Hi hey hello. First and foremost let’s applaud my dedication to YOU PEOPLE. To intentionally carve out a few minutes of my paaaacked day to remind you that I exist at a yoga wellness retreat. Caitie and I are at Kripalu in Massachusetts and when we booked this trip we lovingly chose a “jail room.” We have two twin beds in a room with a sink. We could hold hands in the night, but choose not to. The second we walked into Kripalu we both clocked a guest star from Orange Is the New Black. Very prison chic!
It’s a device free place, that used to be a convent, and then a cult, and now it’s full of older white trauma women. Caitie and I are in a sixteen woman deep writing workshop. Our teacher is unfortunately a man.
If you ask a question his answer is in one of his 50 or 60 books, which is really not a helpful answer. I did try to hone in on getting something useful with the “deep” aspect of the writing by asking, “What’s a prompt to help guide us in going deeper with our writing?” He answered, “write deep.” That was the whole answer. For real.
This class is actually immensely beneficial because he just forces us to write. He’ll say some pretty floaty or confusing or really basic shit and then say, “ok now write for forty minutes.” and then guess what? I fucking do. I just counted how many pages I’ve written since getting here Sunday night, and the answer is TWENTY FOUR. All of it is written like someone on crack vomiting a story out, but still. That is six more pages than I had written of my book TOTAL before I got here.
Omfg Orange Is the New Black is sitting on a rocking bench directly out the window of my current view. I have been trying to organically (see what I did there) have a conversation with her to no avail. Caitie had a chat with Orange by a lake that I MISSED because Caitie and I have been very independent and I am anxiously early for every class and Caitie goes outside way more because she isn’t like that.
Orange and I were both in yoga dance (yeah) today at lunch. I was hoping that would break some ice but I acted too cool and never partnered up with her. Yoga dance began with standing shoulder to shoulder in a tight circle of mostly old lesbians and then rub each others’ backs. I liked the lesbian part because a butch is my chef’s-kiss-fave, but I haaaaaate not being prepared for invading each others’ space. Even at CorePower at home we have to give consent before every class to be touched by the teacher.
Omg this yoga dance teacher was HOT STUNNING BEAUTIFUL. Her name is Lena which I feel kosher revealing and she is a goddess from Brazil. She asked me if I was a model?!? Which is me bragging, but also, real recognizing real. I am in the top 1% of superficial beauty here and I. am. loving. it.
Ok I gotta be fast because it’s almost time for intermediate yoga.
The day schedule
7:30 wake up
8am breakfast today there were GLUTEN FREE BLUEBERRY PANCAKES OKAY (and like 1239048390284 other things)
9am-11:30am writing class with the ladies
lunch
1:30pm-4pm writing class AGAIN with those bitches (who I love and am bonding heavily with). One of them is going through a divorce and has been separated for a year and her children don’t even know it. But I do. I do.
4:45 yoga
dinner gluten free dairy free for dayyyyys bay bay
7:30 sleepytime yoga?!??!!!!
and then you just reaaaaaad and drink more teaaaaaaa and this is granola yoga writing heaven. I love it so much- except we have communal bathrooms. I’ve found a pretty sneaky secret one by a gym which has aided in the unsurprising diarrhea of yesterday.
Ciao for now,
Ariana
Your book will be finished in no tiempo! This camp sounds like a gluten free dairy free dream!