[My Favorite Park Slope…] Yoga Class

Image via Bend and Bloom on Facebook

I was very late to jump on the yoga train -- I only started about four years ago. A friend convinced me to try a Bikram class, but after three attempts, I decided the hot room was not for me. I also wasn't crazy about the claustrophobic feeling of being in a packed studio, mat edge to mat edge with smelly strangers. Not my thang, people. I liked the yoga part, though, so I went in search of regular vinayasa flow classes in the neighborhood.

What brought me to Bend and Bloom was the Express class option. I would love to live in a world where I have the time for a class that takes an hour and a half, not counting travel to and from the studio, but that's not the case. Not even on weekends (I have kids, yo). The hour long Express classes at Bend and Bloom are perfect. And if you have kids, there's a 4pm Express class that coincides with a kids class (check the schedule for which age groups are on which days), so you can get your om on while your wee one is learning to down dog next door.  

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Everyone Wish the Food Coop A Happy 40th Birthday

We don't know where this picture is from but if it's yours, we'll give you the credit and take you out for a beer.

What do Jim Parsons, T.R. Knight, Neil Patrick Harris the Food Coop and Monica Lewinski have in common? No not that silly. They all turned 40 this year! 

The Park Slope institution we love to give undo attention to entered its fifth decade last week and let me tell you its members partied their asses hard on Saturday. According to their website the festivities were almost down-right raunchy:

A group of talented Coop chefs will prepare delicious food for sale at the party, and the Coop will provide drinks and free birthday cake for all. Mingle with other Coop members, and enjoy live music and face painting for the kids.  

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ICYMI: Best part of SNL was Girls promo with Tina Fey

Saturday Night Live started its new season this past weekend with Tina Fey as host, and six new cast members on board. By far, the funniest skit of the night was this Girls parody, with newbie Noel Wells killing it with her Hannah Horvath impression. Vanessa Bayer as Shoshannah, Kate McKinnon as Jessa, and Cecily Strong as Marnie, nailed each of the Girls characters, with Tina joining the crew as Blerta, the new Albanian friend, who says things like:

"My ex-boyfriend is buried in shallow grave. On vindy days, the dirt blows off and you can see skull. Oh vy did he have to stare at the mayor?"

The whole skit briliiantly skewers everything there is to hate about Girls. 

Who Gives A Shit?: Best Cold-Killing Soup in the Slope

Have you noticed lately that everyone is coming down with a cold? We've been ridiculously blessed with spectacular fall weather for the past few weeks, but the return to the post Labor Day daily grind seems to have taken its toll. It almost makes you want to wear a surgical mask on your morning commute. 

Of course, if you mention you're fighting something, you will inevitably get advice on how to prevent it from going full blown. One friend told me to take liquid Goldenseal, another swears by echinacea and zinc tablets, while I've been pounding the Ester-C. 

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F***ed By the F Train on a Friday night

Image via Gothamist.comYou may have heard about the F train fiasco that occurred this past Friday night. Over 1,300 commuters were stuck underground for over an hour between the West 4th and Broadway/Lafayette stations. Friend of FIPS Michelle Paul gives us her first-hand experience of the shitstorm:

On Friday night I left work at 6:30 and got on the F train at 57th Street. I planned to exit at Bergen Street, go to Book Court, and then walk home enjoying the autumn evening. Instead I spent two hours underground enjoying the hospitality of the MTA.

A minute or two after the F left West 4th Street, we stopped. No one was particularly surprised. This was not out of the ordinary. I read my book. I eavesdropped on the conversations around me. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone creepy.

Eventually the voice of the conductor came on over the loudspeaker, with a surprisingly specific announcement: There was a broken rail on the track ahead of us, so we had to go back to West 4th. The train had not derailed, they were careful to say, but we couldn't continue on to Brooklyn this way. A ripple of exasperation spread through the car, coupled with preemptive exhaustion, as we all began to realize this would be a longer-than-usual commute.

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