16. Float in a sensory deprivation tank

I'm going to write this whole post without mentioning the movie Altered States.

Damn. I already failed.

Last week I spent an hour and a half floating on an epsom salt solution, closed inside a dark, quiet tank. Reminiscent of a space pod, the tank was about eight or so feet long and maybe four feet wide. It was just tall enough in there to sit up and too dark for me to see my hand two inches in front of my face.

Bzew! Bzew! Bzew! (Those are space laser sounds)

I wouldn't call myself claustrophobic, but I definitely got a little anxious thinking about closing myself in there for almost two hours. I've had my mild claustro moments in the past: in a tiny bunk under the deck of a sailboat, in a small tent in the middle of the night when I forgot where I was, and one empathetic episode while watching a movie in which someone was buried alive.

Anxiety!

No, I was not 100% digging the idea of climbing into that tank.

But, Project 100 is all about trying things that make me a little uncomfortable. And I've been wanting to see what the hype is about for awhile.

I made an appointment two weeks ahead of time; they were booked out solid! If popularity is any measure of how great the float would be, I had lots to look forward to. I was met by a delightful woman when I arrived. She took a full ten minutes to explain everything and answer all of my questions. She said that the tanks are actually used as treatment for people who suffer from claustrophobia. She told me that they are really comforting once you're in there.

So I climbed in with the little optional neck pillow, closed the door, and flipped around a little in the dark. On my stomach. On my back. With pillow. Without pillow. Damn! Water in my ears! But I came to favor reclining on my back with no pillow. The water just holds you. It embraces you. "I'm back inside my mom's womb," I thought. And I really thought it! I felt safe. I missed my mom. I thought about being a child and remembered what it felt like to surrender your care completely to someone else. I remembered when I didn't know how shitty the world could be and when it was all okay because my mom was 100% on my side.

Peace.

But I'm going to stop short of saying I had an amazing time. I was kinda uncomfortable the whole time I was in that thing. I couldn't breathe through my nose (allergies) and the back of my neck wouldn't relax, no matter what I did. And I had to pee. Then I got some of the salt water in my eyes (advice: don't do that!). And it went on like this. My neck hurt, my eyes burned, and I couldn't breath. I was in and out of the pod a couple times and finally started to calm down and drift a little when the music turned on. My time was up!

But! I was not claustrophobic in the slightest. Oddly, the pod felt vast once I was floating in it.

When I left, there was a man at the front desk. He said, "how was your float?"

I told him honestly, but not in a complain-y way. And he assured me that my experience is common with first time floaters. He offered my 50% off my next visit and urged me to give it one more try. I probably will. I really want to like this and I don't think I quite mastered it enough to come to a fair verdict.

And in the end, it was worth it for those few moments of true security. It is hard to explain, but nothing else in the world matters when you are floating.

15. Buy chicken, cook chicken, eat chicken

When I was 17 I became a vegetarian. At first I was the pasta, cheese sandwiches, and Twix kind of vegetarian. It wasn't exactly healthy, but converting a midwestern diet to vegetarian means that you either substitute a veggie burger where the meat goes, or just take the meat out. It's a start, but it leads to some strange meals. A lot of my meals were all shades of white: bun, cheese, noodles, potatoes, iceberg. When I got to college I started learning about avocado, hummus, and Indian food, and things really got cooking. All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good decision for me. It's kept me lean and healthy, and it's a good, blanket way to be socially responsible without trying too hard.

Potatoes and cheese, potatoes and cheese, POTATOES AND CHEESE!!

But I'm 35 now; I've been a vegetarian for 18 years. More than half of my life! And I've been considering: being a vegetarian isn't a choice I make every day or every meal anymore. I just get up and AM a vegetarian. I have been letting a 17-year-old decide how I eat. Who here would let a teenager from the midwest make that decision for you?

Vegetarian 4-EVA, kay?

So I had a simple thought: I can take that control back and decide for every meal what I'm going to eat as a 35 year-old woman with a hell of a lot more information than I had when I was 17.

Last week, I talked to my mom on the phone and I asked her how to cook chicken breasts. Having that basic midwestern palate that she does, she just said, "I just throw it in a casserole dish with some cauliflower and potatoes and garlic and bake it for an hour."

"You don't have to wash it or anything first?"

"Not unless it's slimy."

So I walked up the street to the Whole Foods, paid for some organic, happy chicken breasts, and threw them in the oven, mom-style, with sweet potatoes and lemon juice. It was ridiculously easy.

Then I ate it.

Whoa!

14. Attend a Barre3 class

Has anyone ever told you that sharks have to continually swim or else they die? The first time I heard this, I imagined that it had to do something with blood pressure, or maybe they get tired and fall asleep and never wake up because their heart rate drops too much. I have a good imagination. Neither of these things are true.

Most sharks can use one of two methods of breathing. Water comes in through their mouth, flows over the gills where oxygen is absorbed, and flows out through little gill slits. This happens in one of two ways: they either actively suck the water in through their mouths or they swim fast and water flows in naturally. When they aren't swimming, they have to use active breathing. Most do this just fine, but some can't and they die. They die from lack of movement.

I'm not mad at you; I'm just trying to breathe, brah!

People who know me know that I can't stop moving around all the time. I have three jobs that keep me on my feet, I commute by bicycle, and I have a dog that I walk four times a day. You might think that I live this way because I have tons of energy, but you'd be wrong. In reality, it's pretty much exactly the opposite. I have problems with sitting, so I don't do it. I'm the human version of our shark buddy up there. When I sit for too long, my brain stops working. I have to fight to stay awake. I have a hard time connecting my thoughts and firing up my creativity. The more I sit, the closer I am to dead. I don't have enough energy to sit, so I make my own through activity.

