I know, I know, I know, but I keep being sure I'm going to terrify my something like three straight male readers with the porn entries, plus just being the big gay ho stereotype. I know you're all way more enlightened than that, but I have issues to get over.
As far as the fat goes -- shh! Don't tell buzzwords!
Nah, truth is, I can't make sex sound nearly as interesting as certain people - who I won't gratuitously link to because I've just totally been stalking him lately anyway - can.* But thanks! It's comforting to know that they're not completely offputting.
It's so strange. The job sucks for pay and being able to manage a stable life, but my LiveJournal's really been benefitting.
* - Although it's great fun to be his self-appointed pimp.
It was damn near close. The "table" positions are essentially pushup stances. "Low table" is hard. Try doing a pushup and staying at the low point, just before you touch the floor, for a while.
farting is naturalcornekopiaMarch 11 2003, 21:19:25 UTC
And so is feeling freaky and not cool at a gym yoga class. I've been in the exact same situation you described, I can almost name the gym. The teacher not paying attention to the differing levels of the students, the students all striving for some impossible ideal. Everybody does feel fragile, everybody does feel inadequate.
There's another yoga class I go to sometimes, where most of the students are older women, definitely creekier and much more fragile than hairy, fat, younger me. I like that one fine.
I used to be tortured by Step Aerobics, which I HATED with such passion but had to go per a compromise I had with the guy I was in a relationship with. I was by far the worst person in the class. I couldn't keep up, I was always lost, I felt like my lungs were bleeding. I have very bad lung capacity, think of a little old lady who smoke a pack a day. At least I was the cutest guy in the class, but there were only two other guys in the class. I was the one who looked like Jack Tripper while everyone else looked like they did this for a living, including the man how was not perspiring while doing it with a large spare tire. I envied him.
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As far as the fat goes -- shh! Don't tell buzzwords!
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It's so strange. The job sucks for pay and being able to manage a stable life, but my LiveJournal's really been benefitting.
* - Although it's great fun to be his self-appointed pimp.
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Owie.
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There's another yoga class I go to sometimes, where most of the students are older women, definitely creekier and much more fragile than hairy, fat, younger me. I like that one fine.
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