Yogaville (dun dun dun...)

So it finally occurs to me to ask Yerin where exactly it is we're going to be going for this yoga retreat... and when I type in "Yogaville" into google, this is what shows up...

Am I concerned? Sure.

So I did a little more research and it turns out the whole "cult" thing was just your standard girl-goes-to-yoga-retreat-and-gets-brainwashed-to-never-leave-and-abandons-law-school-and-her-loving-family story. I'm sure it's no cause for concern.

Listen... we already paid for it, so it'll take a lot more than the threat of being brainwashed to join a yoga cult to keep us from going. I'm no quitter.

I'm sure it will be fine, their website makes it look quite enjoyable...

I'm not sure if I'll experience this "oneness" they're talking about (or if I even want to!), but since I get to wear yoga pants all weekend, I know I'll at least be experiencing comfort. And that sounds synonymous to me.

Just in case, I've taken the necessary precautions to ensure that I get out of this alive and of sound mind.  Most notably by packing my belongings in canvas bag imprinted with a super swank label... which will hopefully make them all think I'm one of those yoga practitioners. 

Swathed in my "that girl is such a poser" safety blanket, I'll be able to keep a low profile and in the bump of the night, I'll lead everyone to freedom holding a shiny beacon of fried chicken drumstick.

I should have totally been an undercover journalist.