Here's me five minutes after I sit down. Looks like Mr. Shark and I are both mouth-breathers.

For this reason, many of my challenges for Project 100 are movement-based. But even though movement is comfortable for me, I've chosen to try things that are a little bit scary to me. I'm not the kind of woman who surfs, or rock climbs, or rides her bike any further than she has to, but I'm going to be by the end of the Project.

This week, I started easy, with a Barre3 class. Sometimes just going somewhere new and breaking your routine can be a little scary, and that was really the point with this challenge. I've been in a rut. I needed to break the monotony of my normal routine, and going to this class did that. Happily, it was also a great class! I was so impressed with the pacing and workout that I fantasized about becoming an instructor. It was a delicious, no-impact, barefoot, internal fire-building workout. I will be back, and maybe I'll try to do a little less mouth-breathing next time.

Revisiting Project 100!

Friends, I love project 100. It's been around two years since I cooked up the idea, started with fervor, then quit because I was overwhelmed. The original plan was to do a new thing EACH DAY and blog about them EACH DAY. So I'd wake up and think, "Oh, shit. I have to do something new today and write about it before I go to work in three hours." And that got to be a lot of work and not a lot of fun-having and adventuring. The spirit of Project 100 was lost.

Jump ahead to now! I'm two years older and reclaiming Project 100 with a whole new set of rules. Which is to say, I've ditched the rules. I am loosening the time frame, which allows for bigger firsts, and I'm choosing those firsts with a bit more thought and intention.

I want to face fears. I want to push boundaries. I want to show myself what I'm capable of and break free from my own ideas of who I am. I'm taking a good hard look at my ambivalence, this feeling of being unsure or blasé about something, and I'm realizing that most of the time my ambivalence is just good old fashioned FEAR in disguise. Fear is something I know how to deal with. When it shows up as "I don't feel like it," or "I don't think I want to do that," it's harder to recognize and conquer. 

I've spent the last week researching, brainstorming, talking, asking, and exploring. And I've come up with a shiny new list of firsts that I'm very excited to approach. And ambivalent. So it's perfect.

What would YOU like to do that you've never tried before?

Thanks for reading,

Eva

13. Love Our Postal Carriers

You know what?  We don't say thanks enough.

For example, our postal carrier walks all over our neighborhood in the hothothot sun and the wetwetwet rain, putting miles on those shoes, fearing dog bites, picking up cans for the annual food drive, decoding incorrect addresses, and carrying that heavy bag full of red Netflix envelopes and porno mags.  We expect our mail to arrive every day, and at approximately the same time each day.  And, sure, I might wave hello when I see my neighborhood carrier on the sidewalk ('specially if he's a hottie), but have I ever stopped to say thanks?  

And I've lately realized that I haven't said thanks because I've been walking around with this latent sense of entitlement that I'm somehow owed mail.  That these people, dammit, are doing their jobs and getting paid, so what else do they need?  Duh, Eva!  Duh!  They need what we all need: acknowledgement, purpose, validity, joy, peace, techno music, and stockpiles of toilet paper in case of the Apocalypse!

But I am thankful for my sweet postal carrier (who I once saw at my local cafe.  And who, upon my introduction, recited my address to me, all the way down to the apartment number and zip code!) and I wanted to give a little gracias.

So I got together with a pal and wrote some little thank you notes!

 Of course I wrote this one!

Do you hate the Val-Pak as much as I do? 

I challenged Frank to include the subject of Rollerbladers in his love note.  Nice work, Frank! 

 $5 Starbucks (I know, I know! Start throwing stones now!  I just wanted it to be something accessible and those damned Starbucks are e'rywhere) gift cards attached to every love note!

We drove all over the neighborhood and deposited the notes in the big blue mailboxes! Yay!

We ended up making about six little love notes and making the world a little nicer place to live.  And I'm going to make a donation to a Colombian coffee farming family to make myself feel better for supporting Starbucks.  

12. MAX Rush Hour Dance Party!

A photo essay...

Brett and Ruby shine in the sunlight, dancing to The Jets

 Eva knocking it out in low-res, baby

Andrea, Jamie, Ruby, and Jane challenge you to a dance off!

Kat gets down while a nearby employee gazes out from her corporate prison wishing she were us.

Our music man, Andrew Ox

Lucie wearing the Sparkle Jacket (a Hobby Horse Original)!

The first ever MAX rush hour dance party proved to be a startling success, despite the many challenges imposed upon us.  Turns out, 8:30am is a little early for a party, and our crew was plagued by oversleep, lack of motivation, and tardiness.  And it also turns out that boom boxes are not welcome in many of Portland's public spaces.  We were repeatedly asked to turn the music off and were even threatened by a cop in Pioneer Square!  Who knew, but "amplified music" is against the rules without a permit.  

Dear fellow citizens of Portland: in what kind of city do we live?  We live in a city in which ya gotta have a permit to get down! A PERMIT! TO GET DOWN!  It's like Orwell's 1984.  No, not really at all.  It's more like Footloose.  And I am Kevin Bacon, only with better hair, sparkles, and fifty percent more bitchin' dance moves.

But, all in all: awesome.

11. Bake a Cheesecake with Jane

Jane's awesome.  This was the first time we hung out and she inspires me.  Plus, the cheesecake was super good, even though it was loaded with dairy products and was gluten-free.

six whole eggs, two egg yolks!

Beating the cream cheese!

Yes!  Two of them!

Bake that shit!

Fresh rhubarb compote, from rhubarb grown in Jane's backyard!