Last weekend I was in Claire’s with my dad (there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write) because we were buying my 4-year-old cousin a tutu and tiara for her birthday. I said “Dad, can you pay for this? I want to look around…” and he looked at me like I was crazy since I was approximately 13 years older than the average age of the people in there.
But seriously, you guys, Claire’s is still awesome. When I first started shopping on my own (age 11 or 12), it quickly became my favorite store because it was the only one I could really afford (there was no Forever21 or H&M near me yet). And amid the piles of High School Musical crap, it still has some really cute stuff, if you’re willing to search.
I was going to buy this little pink, heart shaped purse on a long chain strap for ten dollars, but I was too embarrassed in front of my dad. I regret not buying it. It was actually really cool, I swear.
I also kind of wanted a giant set of multi-colored eye glitter, but I realize that my weird attraction to glitter makeup that I’ll never wear is my own problem, and that no one else would think it was cool.
So it was probably a bad idea to make my first yoga class experience a hot yoga class (where they heat up the room to an oven-like temperature). It was… sweaty.
I’d never done any yoga before, except for once in high school gym class, but I figured it would be kind of easy, since I’m used to dance classes and I’m fairly limber. What I kind of forgot was that I haven’t danced in 2 years, and I haven’t done any intense dance classes in 5 years. Also, I never go to the gym. Ever.
So, yeah. It was tough. Not impossibly tough, but I got a bit of a headache (maybe from the heat, maybe from my weird sinuses) and light-headed a few times. I feel like hot yoga is maybe one of those things where after you leave you’re like “oh, that wasn’t so bad, I should do that again,” but then you go back and you kind of want to kick yourself in the ass.
The teacher was this guy who kept talking like an eerily calm robot (like HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey) and spoke in these overly intricate sentences. I kept trying not to laugh because everyone else was taking it SO SERIOUSLY. No one even laughed when he suggested that doing a headstand is a good place to do some thinking.
During the easy parts when we got to rest in certain positions he would tell us to forget about all the school work and other things in our lives and to focus on the flow of our bodies and stuff, but all I kept thinking was how badly I wanted a popsicle.
I’m leaving Canada in exactly 2 months. It’s hard to wrap my mind around moving back to America. (I wrote “moving back home” and changed it.)
After living downtown in the city (even though it’s a small one), the idea of moving back to the suburbs, to a housing development in the woods seems really isolating. I know I’m going to feel cut off from everything, and that living in my mom’s basement (even if the room is nice and the closet is gigantic) in a city where I don’t have a single friend, is only going to make things harder.
I think if I was moving into a place of my own I would be more scared, but at least I wouldn’t feel this sense of dread that I’m about to be swallowed by boredom and loneliness.
I’m not trying to be dramatic, I’m just overwhelmed by the gloominess of it. I can’t stand how ordinary it is.