how yoga is kind of making me want to kill myself

This, dear friends, is my yoga teacher. She's oh, a professional model who doesn't drink and likely eats lettuce for dessert. She's also extremely nice and caring, and her perfect night probably doesn't involve a couple Blue Moons and mozzarella sticks. She also probably didn't wake up last Sunday and yell at her parents for not getting bagels and then, in a huff of frustration, decide to make a bag of popcorn and eat it for breakfast instead.

I've never actually met her. See, back in May, I was offered a free yoga fellowship by Yoga Bear, an organization that gives free yoga classes to former cancer patients.

Since May, I've spent about 15 days in the hospital, and then contracted MRSA and had a tooth removed and oh, kicked a glass door, and oh yeah, nearly broke my foot when I was drunk. It's been an eventful few months, health-wise. Add to this my extreme laziness and you get the sad truth that although I could be going to yoga every night for free, I have yet to attend one class.

I know. It's bad. And now, every week, I get an email that asks how I'm feeling and when I think I can come in.

The guilt is getting to me. Especially after I read what she wrote here. Kind of like reading my life story.

But you know what? I'm going to make a change! I'm starting with the woman in the mirror and I'm asking her to change her ways! MJ and Tara have inspired me and I swear it, right here! In print! Next week or the week after that or in a few months, I am going to walk into that yoga class and the new Kelly will begin.

As long as I can have the occasional chicken finger.


  1. You failed to mention that after popcorn for breakfast on Sunday, you had popcorn and a coke for lunch at Target.
    I write this after consuming a huge italian dinner, 4 dove bars, and gushers. Obviously I'm at Grandmas.

  2. Go to Yoga, fool!

  3. dude we got free striptease classes from last year's lupus benefit and we forgot to use them! what a waste.

    hm. i actually just realized that our forgetfulness was a total blessing in disguise, as i just pictured you flailing around in a too tight ensemble gripping the pole with your grubby midget hands, and thrusting your pelvis in time to "I'm a Slave 4 U. "

  4. Gen,
    I'm going to have nightmares tonight. Thanks.

    I chuckled out loud when you said "This is my Yoga teacher," as you clearly do not do Yoga. Then I began thinking about our Yoga class in college and when I got stuck in that god awful position and nearly broke my neck. That was one of the most frightening moments of my life, while you almost peed your pants.

    I hesitated posting that, but then remembered how you bring that up in as many social situations as possible.

    Screw you.

  5. I would rather experience bar culture every day than have to put up with gym culture ever. This bitch needs to lay off the condescension, exclamation points, and phrases such as "awesomely cool people."

    The Huffington Post can be so, so awful.

    To further the use of signs in your blog, I offer another equation:
    Old whiskey drunks/gin bums > obnoxious "health" columnists

  6. When we did yoga during highschool sorry to say you weren't very graceful

  7. silly youre funny

  8. Ck,
    I think you are confused a bit. You don't need to go to yoga classes, no. you need to go to Yoda classes, you will learn the force. you will be able to make the beer leave the firdge and enter your hand without leaving the couch. You will live to be like 500 y/o. You will be able to get a raise without working any harder. Lets face it you are already the same height as Yoda, and same small hands. "hmmm, teach you I will, the ways of the force"