Because I have no other venue to vent, I must say here...dear lady who decided to put her yoga mat RIGHT in front of mine in a very crowded 6am Bikram yoga class this morning, PLEASE do butt kegels or whatever sphincter strengthening exercise you need to do in order to keep your gas in your ass. You farted in my face three times this morning. I am pregnant, and you don't want to face my retaliation. I've got an alien inside who is a dirty bomb specialist, so watch out.

Bikram yoga is hard enough, but add the stench of whatever Senorita Stinky ate for dinner last night (oh and you know it was some gnarly vegan entree) and I was about to give up. At one point the instructor called out a correction to me "keep your tail bone under and your glutes tight" and I wanted to shout back..."tell that to fart face in front of me!"

At the end of class, a very, very, very handsome older man who was next to me in class approached me to say that he was really impressed that I am still practicing, and that I still looked strong while fighting to hold postures meant for skinny Eastern Indian men. We talked about how tough the class was this morning, because it was so hot and very crowded.

As my Bikram babe was saying goodbye to me in the lobby, Senorita Stick Bomb walked by us, bent down to put on her shoes and let out another toot. Can I get a break here??? For the love of God and your own pride, shove a cork in your ass! Of course when she stood up, she said "hi honey", gave Bikram babe a kiss, and off they went hand in hand.

Dear Bikram Babe, you are no longer my Bikram boyfriend. Next time you and your gassy girlfriend come to class, why don't YOU take the spot behind her and let the rest of us have a shot at clean air. I have lost all respect for you. Its not me, its you, but I hope we can be friends someday.