Mii

So I would like to have a conference with you wherein we discuss how I would like our future conversations to run.

You: Hey, Yelena, I see you've taken up a new hobby.
Me: What?
You: Eating cookies!

Why is it that the only person who can, with no embarrassment, call me an Orca to my face is my brother. He'll take one look at me and go, "shut your piehole, fatty." The rest of you are in severe dereliction of duty. Chances are I know I've fallen off the cookie wagon, but your reprimands keep me honest.

In lieu of your assistance, I have taken up with Todd. Todd is a pixelated trainer, and his name is not Todd. He doesn't have a name, but he looks like a Todd, so I have decided to call him Todd. I have no illusions that Super Hula Hooping for 10 minutes a day followed by Rhythm Kung Fu will be any kind of antidote to the cookie-as-meal conundrum, but I hear tell that some movement is considered better than no movement, and spending 30 minutes a day with Todd and the Super Hula Hooping avatars is, at least, fun. And can be done from the comfort of my own house.

The surprise in all of this is the Wii Yoga. You may have heard me mock yoga, or at least mock yoga practitioners, among whom my mother may be counted. Yoga on its own seems innocuous, but it is frequently followed by faux-Buddhism and vegetarianism, two things I think we should eradicate sooner rather than later. When in college, I tried my hand at some yoga. It was an unmitigated disaster. In the best of shape I am not what one would call especially graceful, add n pounds and I start to resemble the elephant seal using its stomach to flop itself onto shore. So I was in a yoga class with my college classmates, the vast majority of whom were at least 20 pounds slimmer than I, and therefore, even if not graceful, not graceful while taking up less space.

I lasted two classes before I crawled back to my room to sit in the dark, eat M&Ms, and cry over my poor coordination and lack of rear end definition.

So yoga and I were on the outs until Todd came along. He told me I could try out yoga in the safety of my own home, where (even though I rationally know no one was looking at me before) no one would look at me and giggle at my falling down thing, nor where I would have to see myself in bike shorts and a jog bra writ large on a massive workout room mirror, and where I could discover that, hey, yoga is like really good stretching.

It's not going to make me thinner, but it might strangely, make me more coordinated if I do it from time to time (fine, twice a week). Yes, there were some poses - I'm looking at you shoulder stand; are you kidding me with that? what possibly makes you think normal people should bend like that - that perhaps should be reattempted when I am overall more comfortable, but I can stand on one leg while holding the other leg out and stretching with the opposing arm. In fact, it feels really nice. Like when devoted partner pulls on my leg.

So Todd and I will continue to work out together - he tells me I'm doing a good job and, unlike real life trainers, does not require $75 every time we hang out. I look forward to my Mii looking slightly less like a ball and slightly more like a person. Now if only I could find out whether or not there are any more songs worth unlocking on Dance Dance Revolution.