Bikram yoga or death by a thousand degrees

OK, only about 105 degrees. I have now attended two Bikram yoga classes - suggested to me by a couple of people who swear by the heat, humidity and regimented routine of 26 poses bracketed by terrifying breathing exercises. I think I like it, or at least at this distance (four hours out) I like it. The room smells bad. I suppose there really is nothing to be done when a space is used day in and day out to contain straining, sweating humanity. I knew it wouldn't be fresh, but it really is something to be reckoned with. Then there is the heat. I consider not having had to run out before the end of the 90 minutes a major triumph. Of course, I have to find my triumphs somewhere because the class is a very rude reminder that I am not one of the flexible members of the human race. It is kind of humbling to actually be in a room with 30 or so people and really be the worst one there. This is not hyperbole and I have no illusions about measuring myself against the lithe, agile, willow people in the front row or the solid, tattooed vegan types, but I have never actually been the worst at something in a group setting (except maybe ballroom dancing). I am absolutely the worst. There are whole poses that I cannot even begin. This is largely due to my back problems since the tubing incident of last spring, but having short hamstrings and other rigid bits doesn't help. So we are all lying on our tummies and we are supposed to grasp our ankles with our hands so that we are like boats. the teacher had to come over and suggest I just try to grasp one side and switch off. I could almost manage that.

Work funny

We had a departmental meeting a couple of weeks ago. Much dreaded because of a terrifying disconnect between the realities of global financial collapse and our faculty's view that this somehow shouldn't impact their mission to write esoteric things, teach boutique courses, and generally come and go as they please. Add to this the prospect of considering a temporary halt to recruiting PhD students (for reasons which will be exemplified below) in the face of some faculty who cling to the idea of being a doctoral granting department no matter what that looks like in practice. In the end the anticipated fireworks didn't go off; perhaps there had been enough preparatory small group conversations that people had begun to internalize the idea that it is, in fact, not possible to proceed with business as usual when you've just learned that 9-12% of your state appropriated funds will be permanently reappropriated by July 1st. But the really choice meeting moments had to do with our director of graduate studies reporting on the actuality of the PhD students we currently have. There was really not much to say when confronted with such facts as one post comps student who has been maintaining current registration (which you do by paying for 3 credits of tuition every semester) for SEVENTEEN years. As the DGS deadpannedly remarked, "Aside from the ethical question of how we let someone languish, but pony up cash, to such an extent?... four of the five committee members NO LONGER WORK HERE, and the course work is so far in the past that the discipline has surely moved on so what sort of dissertation would the person possibly be writing... The full DGS report was peppered by exclamations of "WHAT?" and the like from the faculty. Even the most staunch defenders of the PhD programs had the good sense to look dutifully troubled by the state of disarray.