so i finally took a picture of my bottom for poor mr wolf he's been waiting patiently (*ahem*) for some time now.
so anyway i haven't been holding out on him for any reason other than i have trouble taking pictures of my whole ass (hence the blurryblur). not to mention i have what we commonly refer to in the land of the sundae as a "lack-thereof-an-ass". this is why i love those little shorty-short fundies: the way they are cut gives me the illusion of having an ass.
speaking of my posterior, i had it kicked at yoga this morning. that bum you are looking at is a weary post-yoga bum. the teacher warned us that he was feeling particularly energetic today, and that if we couldn't keep up to just keep our own time.
i kept up.
my arms are sore, my ass is sore, my hamstrings are sore and i have a sneaking suspicion that tomorrow my pecs are going to be really sore.
i am currently facing a bit of a yoga centred conundrum. you see, i have (to borrow an expression from an otherwise lacklustre newspaper columnist) a bit of granola in my sushi. which is to say that somewhere inside of me lies dormant a small hippy. she doesn't usually speak much - just pipes up now and again to encourage me to drink water not pop, to talk me into taking my own shopping bags to the market, and to sign up for yoga classes.
today she woke up and started campaigning for us.. i mean ME.. to go on a weekend yoga retreat at the beginning of june. "it'll be fun!" she says. "so relaxing!" needless to say this is not sitting well with my rockstar side. "yoga retreat?" she scoffs. "fuck that shit! lets go do vodka shots off a male stripper. or a female stripper - yeah! even better!"
they've been arguing back and forth about it all afternoon. i'm, frankly, quite interested to see who's gonna win out in the end.
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