Surprisingly Terrifying Thing #1
I would like to know why this even exists.
A few weeks ago I must’ve accidentally switched the ring tone for one of the alarms on my iPhone. I use it as my alarm clock in the mornings, and it generally wakes me with a few gently strummed guitar chords.
This morning, however, it was a harp. That might sound soothing, but when you’ve been up since 4:30 on a Saturday because you couldn’t sleep and you’re all sweaty and overheated from trying to squeeze in a three mile walk in record setting temperatures, trust me: hearing a loud harp coming from the general direction of your bedroom makes you think that either you’re on the brink of nervous collapse, or there’s a cat burglar with an angel obsession entering your condo.
Surprisingly Terrifying Thing #2
As previously noted, it is hotter than a warlock’s balls in DC this week and the humidity isn’t helping. As a result, everyone is pushing the boundaries of acceptable skimpy wear. I bent to the heat this morning myself, swapping out my regular yoga pants for a running skirt — a black lycra number with hot pink shorts sewn in — to help me stay cool on my walk to/from yoga.
It was a great move — until it was time to actually do yoga. I realized the problem as soon as I sat down to stretch. Um. Perhaps a running skirt wouldn’t be a bad idea — if the shorts underneath it were black, or a bit more short-shaped (and less like bathing suit briefs). But when your shorts are hot pink, it kinds of borders on obscene.
I’ve spent enough yoga classes sending mental apologies to my fellow yogis, so today, I decided I was going to take a more HoneyBadger approach to the situation and just not give a shit. That worked pretty well, until our teacher had us spend a prolonged amount of time in this pose:
Now picture this same pose in hot pink bikini bottoms. Vomit.
And at that point, in a new twist on the carpet matching the drapes, I’m pretty sure my face matched my shorts.
pithypants 
Right, so… choked on my martini at the “cat burglar” line… and then totally identified with the skimpy clothing thing because I declared aloud today that if Mother Nature was going to hurl this crap at us, I was going to wear wildly inappropriate clothing. I looked like Carrie Bradshaw, but not a size 2 with 38C boobs. Well done on the post.
Awesome.
Sally the camel has….two lumps. That’s it – you are now my “Willy lump, lump”….hahahaha