On Monday evening, D and I set off to our yoga class.  Those moments as we drive to where the class is are always bittersweet – the feel-good factor that we are about to do something healthy and positive, combined with the (sometimes quite strong) feeling of dread and anticipated discomfort.  Sometimes our conversations in the car are full of yoga, and what we hope our teacher doesn’t make us do, and sometimes we talk about our lives.  I try not to talk about life on the way to yoga as it often alters my mood and I find that if you start yoga in a fragile mood, the discomfort of trying to contort yourself like a bizarre twister contestant makes you cry and embarrass yourself massively.  Yes, I am speaking from experience, I have lain on the floor with tears pouring down my face during a yoga class and been powerless to do anything about it except wait for it to stop.  Usually I avoid public displays of emotion (see opening presents) so this made me extremely uncomfortable.  Even more uncomfortable than folding myself over one bent leg and trying to link my hands through my legs and over my shoulder.  I will include a picture, it is impossible to describe with words – my word document just highlighted to whole sentence in green – I mean it doesn’t even make grammatical sense never mind actual physical sense.

Need I explain further?  (That isn't me by the way.  My hands do not even come close to each other during this pose.)

Need I explain further? (That isn’t me by the way. My hands do not even come close to each other during this pose.)

Anyway, on Monday, we were going to yoga in the car, and as I turned a blind corner onto a particularly quiet street, I saw something in the middle of it.  I immediately slowed down, straining to see what it was.  This is what I saw:

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In case you can’t tell. (and it took me a while) what it was was three young girls lying in the middle of the road, taking selfies.

I mean, I am a fan of the selfie, and have been known to take a few myself, but lying in the middle of the road to do so is not such a good idea.  Anyway, I drove practically right up to them, they didn’t move or even turn to see if I was an articulated lorry approaching at speed  and then, realising that they were unmoved by the fact that I was in a car and they were vulnerable bumps in my path, and having no inclination to play chicken with some flighty and frankly quite stupid teenagers, I backed into a nearby space.

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I took pictures of them though, so that you can see that it wasn’t me imagining things, (although why my already overworked imagination would conjure up silly teenager roadblocks is beyond me).

I am trying to think if I was ever that stupid/arrogant/oblivious when I was a teenager.

I am going to go with no.  After all, I was a teenager a long time ago, and we just didn’t lie in the middle of the road.  I thought it was exciting to walk on the side of the road in Athens because the way it is designed means that walking on the pavements is a military grade obstacle course, and the dogs behind every gate growl and bark at you if you get too close.  I certainly never thought it would be a good idea to risk death in order to get a photo.  Of myself.

Selfie on the bandstand, Regent's Park.  No life-threatening danger during the taking of this selfie.

Selfie on the bandstand, Regent’s Park. My life was never in danger during the taking of this selfie.

I know, I know, my age is showing, but really girls, there are other ways to get a thrill.  I hear staying in and watching Netflix is the new going out and risking death in the middle of the road with only a mobile phone for protection.

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