we did have a close call in the farting department...

Today, I did something for the first time. I took a yoga class. And, going in, I had thought for sure it would be classic fish out of water comedy. And, other than an awkward moment or two with the receptionist (yogi-ceptionist? I'm sure she has some other title), it really was okay. No falling down. No farting loudly in the middle of class. No strange poses my body refused to do. I did reluctantly join in the rounds of oms (ohms?) and there was a stretch or two that was slightly out of my range, but overall it felt natural, relaxing, and energizing. I even got into the breathing in the end, where we felt our breath wash our hearts to reveal our true selves (or something). I bought it. I am not about to jump into the deep end, but I can definitely see the appeal. Maybe I’ll go again this week.

Sometimes, I am surprised by how much I am able to buy into things. I don’t read Twilight or watch Lost or listen to Taylor Swift. Typically, America has one agenda and I have another. Even when we are watching the same thing, America and I must be watching different things (David Cook? Really?). But then there are times when I just jump in headfirst. For a long time I was morally against any sort of phone that didn’t come free with my plan. Then, one day, I bought myself a blackberry. Totally on a whim. Just up and bought it. And I love it. I love love love it. I can’t imagine my life without it.

The blackberry is my best example of a thing I hated that turned to thing I love. It is like a romantic comedy. It started out as that too uptight new coworker to my laidback, Oreo cookie loving self. And then, we were forced to work on some project together or were snowed in a cabin or something. And now we’re in love. Insane oddball nonsense love.

In any case, the next thing on the horizon is a pair of Uggs. Right? Right? What is it, 2004? Am I going to wear them with my pleated mini and my Juicy Couture sweatshirt? Don a trucker cap? Drink a bottle of vitamin water? Sometimes I arrive to the party late enough to try to pretend I wasn’t protesting outside earlier. What? That wasn’t me. That must have been that other guy….

So yeah, I’m slowly becoming a yoga-doing, blackberry-using, ugg-wearing … what is the noun for that? I am pretty sure it is douche bag. Oh well. At least I don’t listen to Taylor Swift.