Baja another go at winning back my heart with an order of my usual salad and what do I get? Well as a friend who saw my salad said, 'what the f*ck is that? There's only lettuce.' Yup, my salad only had lettuce. I am not sure what happened to the beans, rice, cheese, dressing, etc., but I did specifically taste teh bitterness of life wielded into the plastic container by a short order cook that really hates the world who can't order meat thrown haphazardly into a tortilla. That's it. I don't want to live in a world where I can't get a good tostada. But then again, I think I should just stop going to Baja Fresh. Make me waste $6 once Baja, shame on you, make me waste $12, shame on me. You guys been feeling all that rain? It's god crying because Baja sucks so bad.
Monday, November 19, 2007
The weekend that must not be named
This weekend was an amazing exercise of a daughter's love for her mom - and improving her mom's house. Yes, this was the weekend my brain had a huge fart when my mom asked, 'so...whacha doin' this weekend?' Response didn't come in time, so my mom continues 'looks like we're painting!'
And we did paint! I spent Friday mainly at Home Depot with the mother unit buying all necessary materials. And this was pretty fun, I have -
bitch! Did that just happen? Can I just say that I never get manicures and that's because I always screw it up? And right after I decide to treat myself and get one, my nail gets stuck underneath a keyboard KEY! WTF? Does this happen to anyone else? gawd!
Where was I? Yes, Home Depot. Oh how I love home improvement stores, I am not sure of the day, but it was such an amazing feeling to walk into Lowe's back in the day, look around and realize, I know where to get almost everything! And theoretically, I can tackle any home project. In practice, that's another story.
So painting of my mom's living room, kitchen, hallway and bathroom was a two-day endeavor that called upon spirits that I have not seen in a long time. Namely my XL YMCA t-shirt from my teen years as a desk clerk. That ugly ass shirt takes me back to days when old guys in their mid to late 40s (remember, I was 16, anyone over 23 was OLD) came into the Y everyday to sweat off their stress. And it got gamey in there after 6 pm, and not in a sexy dorm room gamey either. There was this one guy that was totally ripped and old, always with a beard, red workout shorts, and a tight wife beater type workout tank. And everyday he came in, we'd have to stop rocking out to whatever station I wanted to listen to and make me switch to the oldies station. Wow, sweatin' to the oldies has morphed into a lifestyle that transcends curly-haired freaks. But I have to admit, after listening to so many oldies, I do switch to those stations pretty frequently while in the car. God works in strange ways.
My dad, mom, sister, brother and I joined forces to tackle this painting project that took a lot more brute strength than I expected. Now let it be known that I work out fairly frequently, but nothing prepared my body, equipped with the upper arm-strength of a small bird, for all this waving up and down of a paint roller. Ralph Machio would have been a world class fighter had he come over this weekend. That much I know.
We painted everyday for about 9 hours daily and quit when the light went away. At this point, my brother was calling for my mom to head to Home Depot and hire some day workers to finish the rest of the project. But he and I know my mom don't play that. She has 3 kids, and I am sure in her opinion, all those hours of labor are more than enough payment for a few measly days of painting. So my sister bought dinner too. I hope we're even.
Now I am sitting on the couch with my dog, watching 'Big Idea with Donny Deutsch'. Why? Well because somehow I came down with a weird stomach pain thing that I cannot get over, so I decided to take it easy. Maybe I will take a couple miles walk. This is also the part of the year I love, when the air gets a little chilly, crisp, a brisk 61 degrees. That’s right. Sixty-one degrees. And that is cold to me. Sure I’ll need to suit up appropriately, like with a fleece, scarf and long pants, but hey, I am a trooper. My dog, my walking partner, is not. He will fight me and fight me and fight me. Running under that table, into his kennel, anywhere he can run and hide to escape from his outside sweater and a walk that will chill his itty-bitty organs to the cellular level! Yes!
And even though I am not feeling so hot in the belly arena, I am dreaming of pie. Pie. Pie!!!!
PS. Headed to Thailand over thanksgiving for CW NOW. I am just staying in Ko Samui and hitting up the Full Moon Party. Woohoo! Get ready for some crazy stories!
And we did paint! I spent Friday mainly at Home Depot with the mother unit buying all necessary materials. And this was pretty fun, I have -
bitch! Did that just happen? Can I just say that I never get manicures and that's because I always screw it up? And right after I decide to treat myself and get one, my nail gets stuck underneath a keyboard KEY! WTF? Does this happen to anyone else? gawd!
Where was I? Yes, Home Depot. Oh how I love home improvement stores, I am not sure of the day, but it was such an amazing feeling to walk into Lowe's back in the day, look around and realize, I know where to get almost everything! And theoretically, I can tackle any home project. In practice, that's another story.
