Outlet Malls and Outlets for Nasty, Dirty Dead Bugs

Disclaimer: I would really like to erase this, but I wanted to give Tracy a good laugh... My intentions for this blog where to find beauty and depth in life and report about it, but instead it's mostly 2nd grade potty humor. I am so ashamed of this blog I've been trying to stuff it under a lot of fluffy posts, but this has given me writers block. If I purge this demon from the draft pile maybe I can be totally self accepting and move on. So moving on...
Exciting news: things are looking back to normal! Today is a beautiful St Patty's day, straight out of Ireland. Dave, Avery and I headed to San Marcos early to do some Spring clothes shopping. I needed running shoes. Avery needed shirts and shorts. Dave needed another pair or two of khakis to match his other 20 pairs. And Will wasn't with us so he was spared, except for a little Nautica polo we couldn't resist. Yes, Dave likes him preppy, but I throw in a little skater boy. It's a shame Will doesn't get a say in what his geek parents decide. We filled Avery's treat bag with a few dum dums and 100 calorie cookie packs (by the way Nabisco it's an appropriate serving size for a baby, not an adult). After a quick run through, a manager at Banana says something to his coworker about expecting a huge day - 60,000 in sales. Small countries could run on that amount. I am disgusted and ready to peel my way throw the throng of spenders and head out of the shopping frenzy. Truthfully, I get shoppers high - there is something wonderful about good deals, but there are people starving and I very well could be too if I don't get my happy hiney out of here.

Speaking of happy hineys, I did say I was feeling better right? Then what has happened to my digestive system? So tonight, I met Tracy in Yoga class. It's my first class for the week.

Wait, I didn't tell you what I had for dinner, did I? Dave and I stopped at Pappadeaux for a little Cajun Yum-Yum to go. We've had a gift certificate forever and since we are compulsive spenders we had to rid ourselves of guilt. Waiting for the food, we grabbed a Guinness for St Patrick’s Day, and head out to the patio to let Avery play around the fountain (bath?). So before Yoga, I had a delicious meal of mostly beer (and very dark beer at that) with a side of seafood fondue. (Oysters and cheese...YUM!)

Anyway, class was going good (if you like to have your head between your legs) and our instructor had a wonderful Yoga voice. You know what I mean, very breathy and affirmative with lots of positive things like: "Great!", “That's beautiful!", "Wonderful!", “You are doing so well!" "Feel the negative energy leave your body." Then we get to the 'dead bug' pose.

Not a good thing when Tracy and I have already been told we were the trouble makers of the class, I have a full stomach, and I have recently had many humbling moments from the whole "shooting' virus. In the same beautiful voice the instructor informs us:"And it's okay if you blow a little dirt."

"What?"

"Did she say what I think she said?"

I look over at Tracy in confirmation that it's not the voices in my head and she is laughing. And then I am! AND Guess what? I blow a little dirt! Oh, lord have mercy, I can't stop laughing now. Really, I was just talking about the episode of Jackass where Johnny Knoxville goes to a Yoga class and totally lets his digestive system relax and he 'blows dirt'. I am mortally embarrassed, but we are laughing so loud that we really ARE disrupting class. Tracy gets up and leaves (in disgust?) and I am left in the corner still trying so hard to keep everything in!

After class, instead of slinking out red-faced and humiliated, I walked up to the instructor. Appartently, she thought Tracy and I were instructors, too, giving a review of her class.
"Uh, no, I'm the lady that hangs out in the back mostly messing up on poses,
making faces at my friend in the mirror, and tooting I mean expelling a little bit of that NEGATIVE ENERGY."