BRIMSG and I were having a slumber party the other day, braiding each others' hairs and drinking vodka, when she shared that she's been a little sad lately. It might have stemmed from some trouble at work, or some excessively annoying mainpage trolls, or from a diet too heavy in processed foods - I didn't really stop to ask questions, because anyone named after Burt Reynolds should really just suck it up.
So after I slapped her across the face, shouted, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" and made her drink flaming rum shots, we call the slumber party short and went about our regular, daily lives.
Some of you know that my regular, daily life involves a lot of yoga. We're having a 30-day challenge, in which you go to 30 classes in 30 days. It's a huge drag and I hurt everywhere, but whatcha gonna do.
So I'm at this yoga class, thinking about nothing in particular (or how my hamstrings burned in very, very particular), when the yoga instructor says what sounds like, "We're going to have an arm balance parade!"
It sounded like "arm balance parade" because when she said it, everyone in the class was in this pose:
So I yelled out, "WHAT'S AN ARM-BALANCE PARADE?" because I'm a classy mother-fucker. The yoga instructor got the giggles and decided we would, indeed, have an arm balance parade. We each took turns sashaying to the front of the yoga room and demonstrating our favorite arm balance.
The chick with the obscenely awesome biceps called "eka poda variation":
It's hard because of balance, and because you have to support the entire weight of your body on your hands. Plus, I don't know if you've ever tried to put your legs to one side while keeping your hips level and your feet flexed, but there are a series of issues there. The fact that this girl can cross her ankles just makes me hate her a little, in a very non-yogi way.
The dude who never takes a shower declared he would do the one we call grasshopper, even though I don't think that's the real name:
Do I need to break down the hard parts of this one for you? No? Good. Because gravity. Broken noses. KNEES ON YOUR FREAKING ELBOWS.
The lady who used to join me in the can't-do-armbalances club called out "bakasana!" which means "crow pose" and tossed out this little gem:
She might not have crossed her ankles, but still. We both have big ol' booties and big ol' booties don't like to leave the ground if big ol' booties can help it. I don't know how she did it. I'm proud and/or a little jealous.
GUIZE. They'd obviously taken all the good ones. (Plus, let's be real. I can only arm balance a little.) So I thought to myself: what would GroupThink do? And that's when it came to me. I did the only thing a real GroupThinker could do. I used my big, outdoor voice to call out:
"BURT REYNOLDS!" and promptly imitated this classic pose:
Except I wore clothes and my yoga mat isn't furry. Duh. There was much rejoicing, everyone laughed, and I didn't have to worry about falling on my face.
And that, my friends, is the story of how Burt followed me to yoga.