So painting of my mom's living room, kitchen, hallway and bathroom was a two-day endeavor that called upon spirits that I have not seen in a long time. Namely my XL YMCA t-shirt from my teen years as a desk clerk. That ugly ass shirt takes me back to days when old guys in their mid to late 40s (remember, I was 16, anyone over 23 was OLD) came into the Y everyday to sweat off their stress. And it got gamey in there after 6 pm, and not in a sexy dorm room gamey either. There was this one guy that was totally ripped and old, always with a beard, red workout shorts, and a tight wife beater type workout tank. And everyday he came in, we'd have to stop rocking out to whatever station I wanted to listen to and make me switch to the oldies station. Wow, sweatin' to the oldies has morphed into a lifestyle that transcends curly-haired freaks. But I have to admit, after listening to so many oldies, I do switch to those stations pretty frequently while in the car. God works in strange ways.
My dad, mom, sister, brother and I joined forces to tackle this painting project that took a lot more brute strength than I expected. Now let it be known that I work out fairly frequently, but nothing prepared my body, equipped with the upper arm-strength of a small bird, for all this waving up and down of a paint roller. Ralph Machio would have been a world class fighter had he come over this weekend. That much I know.
We painted everyday for about 9 hours daily and quit when the light went away. At this point, my brother was calling for my mom to head to Home Depot and hire some day workers to finish the rest of the project. But he and I know my mom don't play that. She has 3 kids, and I am sure in her opinion, all those hours of labor are more than enough payment for a few measly days of painting. So my sister bought dinner too. I hope we're even.
Now I am sitting on the couch with my dog, watching 'Big Idea with Donny Deutsch'. Why? Well because somehow I came down with a weird stomach pain thing that I cannot get over, so I decided to take it easy. Maybe I will take a couple miles walk. This is also the part of the year I love, when the air gets a little chilly, crisp, a brisk 61 degrees. That’s right. Sixty-one degrees. And that is cold to me. Sure I’ll need to suit up appropriately, like with a fleece, scarf and long pants, but hey, I am a trooper. My dog, my walking partner, is not. He will fight me and fight me and fight me. Running under that table, into his kennel, anywhere he can run and hide to escape from his outside sweater and a walk that will chill his itty-bitty organs to the cellular level! Yes!
And even though I am not feeling so hot in the belly arena, I am dreaming of pie. Pie. Pie!!!!
PS. Headed to Thailand over thanksgiving for CW NOW. I am just staying in Ko Samui and hitting up the Full Moon Party. Woohoo! Get ready for some crazy stories!
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Parkour
So....did anyone actually see my segment on Costa Rica on CW NOW? Otherwise, check out the online version. And let me know what you think.
Ok so my next little adventure involves this crazy new fitness craze (as we're calling it) Parkour. Now many of you may know what it is, and many of you may not. Parkour is the sibling to Free Running, which is to move as smoothly and fluidly as possible past all obstacles...Parkour is a little different. It deals more with moving as quickly and efficiently as possible from point A to B. That means instead of creating a beatuiful seamless fluid movement, Parkour makes you jump, vault, run and leap over obstacles so you can catch that bus!
It started in Europe and now is making a huge splash especially among the females in the emerald city, Seattle. So I went up to Seattle to kick some Parkour ass. And let me tell you, as much as I practiced rolling, landing, vaulting, etc., all those things made me incredibly sore and tired. And as simple as each activity looks on TV, it ain't folks. And did I mention how i love that in most of the world, people call this Parkour, my friends and I in Los Angeles just call it running from the cops. Too true a look into my personal life? Hmmmm...
I love the girl I met...she is spearheading the Parkour movement in Seattle, Janine Cundy. She's young, hip, and makes huge blueberry pancake breakfasts for up to 50 girls who go and train on the weekends. She took me out to the odd yet gorgeous Gas Works Park in Seattle to show me the ropes. I, a journalist of questionable ground, think to myself, huh 'show me the ropes' means she'll perform some of the movements and I will take it in, like a reporter. Well no, I'm not getting off that easy. Being a scaredy-cat daredevil aka. totally chicken shit adventurer, I decide I really want to try parkour. She starts me off with landings. Sure. totally rock that. Then rolls. Ok, how? Just roll onto your neck, throw your body over as you reach for the sun. Wha????? You want me to roll and break my neck while I reach for the sky and say hello to the sun? why do I always have to make the first move with the sun? why can't he step up and be a man? GAWD, the single life is so hard.
Anyhow, after finally rolling on my neck and realizing I am not made of glass, I start rolling like a crazy woman all over the grass, unaware that the patch of greenery we chose is also the choice green for geese to come and excrete all that delicious fecal matter. Woot. Parkour is already starting to be great!
