well well

I didn't think I had any followers, but lo, I do! So, here I am again.

I've started Jazzercising. Your MS Word spellchecker recognizes it. I get super sweaty and stinky. My sister is going with me and we're both purple faced and dripping by the end. But, we figure that if our aunt, fifteen years my senior and a couple jeans sizes ahead of us, can do it, so can we. If the 3,274 year old woman in front of us can keep up, so can we. So we did.

First observation: busty girls need to wear a super duper bra. I can keep up with the hopping and skipping and chasses and such, but my bosoms can't. I have two sports bras, but one is from pre-baby days and doesn't fit the same. The other creates a 30-minute cardio workout just to get into it, but nothing moves. So, I'm going to have to add that 3o minute cardio segment to my workouts. (If you're thinking, so just go to Target and get a couple more! then you haven't fully grasped the magnitude here. I'm not shy, come over and grasp it. You'll understand.)

Second, it's absolutely delightful that the instructor brings wet washcloths so we can wipe our sweaty, purple faces. Maybe we need to find a spot by the fans.

Third, I am way out of the loop on American pop music. I hear "Latifa" and I think "Ashan Bahebak," not "Ladies First." Paula Abdul? Did she sing that duet with Hakim? No. So I suppose this is an educational experience in music, too.

Fourth, you can take me out of Near Eastern dance class, but if there's dancing, I'm bellydancing. It's how I roll - from the obliques and through the hips. The warm up involves sliding the ribs over. Everyone else is leaning towards the wall. I slide just my ribs over. Everyone else rocks their hips like they're in George Michael's "Faith" video (I know that one!). I snap my hips sharply, using my glutes. I have a feeling some people are a little weirded out by it. I'm not bothered by it. I have yet to shimmy, but I think it will come once I'm more familiar with the footwork.

I have no idea how some moms write regular lengthy blogs. I am climbed like a rock wall as soon as I'm near the computer. But I'll make a point to make a howdy do! I hear my son still being awake.