Do these yoga pants give me camel toe?

My mom came to town this weekend from Houston, Texas. Other than having to remind her repeatedly not to blow cigarette smoke from her Camel lights into the faces of passing Coloradans, who were either biking 70 miles or casually running a marathon, we had a great time.

But after three full days of hanging out with anyone, especially someone who needs a smoke break every eight minutes and doesn’t drink but refuses to be your DD because she “doesn’t see well at night”, thus rendering her sobriety useless, I needed some me time. I crawled home from the airport through rush hour traffic and headed out for a yin yoga class.

If you’ve ever taken yin yoga you’ll know that it’s a hybrid between a lazy stretching class and the hardest fucking thing you’ve ever done, because while the poses are simple and easy, you hold each of them for up to five minutes. Having eaten my own weight in tacos and cupcakes over the past three days though (cause when someone comes to town it’s a holiday), I thought that it would be better to attempt a yin yoga class than put in an appearance at my usual heated vinyasa class and proceed to vomit taco on the girl next to me before heaving myself into child’s pose and farting for the next half hour.

I’ve been trying lately to stay in the present moment a bit more because apparently that’s what white, middle class women in their 30’s do in the United States. I have a lot of important stuff to ponder though, like what s’more works best for the fall season and why that bitch at Starbucks gave me the stink eye just because I asked her what forty-seven cents would buy me and do they take all pennies. Still though, the present moment represents a currently unattainable but potentially calming place for me so why not give it a try.

I worked my absolute hardest to get my yin on but a mere fifteen minutes into class I was already pondering whether or not my husband had changed the porch light and if Project Runway streamed to Hulu yet, because I really needed to find out if that bitch Alexandria got kicked off the show. Additionally the instructor kept using the phrase “take another breath and relax into your most authentic self”. This made me want to find other opportunities for the phrase.

Me to my mother when she needs a smoke break. “Mom why don’t you just take another breath and relax into your most authentic self.”

Me to my four-year old goddaughter when she’s having a tantrum. “Mia you should really take another breath and relax into your most authentic self.”

Me to the server at Starbucks. “Lady if you could just take another breath, relax into your most authentic self, and make me a god damned coffee.”

I picture all of these people including my goddaughter rightfully responding with a big fuck you.

I was just about to mentally tell my eighty-nine year old WWII veteran grandfather to relax into his most authentic self when the class suddenly ended. Where had my sense of presence gone? Where was my stay in the moment?

When my instructor asked me how I liked the session I responded, “Well I don’t know if I found the present moment but I guess I really did relax into my most authentic self.”

Dark Chocolate Orange S’more

–       Two squares of dark chocolate

–       Marshmallow

–       One can of Mandarin Oranges

–       Graham Cracker

Place your dark chocolate on ½ of a graham cracker. If possible, melt your chocolate slightly in the microwave or by placing the graham cracker beside your campfire. Create a small hole in the marshmallow and shove one small mandarin orange inside. This helps to infuse the marshmallow with orange flavor. Skewer your marshmallow in a diagonal direction (to hold the orange) and toast, or microwave. Place the marshmallow on top of your dark chocolate graham cracker, add four to five additional mandarin oranges, and top with the other ½ graham cracker. Enjoy! Dark Chocolate Orange S'more

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2 responses to “Do these yoga pants give me camel toe?

  1. lol, you post made me laugh. I’ll just go and take another breath and relax into my most authentic self. Whatever that means!?

  2. They are not Camel Lights, they are Smokin’ Joe’s. In defense of all crazy mothers, all I can say is “We were sane before we had you.” If you think I’m crazy now, wait until I quit smoking. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

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