Spamalot (4777-4786)

Here’s the deal. I am hard to embarrass. Rather, I put myself in embarrassing situations in order to avoid letting someone else do the honors.

Like today, for instance.

I wore a Lululemon outfit at the last POLEder Boulder which Harmy thought was pretty amusing. It was billed as a “Hot Yoga” outfit but I saw it and thought, “No way would I ever wear that to yoga, but pole dancing? Hell yeah!”

Totally not me.

Totally not me.

I used to enjoy a yoga class at my old gym, but since they don’t give a shit about their members being harassed by employees, I quit. But I miss my yoga instructor, Rod, because he is hysterically funny and teaches a great class.

Harmy told me that Rod had been asking about me and invited me to come to his class as her guest. I can’t say that I enjoy going back there. It is tantamount to returning to the school where you were relentlessly bullied by some dickhead. But whatever, I’m just there for the laughs.

You are a slutty pole dancer!

Hey everyone! Did you know that Viv is a stripper, I mean “instructor’?

So I dutifully showed up in my pole dancing, I mean “hawt” yoga outfit and had a good old time. The ladies got a good laugh at my expense and I enjoyed disrupting the class by pointing out the muffin-top enhancing qualities of my outfit.

I made a point of saying I bought it for pole dancing, not yoga, a point that didn’t seem to stick.

Me and Harmy. I'm about 15 pounds too heavy to wear this thing, but really? Who gives a shit.

Me and Harmy. I’m about 15 pounds too heavy to wear this thing, but really, who gives a shit?

While I’m putting my deng down flippin’ and reversin’ it in my awesome gear and fielding questions like, “Is it see-through like Lulu’s yoga pants?” and I was all, “Why don’t I let you be the judge?” and busted a Down Dog, Rod asked me if I had been keeping up with my yoga practice.

“Um. No?”

If my ass looked this good, I don't think I'd care if my pants were see-through.

If my ass looked this good, I don’t think I’d care if my pants were see-through.

And he was like, “Whatever you are doing, it’s great.”

I replied, “I’m pole dancing.”

Later he said, “I don’t know what you are doing but you look strong.”

Me: “Thanks, I’m pole dancing.”

Rod: “You’re alignment is great, I’m surprised you haven’t been practicing.”

Me: “It’s because I’m pole dancing.”

And so forth. No matter how many times I told him that I was pole dancing, he seemed to either have a mental block about it or thought I was kidding. Repeatedly. Inexplicably.

At the end of the class he asked if I was joining the gym again and I said no, but I am looking forward to a new pole dance studio opening in a few weeks. He was like, “Oh? Really? You pole dance?”


Time to cut the crap.

Today’s offerings are less tangible, but most definitely clutter. My email. Now that I have a smartphone I’ve noticed how much time I spend deleting unwanted emails, unlike my husband who just leaves them in his inbox. It’s a small thing to mark each one for deletion, but still, why are they even there?


While I can’t do much about SPAM, much of the unwanted emails are a result of signing a petition or buying something somewhere and I can unsubscribe from these lists. Or at least I hope so. I’ve heard it’s how some phishers know they’ve got a live one, but I do know which lists I am legitimately on and I should be able to do something about that.

My partner in purging wrote a great post about taking time to do something right rather than putting it off; so today I am unsubscribing from every piece of junk mail I get.

Yes, it’s faster to delete each one but when I wake up to 45 emails, only two or three being relevant to me and my “work”, I think of the mental energy it takes and what the cumulative effect is: a life full of busy, mindless tasks. I have enough of that nonsense keeping my house running.

I plan on taking that extra minute to really deal with SPAM today, and tomorrow, and the next day.

Really? No way.

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