Category Archives: Aerobic Dancer

Random Thoughts From Tonight’s Aerobic Dance Class (Which, for the “record”, totally sucked)

Is this Aerobic Dance class or kickboxing? WTF?
Hey, lady. Ever heard of a little thing called “personal space?”
Um, doing a “hop” at the end of The Grapevine does not make “cool”, so please stop doing it.
Who sharted?
No. Seriously. WHO SHARTED?
Who forgot their deodorant?
What’s with all of the Grapevines?
Niiiiiice buttocks.
Oh no she di’int.
Grandma, please.
Ha ha ha ha. QUEEFER.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm hummus and pita chips with wine.
When are we doing some pelvic thrusts, dude? ENOUGH WITH THE GRAPEVINES.
Ok. Your hand just brushed up against my arm and I am trying to be nice, but WHY DO YOU INSIST ON BEING ALL UP ON MY JOCK?
Two can play this game, heffer.
Whoops! Did my hand just hit the back of your head? I’m sorry, but if you weren’t all up IN MY PERSONAL SPACE, that might not have happened.
I hate to be cocky, but damn, my Bunny Hop was off the CHAIN.
Bean dip.
Is it over yet?

The One I Started Writing Over 3 Hours Ago But Just Now Finished Because People Be Calling My House and Knocking On My Door NonStop, Man.

You know how I was all “Hey! You should watch The Old Adventures of New Christine because I totally interviewed the cast!”
So, um, did you watch it?
Because I didn’t.
But! It’s not my fault! You see, last night I went to Aerobic Dance Class and just before I left, I looked PigHunter in the eye and said “Babe, can you please record TNAOOC for me?”
He shot back with a bit of an attitude. “Why? Why do I have to record it?”
“Um, because I want to watch it but since I also want to go to Aerobic Dance, I need you to record it so I can watch it when I get home.”
“uh, ok.”
Apparently “Uh, ok” means, “I’m going to totally get sucked into Deal or No Deal and forget all about recording your show, but um, hey, next time you want to watch a show, set the dvr yourself or stay home and watch it!”
I can’t say that I regret going to Aerobic Dance Class, but I can say that I regret trusting A MAN to do something he said he was going to do.
Oh, but I am joking. Men are wonderful and I’m not just saying that because they get boners.
(We interrupt this post to bring you some breaking news. Y is being stalked by a little black spider. When she went to go get a glass of diet pepsi, he was hanging from her door jam. She knocked it down with a dirty sock and tried to find it to kill it, but he was nowhere to be found. A few minutes later, she was making her bed and he appeared on her bed post, all staring at her like “Watchu’gonna do to me now, bitch?” She ran to get a piece of toilet paper to smash it, but by the time she got back, the little asshole had disappeared. Just now as she was typing this post, he started running up the wall next to her computer desk. She swears he flipped her the bird and he scurried off into the corner of the window sill. Y is now afraid for her life and doesn’t know how she’s going to sleep tonight knowing a little black stalker is waiting to attack her in her sleep.)
I wish I had a great story to tell you about Aerobic Dance Class last night, but I do not, because – and it kills me a little on the inside to say this outloud—[little voice] it kind of sucked [/little voice]
For starters, me and my cousin (who has been taking this class with me since the beginning of time.) were the only people in the class. Well, until Snotty Mc. Spandex showed up just before the music started pumping.
Normally, I would have LOVED to have been one of only 3 people in class because HELLO ATTENTION FROM THE INSTRUCTOR! But, she announced that she was going to be teaching “The Belly Dance” and, well, all of the extra weight I’m carrying around combined with the fact that I forgot to tie a sweatshirt around my waist to help camouflage The Jiggle, I was so not comfortable with doing things like “The Shimmy” and “The Figure 8.”
I was so paranoid about The Jiggle the entire class that it was hard to enjoy the dance. And it didn’t help that every 3 seconds Anna would look DIRECTLY AT MY STOMACH and shout “Abdominals IN! Keep your abdominals IN!”
I wanted to lift up my shirt and scream “THEY ARE AS IN AS THEY ARE GOING TO GET, WOMAN.” Because no matter how hard I suck that shit in, my “abdominals” are still going to look like a freshly popped open can of biscuits on board a bus ride through a rocky dirt road.
The entire class I kept thinking “inside of this overweight tub o’lard lives a really hot, muscular woman who isn’t afraid to “Shimmy Faster” I could feel her wanting to bust out from inside me and THRUST HER HIPS HARDER!” But last night I was so aware of just how much weight I’ve put on and how lumpy and jiggly my body has become again that I couldn’t enjoy the class like I have in the past.
I had these feelings when I first started taking Aerobic Dance Class, but as time went on and I lost weight and became more confident in My Moves, I stopped caring about The Lumps and The Jiggles and just started to have fun with it.
I want to have fun with it again, damn it. I want to love The Aerobic Dance like I did in 2005.
My issues with my body weren’t the only reasons the class sucked. The dance itself was a liiiiiiittle lame. She’s done belly dancing before and I remember it being fun and exciting and it making me a little hornay because of all of the moves involving hip thrusts. Last night it was dull and she only had a combination of 6 moves, which, for a pro like me, is like, boooooring.
Whoops, did that make me sound like an aerobic dancing snob?
Anyway, I plan on incorporating some new and different workouts into my routine. I’m going to start “running” at the park, doing more free weights and maybe, perhaps, quite possibly [little voice] doing a little Billy Blanks Boot Camp up in my family room. [/little voice].
(Ha! Ha! I said “new” and “different”.)
I think someone needs to invent a “workout and burn thousands of calories whilst sitting at your computer balawwwwwging” dvd because dudes, that would rule.

