Saturday, November 17, 2012


"Padiddle!" i yelled excitedly as we drove home tonight. my husband looked at me strangely and smiled slightly, wondering what the heck made me yell out gibberish.

i repeated it again. "padiddle. puh-diddle. don't you know what that means? didn't you see it? don't you want to kiss me?!"

he looked at me even more strangely, no longer smiling, as if i'd lost my mind. obviously he grew up with an incomplete childhood because no one should grow up without the padiddle game.

when you're driving at night and you see a car coming toward you with one head light burned out, you yell "padiddle" at the top of your lungs and then you get to kiss the person of your choice in the car where you're riding.

as a kid, i think i learned this game from my aunts who were young and hip and cool and knew about things like kissing boys. i spent many nights as a young teenager riding in cars where boys were present and hoping that we'd run across one of those lovely padiddles so i'd have a perfect and legitimate opportunity to smooch a boy. i'd see a solo headlight coming our way and i'd hold my breath, hoping it was an elusive single lighted car and not another stupid motorcycle out to trick me and spoil my fun.

years went by and i never saw one of those buggers at the right time. i was always with my parents or maybe my brother when i'd catch a glimpse of one.

finally, one night i was riding in a car with several friends on our way to a youth group activity with our church. i was probably 15 years old. along the road toward us came a padiddle, unmistakable, definitely not a motorcycle. i yelled it out gleefully and then started looking around, thinking of who i was going to kiss.

it wasn't going quite the way i'd imagined in my head. i wasn't crowded into a backseat with several cute boys to choose from. there was one cute boy driving, one not cute boy in the passenger seat and then 3 or 4 girls crammed into the backseat together. i quickly decided the driver wasn't a good option because of the potential crashing factor. i had no interest in kissing the un-cute boy in front of me.

i couldn't bear to let the opportunity pass me by altogether, so i turned to my best friend who was sitting beside me and gave her a big smooch right on the lips.

all the other passengers started squawking and yelling about what had just happened. they couldn't believe i'd kissed her.

in my mind, it wasn't sexual, it was just funny. i'm not sure i'd ever even heard of lesb!ans (trying to trick the naughty google searches) before so i didn't think much of it or understand the dramatic reaction of my friends.

looking back on it now, i guess it shows just how naive i was at that time. i thought i was a lady of the world, but clearly i was wrong. it makes me smile to remember those times and the innocence of hoping for a chance to give someone a quick peck on the mouth. childhood is a wonderful thing.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

i like it HOT

i've told you guys that i started doing yoga a few months ago. i was surprised to discover that i like doing it with my little videos at home. i do yoga usually a couple times every week and i've discovered that, in my own estimation, i'm pretty decent at the physical part.

recently, i started wondering if i was any good or if i was butchering the poses and motions. sometimes you feel like you're doing something correctly, but it's hard to see yourself and if no one else is watching to point you in the right direction, it's impossible to know how you're really doing.

i worked out in front of a mirror and sometimes had brooke take my picture when i was in a really awkward pose so that i could see myself and try to gauge my level of accuracy.

my sister started doing hot yoga recently. she's a high stress, high achieving, high intensity kind of person, so this is right up her alley. i, however, am none of those things. when she invited me to join her for a 90 minute class of hot (100+ degrees) power yoga, i reluctantly agreed, but i was sort of terrified. and excited. let me not forget my excitement.

i kept waking up at night with visions of myself falling over with rubbery bones in the middle of a class where everyone else was perfectly posed. i imagined my crotch being exposed to the people behind me as i bent forward in downward dog split. i imagined tears and rivers of sweat and puking straight down onto my mat while trying to get into crow pose.

instead of letting those fears and dreams deter me, i watched a bunch of power yoga videos on youtube. then i went out and bought some tight shorts so that my bits would be adequately covered, no matter my pose. i researched the best way to stay hydrated during an extended super hot strenuous workout and followed all the directions. then i signed up and paid online so i couldn't chicken out.

i showed up early and was very happy to have my sister with me to hold my hand. sometimes i'm a big baby and need my little sister to tell me that i'll be okay.

i was very surprised to find that the heat in the room was delicious. i'm almost constantly cold these days, so it was a wonderful change to be wearing very little clothes and still be toasty warm. i also discovered very quickly that the heat made my muscles extremely flexible. while sitting on the ground with my legs out straight, i could lay my whole face flat down onto my shins.

the teachers came along and made little adjustments on me periodically. one actually gave me a little back massage while i was in forward bend and i almost fell asleep standing up with my palms on the floor. i was able to perform right along with the rest of the class and i didn't feel like i stuck out as a newbie. best of all, i didn't fart once. i've read too many things about the gas passing that goes on during these hot classes and i was resigned to the possibility, but thankfully i was tootless.

all in all, i loved it. i was sad when it ended and didn't feel like it could possibly have been 90 minutes already. i'm glad to have stepped out of my comfort zone and tried something new and i can't wait to go again in three days.