Fucking Yoga: Somebody Farted
And it wasn't me.
Tonight I was able to talk to my yogi about only having a little over a month left at yoga. It seems he's impressed with ... well, I don't know what exactly. My determination to do yoga despite being the fattest person in every class? Whatever it is, it inspired him to tell me that we'll work something out when my 90 days for $90 is over. So yay. Another yay is that I talked with him about how my hands slide from sweat when downward dogging. He said it's the yoga mat - I need to use higher quality mats, and they'll absorb the sweat better. OH! So you're NOT supposed to pick a mat based on which one is the prettiest color then? Uhh, no Peg. Learn something new every day (that you go to yoga).
Know who else learned new things today? The two student teacher yogi chicks at yoga tonight. One was young and smiley and perfectly nice and encouraging. The other, I hated on sight. Aren't you glad to see how open I am to giving people chances? She was old (as old as your mom) and was wearing pants that had embroidery on them. This alone is not why I disliked her. I disliked her because she was aggressive in her reaching out and trying to connect with everyone in the class. To be fair, her behavior probably seemed more aggressive than it really was, because yogiis are always so zen and calming. I liked the guy who taught tonight, even though I didn't like tonight's class. There were three or four brand new people there, so he went much slower than usual, to explain everything. I can't go slowly. I need everything to move at a nice, even pace. Many yoga moves I can do, but I can't hold for five breathes like they want.
The annoying student teacher yogi breathed so loud that she distracted me from the poses. She also did things the wrong way - he'd say to put arms out, but she'd have her arms in prayer position. She also kept trying to get people to look at her and copy the way she was doing things. That wasn't annoying just because she was doing things wrong, but also because she invaded people's space. In yoga, it's all about the fucking breathing. When you invade someone's personal space, you're cutting in on their air, making it hard to do the breathing. Not that I do it, don't get me wrong. But if I wanted to, I'm saying. Whatever. Point is, she rubbed me the wrong way, and I'll be happy when she goes back to wherever she came from.
The fart. I know you're dying to know. Let me just start off by saying, I didn't want to do yoga at first. You know I'm super-quick to laugh at people. Can you imagine how much I'd be dying with laughter if somebody farted at every yoga class? Up until tonight, nobody had ever farted in any yoga class I'd ever taken. You know who it was, don't you? That's right - the student teacher yogi I didn't like. We were doing the move that's not a move at all - sit with your legs crossed, wrists on knees, pointer fingers touching thumbs (pointer represents yourself and the thumb represents the universe, OMMM), and breathe. That's it. You wouldn't think that'd make somebody fart. Repeatedly. But she did.
Somebody (not me) actually tittered - there is simply no other word for it. For the entire time we were supposed to sit like that, each time we breathed out, she did too. And so did her ass. The inside of my lip started bleeding because I was biting it so hard in my attempt to keep from laughing. Shockingly, at the end of class she scurried on out of there pretty quickly. Surprising really, since she struck me as the type to try to drum up conversations with people to impress them with her yoledge.
Tonight I was able to talk to my yogi about only having a little over a month left at yoga. It seems he's impressed with ... well, I don't know what exactly. My determination to do yoga despite being the fattest person in every class? Whatever it is, it inspired him to tell me that we'll work something out when my 90 days for $90 is over. So yay. Another yay is that I talked with him about how my hands slide from sweat when downward dogging. He said it's the yoga mat - I need to use higher quality mats, and they'll absorb the sweat better. OH! So you're NOT supposed to pick a mat based on which one is the prettiest color then? Uhh, no Peg. Learn something new every day (that you go to yoga).
Know who else learned new things today? The two student teacher yogi chicks at yoga tonight. One was young and smiley and perfectly nice and encouraging. The other, I hated on sight. Aren't you glad to see how open I am to giving people chances? She was old (as old as your mom) and was wearing pants that had embroidery on them. This alone is not why I disliked her. I disliked her because she was aggressive in her reaching out and trying to connect with everyone in the class. To be fair, her behavior probably seemed more aggressive than it really was, because yogiis are always so zen and calming. I liked the guy who taught tonight, even though I didn't like tonight's class. There were three or four brand new people there, so he went much slower than usual, to explain everything. I can't go slowly. I need everything to move at a nice, even pace. Many yoga moves I can do, but I can't hold for five breathes like they want.
The annoying student teacher yogi breathed so loud that she distracted me from the poses. She also did things the wrong way - he'd say to put arms out, but she'd have her arms in prayer position. She also kept trying to get people to look at her and copy the way she was doing things. That wasn't annoying just because she was doing things wrong, but also because she invaded people's space. In yoga, it's all about the fucking breathing. When you invade someone's personal space, you're cutting in on their air, making it hard to do the breathing. Not that I do it, don't get me wrong. But if I wanted to, I'm saying. Whatever. Point is, she rubbed me the wrong way, and I'll be happy when she goes back to wherever she came from.
The fart. I know you're dying to know. Let me just start off by saying, I didn't want to do yoga at first. You know I'm super-quick to laugh at people. Can you imagine how much I'd be dying with laughter if somebody farted at every yoga class? Up until tonight, nobody had ever farted in any yoga class I'd ever taken. You know who it was, don't you? That's right - the student teacher yogi I didn't like. We were doing the move that's not a move at all - sit with your legs crossed, wrists on knees, pointer fingers touching thumbs (pointer represents yourself and the thumb represents the universe, OMMM), and breathe. That's it. You wouldn't think that'd make somebody fart. Repeatedly. But she did.
Somebody (not me) actually tittered - there is simply no other word for it. For the entire time we were supposed to sit like that, each time we breathed out, she did too. And so did her ass. The inside of my lip started bleeding because I was biting it so hard in my attempt to keep from laughing. Shockingly, at the end of class she scurried on out of there pretty quickly. Surprising really, since she struck me as the type to try to drum up conversations with people to impress them with her yoledge.
Since I know you're wondering: during tonight's naptime, I thought about the following:
this class is DEFINITELY running late
when I get home it'll be too late to make dinner
you'd think she'd fart during streches that work the stomach muscles if any
is it part of the yoga final when becoming a teacher to learn not to laugh when somebody farts?
Labels: Yoga
posted by Green at 5/16/2007 11:04:00 PM
4 Comments:
This sound like good material for an episode of the Simpsons. If it were still around, Seinfeld could also do it justice
I can totally see this as a Seinfeld episode. Too funny.
I remember in high school when we participated in the physical fitness thing, one person would do sit-ups while another would hold his or her feet. Two girls had an unfortunate problem. One had terrible gas and farted each time she came up, and the other girl got in trouble, first for trying to walk away, and again when she couldn't stop laughing. I almost pulled a muscle trying to do a sit-up and keep from laughing. That was the only good memory I have of PE, but it was worth all the calisthenics.
C'mon, all those contortions help open up body orifices that should stay closed... whattaya expect?
I can't not laugh when someone (else) farts. End of story. It is indeed awkward in yoga class.
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