Then we get to vaulting. And I swear to god, I vaulted over a cement divider that is about 10 inches wide and hip high about 89 times - and only caught air once. The vault plan? Well, as Janine so kindly explains, just jump up and take your legs over your body. To give you more momentum to get your body weight over the divider, 'aim your face for the ground'. Oh, is that all it is? Aim my face at the ground? easy breezy. My response? 'you want me to aim my money-maker at the what?!'. Janine found this entertaining. She also asked me to join her as she jumped over a second story stairwell and slid down a 10 foot wall. She demos and says, 'now you go.' Huh. What did I say? 'I'm totally good. You slide, I'll just use the stairs. That works. Parkour for Chi-Lan!
All in all, Parkour is a huge mind-game as well as physical play, IMHO. You have to remember how you used to play as a kid, remember what it felt like to try things because you are invincible, and realize that your body can do things that it hasn't done if you try. And as sore as I ended up being the next day, there are many a rail that I pass daily thinking 'Man, I can totally just jump over that.' I have to admit, I am hooked. And I will continue to aim my face at the floor. One question - why can't parkour involve aiming your ass at the floor instead? doesn't that seem more reasonable? Go ahead - discuss.
watch the segment on CW NOW Sunday at 7 on the CW.
Ok so my next little adventure involves this crazy new fitness craze (as we're calling it) Parkour. Now many of you may know what it is, and many of you may not. Parkour is the sibling to Free Running, which is to move as smoothly and fluidly as possible past all obstacles...Parkour is a little different. It deals more with moving as quickly and efficiently as possible from point A to B. That means instead of creating a beatuiful seamless fluid movement, Parkour makes you jump, vault, run and leap over obstacles so you can catch that bus!
It started in Europe and now is making a huge splash especially among the females in the emerald city, Seattle. So I went up to Seattle to kick some Parkour ass. And let me tell you, as much as I practiced rolling, landing, vaulting, etc., all those things made me incredibly sore and tired. And as simple as each activity looks on TV, it ain't folks. And did I mention how i love that in most of the world, people call this Parkour, my friends and I in Los Angeles just call it running from the cops. Too true a look into my personal life? Hmmmm...
I love the girl I met...she is spearheading the Parkour movement in Seattle, Janine Cundy. She's young, hip, and makes huge blueberry pancake breakfasts for up to 50 girls who go and train on the weekends. She took me out to the odd yet gorgeous Gas Works Park in Seattle to show me the ropes. I, a journalist of questionable ground, think to myself, huh 'show me the ropes' means she'll perform some of the movements and I will take it in, like a reporter. Well no, I'm not getting off that easy. Being a scaredy-cat daredevil aka. totally chicken shit adventurer, I decide I really want to try parkour. She starts me off with landings. Sure. totally rock that. Then rolls. Ok, how? Just roll onto your neck, throw your body over as you reach for the sun. Wha????? You want me to roll and break my neck while I reach for the sky and say hello to the sun? why do I always have to make the first move with the sun? why can't he step up and be a man? GAWD, the single life is so hard.
Anyhow, after finally rolling on my neck and realizing I am not made of glass, I start rolling like a crazy woman all over the grass, unaware that the patch of greenery we chose is also the choice green for geese to come and excrete all that delicious fecal matter. Woot. Parkour is already starting to be great!
Then we get to vaulting. And I swear to god, I vaulted over a cement divider that is about 10 inches wide and hip high about 89 times - and only caught air once. The vault plan? Well, as Janine so kindly explains, just jump up and take your legs over your body. To give you more momentum to get your body weight over the divider, 'aim your face for the ground'. Oh, is that all it is? Aim my face at the ground? easy breezy. My response? 'you want me to aim my money-maker at the what?!'. Janine found this entertaining. She also asked me to join her as she jumped over a second story stairwell and slid down a 10 foot wall. She demos and says, 'now you go.' Huh. What did I say? 'I'm totally good. You slide, I'll just use the stairs. That works. Parkour for Chi-Lan!
All in all, Parkour is a huge mind-game as well as physical play, IMHO. You have to remember how you used to play as a kid, remember what it felt like to try things because you are invincible, and realize that your body can do things that it hasn't done if you try. And as sore as I ended up being the next day, there are many a rail that I pass daily thinking 'Man, I can totally just jump over that.' I have to admit, I am hooked. And I will continue to aim my face at the floor. One question - why can't parkour involve aiming your ass at the floor instead? doesn't that seem more reasonable? Go ahead - discuss.
watch the segment on CW NOW Sunday at 7 on the CW.
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