This year, I'm trying to do some new things. I'm not a spontaneous person, and I've decided that it would be good for me to get out there and take part in some new activities. Not only does it broaden my horizons, but it has entertainment value for people who get to watch, so it's like I'm also performing a public service. Go me.


This weekend, my husband and I were working on some house repairs and I got to learn how to use a battery-operated circular saw and a reciprocating saw. What I found amusing is that the guy asked me if I'd used power tools before, and I said, "Oh, yeah. Lots of times." (I have. I've used screwdrivers and drills and even a nail gun once, a long time ago, and never again, but I've never used a small finger-removal machine. That's what I call power saws.) So the guy just hands me this circular saw and leaves me to it. Is that a good idea? Really? Do I look like the sort of person who should be handling dangerous machinery? In case you don't know what I look like, the answer to that is definitely "no." 


I sat there for a while, trying to get it to turn on, and trying to figure out how it was supposed to cut through anything with that shield over the blade part. After about 20 minutes, I figured that part out. So I get it to start working, and the battery promptly dies. Had to go find another battery. Got that done, then I'm cutting, and....just, holy cow. You really have to hold on to those things or they'll get away from you.


I then go outside to see if I can find a piece of board that's around the right size for my project. Alas, there is none. This is when I learn to use the reciprocating saw. Again, whoa. Those things are even stronger than the battery-powered one I was using, and this one has a tricky button that keeps the saw on. I don't know how I managed to escape that day injury-free, but I did. I was so proud, I almost felt like dancing, but that has a 90% likelihood of causing great bodily harm to myself and others around me, so I didn't.


I decided that maybe that kind of heavy home improvement is not for me. Too many opportunities to lose a limb or an eye.


Last night, I went to yoga with my Dad. I started a Facebook harassment campaign about a month ago to get him to go with me. I wanted to try it with someone who'd laugh almost as much as I do about the possibility of someone farting. I took a Pilates class in college, and there was definitely some audible flatulence going on, pretty much every day, so I figured yoga would be similar. It didn't disappoint.


Actually, it went really well. My Dad and I were representing in the way back, which is how we roll, and we couldn't hear the instructor too clearly at all times, but there was a very intense yoga lady in front of us, so we just watched her and tried to copy. My Dad only got his legs backwards once, and had to kind of sit that out, because his legs wouldn't go the right way, and I had to modify everything a little because, well, I'm fat, and my body doesn't go that way.


The farting? Yeah, it was going on, except most of the time it was silent, so I thought it was my Dad and he thought it was me, and there were only a few little pops that I heard and he didn't, which I knew wasn't him, because they were totally girl farts. Men embrace their gassiness and just let it happen. Ladies try to do it as quickly and quietly as possible (I realize I am making a sweeping generalization, and that many women embrace their gas, too, but you could tell these yoga ladies weren't that kind of woman).


So I'm giggling, and then the man says, "I'm so thankful for this nice facility:  The nice carpet, the fans, the bathrooms..." I almost lost it, and THEN something with a more techno-ish beat comes on, and he says, "Move your body to the beat, if you want to." I turn to my Dad to say, "No, I do not," and then I realize I've been holding in the giggles for so long that if I say anything, it's going to come out way too loudly and everyone will hear. So I tried to say it, but pretty much failed and had to lay my head on the mat for a minute and just laugh.


It was ridiculous. It was also the most fun activity I've tried this year, and I've tried some really fun things, like the bagel-baking (lots of good new recipes, in general) and having a game night at my parents' house (Yes, I hang out with my parents all the time. They're fun.) and making some new crafts, like a hand-crocheted bowl and a baby blanket. So I guess that, so far, yoga with my Dad wins the fun award.


Until I'm the one who farts out loud in class, and I die of embarrassment. There will not be a blog post about that one.