Usually, when you first start a blog, the only readers you have are yourself and the unfortunate few who found you because they Googled something like “Oxyclean, ketchup and The Pet Shop Boys”. Which means that some of the borderline genius posts you wrote at that time were maybe only seen by 2 or 3 people.
Today, the lovely & talented Ann over at Ann’s Rants starts a week of highlighting some long, forgotten blog posts, like my yoga rant, “Namaste”, which can be found by clicking here. (Caution: Yoga has been known to make me drop the f-bomb. A lot.)
You can find one of Ann’s lost classics over at Kelcey’s The Mamabird Diaries.
And I’m lucky enough to have one of Kelcey’s hilarious, no-longer-obscure posts right here:
In the Naked Night Kitchen
What’s with all the naked people at the gym? You may be thinking – I have no idea because I can’t get myself to actually go to the gym. Well, this information is not going to motivate you to get there.
Every week, I see these women who are enormously comfortable baring all amongst complete strangers. They stand there in the buck, with their lady parts all hanging out, while they mindlessly talk on their cell phones or blow dry their hair or apply mascara. Really?! You can’t throw on a towel? Maybe underwear?
It’s not like these ladies are super models. Oh no. Interestingly, it is often the ones with the cellulite dimpled behinds and extra generous waistlines that seem most at ease in the buff. Maybe they’ve come to some kind of peace with their bodies. Well, I’m not at peace as I attempt to throw on my yoga clothes without bumping into their exposed fannies.
Nudity in the ladies locker room goes way back. I distinctly remember when I was a teenager running into my best friend’s mom at our local YMCA. She was completely naked.
She stood there and actually chatted with me. “How are you? How’s school? I just ran into your mother at the CVS.” That kind of thing. I just kept uttering moronic replies like, “I’m good. School’s good. My mom is good.” I kept trying to focus on her face. I did not want my eyes to slip downward and find out whether she waxed or not.
And when I was in my twenties, I once went to a nude beach with my dad. We were on Martha’s Vineyard and I thought it would be funny to take a walk on Gay Head beach (yes, real name). I had never been to a nude beach before and I was a bit intrigued. So we went (fully clothed).
Well, there was nothing funny about it. Especially with my dad. Or any dad, for that matter. On our very short, uncomfortable walk, we ran into a naked family of four (mom, dad and two kids) all playing frisbee. Lots of running.
I don’t have a problem with nudity in the right context. My children love to be naked. My girls like to dance naked, eat naked, and conveniently, bathe naked. One of their favorite books is In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak. The little boy, Mickey, pretty much spends the whole book nude – in fact that’s the only thing I actually understand about this weird, trippy children’s story.
So it’s natural to bear all. I love being naked – as long as I’m wearing a t-shirt and jeans too.