the tale of two classes

I kinda have a feeling that my Body-fucking-Balance instructor hates me. He fucking hates me.

Based on one-hundred-percent courtesy he asked us in the beginning of the class, "Who from any of you is a first timer here." I kinda want to scream Monica-like, "I am! I am!", but instead I just proudly raised my hands up high. I needed the stretching anyway. So he said something like, "For the two of you, .." there are two newbies in the class, ".. try to always look at me when doing any choreography. I will always give any options for each advanced movements and positions. So don't worry and think everything will be too hard."

It turns out, I already master most of these "advanced positions", or in my dictionary, the positions that need extra work. You know, like tree pose, eagle pose, trikonasana, wheel pose, and warrior III, to name a few. Thanks to my mean-but-the-best-yoga-instructor-ever yoga instructor and three weeks of having four yoga classes in a week.

I'm not saying that I am exceptional in these poses, no. But the fact that I could hold tree pose much longer and much more balanced than most of the class and even the instructor, kinda gave him a bitch-slap I think. The fact that I was one of the only three that succeeded posing a wheel, kinda gave him the impression that I was a show-off.

If I were him, I would come up to me after class and say, "First timer, huh? First timer my ass. Get the hell out of my class you show-off!"

To make things clear, I wasn't showing off. I only wanted to capitalize some hundreds of thousands of money that I paid to join this class.

So I'll come again next week. I'm still going to do the best I can (which is, again, I tell you, much better than most of the class). Not showing-off. Just because.