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emmanation

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Posts Tagged ‘new american cool girl’

GLAMPING

Thursday, June 29th, 2017

I always knew the Nederland in me would come out.

I just signed up for a yoga retreat.

In Moab.

In tents.

I’m not a hippie, like, overall. I work for corporate America in a BIG WAY. A big brother way, not to put too fine a point on it. I spend a lot of money on clothes. I mean, they’re mostly meant to look like they don’t cost a lot of money, but that’s probably worse, right? Is bourgeoisie the word for that? (Don’t tell me, I’m well aware. Bobo as fuck over here.) I do believe with all my heart in taking care of people who need help and giving what you have available to give, and I do have a lot of love … but I think that’s just being a democrat, right?

(I also get very cranky with a lot of people. Please see my archives for 1000 proofs. Or ask the guy I scolded at a bar on Tuesday for saying something VERY racist and then saying he couldn’t be racist because he went to school with black guys who got more girls than him. (Yes, he said pussy, but, come on, ew – there’s a time and place for that word and a bar with acquaintances is neither). SRSLY WUT.)

However. I love yoga, and I’ve been leaning really hard into self care while I’m working through some stuff. Like, beyond yoga – journaling and drinking a lot of wine. New American Cool Girl, right here.

This retreat I signed up for is women only. It’s three nights, yoga in the evening and in the morning and rock climbing and hikes to waterfalls in the middle. Made for insta, except no electricity and no reception.

Plus, there are cots and the tents have wood floors (hence the glamping). I mean, I wake up on either side of 5 am every morning already, and I love a good cactus. (Is there bad cactus? Yes. They’re the stumpy ones that animals run into accidentally. They don’t mean to hurt you, cactus, and it’s very hard for furry desert mammals to remove cactus spines, so that makes you a bad cactus.) I don’t love scorpions.

(My brother had a pet scorpion. Her name was Princess Tiffany. He’s an fantastic artist, and when Princess Tiffany died he made a huge stencil of her likeness and spray painted it in pink on the side of his Jeep. )

Princess Tiffany notwithstanding, I don’t want to find a scorpion chilling in my sleeping bag. Wood floors and cots will really facilitate that.

What I do want is a stranger assigned to my tent with me. We’ll be best friends for 48 hours at a minimum. And I want a group circle after dinner on Saturday that involves a moon deck. What is a moon deck? Your guess is as good as mine. I originally pictured a tables and umbrellas kind of deck that you watch the moon from, but it appears to be the card kind of deck. The moon part? I do not know, but damned if I won’t find out with a bunch of women I don’t know, sitting in a circle in the dessert.

Because, my inner Ned is rearing her head.