Dear Speedo wearing guy in last night’s hot yoga class,

Dear Speedo wearing guy in last night’s hot yoga class,
NO. No to the speedo wearing and NO to the litre of *grape juice you were guzzling throughout the class.
No to your grunting and groaning and hyperventilating and a special NO to you using an outside voice to ask
questions to the instructor, from across the room, during class.

I probably should have known when reception demanded at your arrival,
“HOW MANY CLASSES HAVE YOU DONE TODAY?”
that you were going to be an annoyance but I was in my own head.

I was trying to find focus, preparing for Zen, becoming aware of my breath,
wondering if I was going to be the fattest person in the class,
wondering whether or not to wear underwear under my yoga shorts…

Speedo guy, it was a Yin class. Yin is all about long holds done in silence.
There is no perfect pose, you are encouraged to be in total comfort with no muscular strain.

Therefore, arguing with yourself that you can’t do the poses was totally unnecessary.
You were free to do modified versions, you were free to lay on your mat, sweating and painlessly slurping on your juice box.

You were free to leave at any time.

Also, the faux Ujjayi/inuit throat singing was a little over the top.
I honestly couldn’t tell if you were pretending to be a yoga guru or not but if you were, crying
“ouch! Ouch! Oh my god, ow.. I can’t!! OW!” kind of gave you away.

I’m just saying.

* drinking that much juice is really bad for you. It contributes to high blood pressure,obesity, dental cavities, stomach ulcers, gastrointestinal problems, diabetes, socially inappropriate behaviour and has been known to contribute to participation in heinous crimes against fashion.
Drink water.

Jennifer June

It’s Business Time…

So tomorrow is Valentine’s day and it brings to mind visions of adoring glances, juicy kisses, cinnamon hearts, chocolate boxes and the Flight of the Conchords song Business Time.

I know, I know, there is a mountain of you grinchy people who think it’s stupid and where the hell does Wallgreens/Pharmasave get off telling you what day to be romantic and sweet with old what’s his/her name anyway??

Years ago I used to be all “Valentine’s Day is just another Hallmark holiday designed to seduce the consumer to blah blah blah…” A dozen roses, a box of Swedish chocolate, a candlelit dinner served with a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape and a $200 dollar bra & Panty set shut me up pretty fast.

Ok, it’s a bit much, I know, but we were like 20 or something and newly in love. It didn’t set the bar or anything, I’m not that delusional.

But seriously, hear me out.

Years (and boyfriends) have gone by… kids have been born, life has become real and routine. We become more and more familiar and subsequently predictable and so does uh…other stuff. So maybe now, instead of being wooed by sunsets, food sex, weekend long sex-a-thons or my boyfriend pulling his pants down at a full taxi stand, in plain daylight, at rush hour, on the corner of St. Catherine and Amherst… we’ve come to rely on the old tell tale signs that we’re gettin’ some (or not), such as shaved legs, the good underwear, begging etc…

Some of us have key questions or phrases such as “Why don’t I throw a video on for the kids” which could really mean “meet me in the bedroom in 2 minutes…naked”.

“Could you help me with something down in the laundry room for a second?” might mean “let’s lock ourselves in the basement and run the dryer with a shoe in it while we sneak in a quickie”.

“Let’s take a nap” might be code in some houses for “how about we go in the bed where you can give me a blow job and I can pass out immediately after, leaving you sexually frustrated and full of bitterness and resentment”.

Bret and Jemain sing:

Wednesday night is the night that we make love.
Cuz everything is just right, conditions are perfect.
There’s nothing good on TV, conditions are perfect.
You lean in close and say something sexy like ” I might go to bed I’ve
got work in the morning.” I know what you’re trying to say baby.
You’re tryin to say “Ooh yeah, it’s business time, it’s business time.”

Maybe some of us have gotten comfortable enough in our relationships to slack off a little when it comes to shaving, waxing, primping, chewing with our mouths closed, bathing…
and expect our partners to jump through the roof with excitement at the mere site of our naked bodies…

Those same naked bodies that have stopped going to gym, clipping their toenails, and still have this morning’s breakfast on the pajamas that we are still wearing at 11:00pm…for the third day in a row…

Bret and Jemain sing:

Next thing you know were in the bathroom brushing our teeth.
That’s all part of it. That’s foreplay.
Then you go sort out the recycling, that’s not part of it but it’s still
very important.
Then we’re in the bedroom. You’re wearing that ugly old baggy
t-shirt from that team building exercise you did for your old work,
and it’s never looked better on you….

I’m just saying that maybe there is something to be said for a day that you are obligated to give each other cute poems or cards and candy and drop everything else you have to do or watch on T.V. to remember why you like each other, make-out like teenagers and hump like bunnies.

Don’t any of you DARE leave comments about how you’ve been married for 40 years and the sex is still as crazy wild and hot as a drunk Mexican boar and your husband still makes you a heart shaped breakfast in bed every morning dressed in nothing but a Superman cape or ANYTHING even remotely like it because after I finish dramatically fake throwing up I will hunt you down and make you prove it. That’s right… I don’t mind watching. I’ll do it. You’ve been warned.

Oh yeah, and Happy Valentine’s Day. xx

Jennifer June