Zumba My Ass... Please.

Went to Zumba for the first time ever this evening, with a girlfriend who was SO cool about me tagging along.

I only felt uncoordinated about 30% of the time - 20% I made up as I went - and the rest I think I followed along OK. (or was that just in my mind?) However, most of the other ladies there were just about as uncoordinated as I was, so I didn't feel bad.

An hour long - that's it. I've danced longer and harder on a Saturday night in street clothes and a drink in my hand. However, this was FUN.

No posterizing, no scrutiny, no jerks to spill drinks on you or try to take you home during the last dance. (although, if I give it time, I might pick SOMEBODY up. ahhahahaha.)

There were about 100 women there tonight - and at $6 a head, it makes me wonder what she's paying for use of the room - because GIRL, that is not a bad wage for an hours work. And she had a small class before us, which I assume was probably also about the same and an hour long. Makes me want to shake my money maker on the stage under the lights to loud music. (again, back to Saturday nights, circa 1997ish.)

(Why does it always come down to the "business" with me? Ah well, can't deny who I am...)

My ass is AWARE. My thighs are AWARE. My waist WANTS to be aware, but mostly right now it wants me to put water and possibly boiled-eggish in there.

I have now said Aware too many times and am not sure I'm using it correctly. Pulling out the Poetic License on this one.

It was fun. I might jump around in front of my computer monitor this week to try to get some of those hoochie-machoohcie moves down for next time. (again, just like Saturday nights.)

Lori.