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9:43 a.m. - 2004-09-28
Yoga and farts.
This is not going to be a gentle entry, so...

I had my first yoga class of the season last night. Its been over a year since I've been to this class since I've had the major attitude problem. So it was hard, it was wonderful, and it was gassy. Yeah, really gassy! As we moved through the poses, up and down and all around, a giant gas bubble moved all over my midsection -- and I kept praying to a God I barely believe in to keep the gas inside and not outside. Downward facing dog was a trip, then we did the boat pose where you lay on your stomach and grab your feet and roll back and forth. Then the gas bubble became many.

Luckily, that was the last pose of the evening, so I went into relaxation with little tiny gas bubbles trying to make their escape, and I was actually fantasizing about my car, and freedom to fart without recrimination.

If you ever need to fart, but can't, yoga is for you.

I'll have to monitor what I eat the day of yoga practice next Monday. Especially since there is a cute guy in class with his daughter and father. Looks single, and very friendly. I'd hate to fart on him and make a bad impression. It just isn't done.


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