Too Old To Give A Fuck And It's Fucking Great

Too Old To Give A Fuck And It's Fucking Great

39 (and a half, I'ma child) is the right age that Denise Michelle Marie Dalphond stops giving a fuck. And it is great. Tonight, down at the Center for Yoga in bougie Ann Arbor, the yoga teacher who is so far from being a yogi, it's hilarious, interrupted my flow. Now if you don't practice yoga, this might not seem like a big fuckin deal. But I took my first yoga class when I was 17 after dancing ballet and modern dance since I was fucking 4. 22 years of doing the yoga. I've practiced yoga so many times in so many ways in so many places that now I mostly prefer to practice yoga alone in my home. My blue yoga mat has been with me since before I started growing my first baby. He's about to turn 15 this spring. I love the yoga. My yoga practice is important to me.

Sometimes, when I practice the yoga, I do not tie back my long ass curly wavy don't know what the fuck it's doin hair. It changes my yoga to leave my hair down gettin in my face. Sometimes I take off my glasses and can't see for shit. Sometimes I try to do my yoga with my eyes closed. That shit's hard as fuck. So I keep openin em. 

About two years ago, I used my tax return money to buy myself a 50 class yoga package at my favorite yoga studio, Center for Yoga. They used to have a second studio on the far west side of Ann Arbor. I liked it best. There were two teachers there, Nicole and Kelly, who were badass motherfuckers. I loved their practices. In my lifelong mission to be a badass motherfucker, they fit and they inspired. It's a hot yoga studio and the flow is intended to be athletic. Shortly after I purchased that large ass class package, some shit went down, they closed the studio I liked best, and Kelly and Nicole left to open their own studio. I was not about to spend more money going to another studio. So I practiced at the Center for Yoga studio across from the university of michigan's central campus. It's a way different vibe. The student body hovers around the age of 9 instead of the adults I was used to practicing with. JK. They're college age babies. 

This must have happened for a reason. Now, I've got 12 motherfucking classes left. Thank fucking christ. Two years later and I still have not used up those 50 fucking classes! There's your data for how much I don't like this studio. I think this happened to help me teach myself that I no longer need a yoga teacher. Like I said, I prefer to practice alone at home. 

But I go to this studio when I feel like the stress is building up too much and I need to let it go. Since they only teach babies at this studio, they don't know what to do with adult bodies. I'm 39. My joints and connective tissues are different from those of a baby. This one time, this hilarious yoga teacher who is not a yogi actually pushed me down while my legs were spread eagle because she thought that was a safe fucking thing to do. I did not say anything because I was too big of a baby still.

Tonight, she walked over to me while I was in the middle of a flowing sequence of movements that she set out for us in the middle of a full room of students who are trying to MEDITATE WHILE MOVING - that's what yoga is, yoga teacher, moving meditation - and she handed me an elastic saying, do you need a hair tie? 

First of all, no I don't fucking want something that may or may not have touched someone else's head, or was stuck in someone's fucking pocket. But more importantly, I was meditating, and that shit was going good. And she interrupted my fucking flow. I was pissed. I wanted to get up, gather my mat, and leave in a huff! Remember, I'm a baby. 

But I didn't. Because I've been practicing yoga long enough that I should be able to come back from any bullshit and keep doing my moving fucking meditation. But I was pissed. And I was pissed for the rest of the practice. That's bullshit. 

So I told her.

Oh, wait, I forgot one more little tiny detail: she played a fucking beatles song as the last song of the practice. The beatles? Who fucking listens to the beatles? Probably a lot of people, but I fucking don't. So I had to listen to that shit while lying in savasana/corpse pose. 

Dumb.

But I walked up to her and politely, but clearly frustrated, told her that she interrupted my flow. I also let her know that I've been practicing for 20 years and come to class when I need to boost my fire. She explained that she does the same with her hair, leaves it down. So why the fuck would you assume otherwise with me? I'mmna say this as neutral as I fucking can, when I go to a yoga class, it's obvious that I've been doing this a long time. Because I've been doing this a long time. If my hair is down, it's deliberate. I don't come to a class because I really really need a teacher to teach me the yoga. 

I've practiced lots of styles of yoga. With music, without music. With chill meditative music. With pop music. In NYC. In Indiana. In Michigan. With plants in the windows and art on the walls. With plain walls. In darkness. With bright lights. On carpeted floors. On wood floors. With high heat. Without high heat. While pregnant. Before being pregnant. After being pregnant. With my toddler crawling under my down dog. With my dog staring at me. 

This experience tonight is yet one more clear sign to me that motherfuckers are not paying attention. Motherfuckers all around me are so self-absorbed that they only see themselves. And they only see their stories that they tell themselves. I've been self-absorbed. I've told myself stories and insisted that they were true. But once you get beyond all that shit, life gets fucking better. I am too old to give a fuck what tchou think. I do things my way. I listen to and observe other peoples' ways. And I hone my ways. But I do things my way. 

I didn't know that this would happen at 39. I didn't know that this would happen at all. But the difference is notable. And I don't mean, oh I'm soooooo old. I mean I'm the right god damn age to stop giving a fuck. It's great. And I've finally started telling motherfuckers what I think because I'm old enough to know that YOU can learn from ME. I know when I can learn from you. But lately, little babies keep insisting that I'm here to learn from them. At all costs. At all times. It's super confusing to me. Because I know who I am. And these self-absorbed, confused motherfuckers do not know who they are. 

I walked out of that yoga studio to my car knowing that even though I felt frustrated, I would have felt way worse had I kept quiet. That's what 39 is teaching me. Motherfuckers want you to stay in your lane, do what's expected. But I love to change lanes cause sometimes I'm movin way the fuck faster than anyone else. I make my lane. And I remake my lane whenever the fuck I want. 

So after yoga, I was so thirsty that I was going to implode. Go insane. I usually don't bring a water bottle. Because I'm not a fucking baby. I wait til I get home. But tap water was not what I wanted. I was still in Ann Arbor, and I'm bougie. So I drove down to the whole foods, not the one I used to work at, another one. The one on the way home to valiant ypsilanti. The biggest one. I wanted my favorite alkaline water that I used to always buy when I worked there about 50 fucking years ago at this point. I found a very nice, affordable bottle of B complex, food-based vitamins with a lot of other good stuff in it, too. Like herbs and mushrooms that give you that good B shit. And then, because it's citrus season, I checked the produce department. They had the best fucking piece of produce in the entire fucking universe (challenge me aliens): heirloom navel oranges. If you have not tried this shit, you should probably just drop off the surface of the earth immediately. Or try em. Whatever. They're nutz. Deez nutz. Heirloom means unfuckwithed. That's it. 

So basically, what I'm tryin ta say is, maybe don't wait too long to start seriously not giving a fuck. But if you do it wrong, then you're just another asshole. If you're sad or depressed and just go around bein a fuckin asshole to people, then you're doing life wrong. I'm mostly talkin to women here because we're too fucking apologetic all the time. Stop giving a fuck. Tell motherfuckers what you fucking think. Be compassionate and learn about other motherfuckers. Be old enough to not give a fuck. I know about myself and my yoga practice enough to be able to teach someone about my boundaries. So basically, what I'm sayin iz, know yourself real good first, and then don't give a fuck. Or don't give a fuck while you're getting to know yourself real good. I don't know. I'm 39 and still fucking work wage labor. What the fuck do I know. Seriously. I don't know. 

I'ma do yoga to this tomorrow:

 

 

this one time, i worked way too hard for the corporate patriarchy

this one time, i worked way too hard for the corporate patriarchy

this one time, i wanted to love a mediocre white man

this one time, i wanted to love a mediocre white man