I left out the confession in which I confess to having not yet showered today.

I am quite sure that there are a great number of people who roll their eyes when I talk about Aerobic Dance Class. “We get it, woman, you like to dance aerobically, ENOUGH ALREADY!” I know. I KNOW, and yet, I can’t stop myself from writing about it.
I don’t write about every single class, because that would be annoying, but every once in a while, something brilliant will happen (DANCE OFF!) or I’ll have a “light bulb” moment whilst doing a “Funky Chicken” type move and I must write about it.

Last week, my AD instructor busted out with The White People Dances, specifically, The Irish Dance.
As soon as Anna said “Irish Dance” I mourned for my calves and how they would feel in the morning. Have you people seen the River Dance? All of those cute little jumping movements that they do whilst holding their hands sweetly at their sides?
Crap. My calves! They ache!
Confession: I almost cried during The Irish Dance. (FUCK YOU IRISH MUSIC!) I couldn’t explain it if I tried. One minute, I’m doing this crazy ass “white people” move in which I’m jumping up and down at a very high rate of speed and the next there are tears welling up in my eyes because of the sound of those asshole bagpipes. (Fuck you, bag pipes!) I do not know what came over me, but I was THIS CLOSE to “losing it” and I have no idea why. (Although, I’m pretty sure it was the damn bagpipes.)
Confession #2: I took a short break after writing confession #1 so that I could go unload the dishwasher and you know how my shitty cabinets do not close all of the way? Well, I was coming up from putting something in the bottom cabinet and I whacked the front side of my hide head on with the corner of the cabinet and I thought I split it open and while I didn’t get all “OMG! I AM PARALYZED!” like I did when I fell off of the plastic chair, I DID run to the mirror to see if there was blood. There was NOT blood, but there was, however, a “mark” and um, I feel a little dizzy now and um, it’s freaking me out because OMG! I COULD HAVE A BRAIN BLEED AND NOT KNOW IT!
Confession #3: I’m not doing so well with “The Weight Loss” and have put on a significant amount of weight. 15 pounds, but it looks like a lot more than that, because all of the toning that happened with the weight training has turned to fat and ack, it’s not good. I took a picture that I planned on posting, but, I feel embarrassed to post it right now. Maybe tomorrow. Why did I gain weight back? I’ll tell you why. I got sick of going to the gym every night (but I did not get tired of Aerobic Dance and continue to go to that, but, 2 nights a week of AD does NOTHING for weight loss. Especially when one is eating assloads of bread.) I got sick of counting points. I got sick of worrying about every single thing that I put in my mouth. I got sick of talking about weight loss, of thinking about it every waking minute of every single day. I got tired of ALL OF IT and I gave up and gave in to my desires to eat whatever I wanted and to be lazy. I just said “screw it all.”
Of course, I regret it now. All of that hard work, down the drain. Ok, not all of it, I’m no where NEAR as fat as I was when I started this journey, but still. I should be at my goal by now and I’m not. That pisses me off.
I plan on getting back “with the program” because I felt so much better when I was eating healthy and working out. And, as pissed off as I am, I refuse to let this stop me from reaching my goal. I’ve had a major setback, but it’s not the end of the world. (It is, however, the end of wearing the really cute skirts I had bought from Old Navy for at LEAST a month. Damn it.)
Confession #4: I am in love with Arbor Mist Sangria.
Confession #5: I have no idea how to end this post, so I’m just going to go ahead and end it here.

Me so Aerobic

Last night was The Second Return to Aerobic Dance Class.
You see, I had been avoiding it since the night that I had decided it would be a great idea to wear a thong to class.
I always wear my granny panties to class, because they are comfortable and I want to be comfortable when I’m doing great moves, such as The Monkey. Here’s the thing. My Aerobic Dance instructor is adorable and I love her and I secretly want to be just like her, Russian accent and all.
The other night, I got the crazy idea to be just like Anna and NOT wear granny panties, but instead, to wear the ONE thong that I own. (Which, haha, is about a whole size too small.) I was all “I want to be sexy when I’m bending over during the stretches just like Anna!”
About 5 minutes into the dance (which happened to be “The Latin Dance”.) I realized that I had made a huge mistake by wearing the thong to dance class. The first time that I took a step, my ass opened up and swollwed that thing WHOLE and OMG! PAIN! EMBARASSMENT! SHAME! But mostly… PAIN!”
All I could think about was how obvious it must have been to everyone behind me that my ass had eaten my thong and I couldn’t think about anything but “the missing thong.” I was trying to get into the dance, to be one with the dance, to let my aerobic dance greateness shine through like it always does, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid thong. Anna would be all “Mambo!” and I would be all “SHIT! THONG! UP MY ASS! CAN’T.MOVE!”
I may as well have worn a blinking sign on my ass that night.
(Oh Em Gee, is she avoiding talking about her previous entry? I think she is!)
That was the first time that I did not enjoy an aerobic dance class. The first time that I almost faked getting injured so that I could leave class early. The first time that I walked out saying “I’LL NEVER GO BACK AGAIN!”
(Oh, so hilarious when I get all cinematically dramatic about aerobic dance class.)
God, that sounds so dumb. Vowing to never do something that I love so much because my ass decided to “chew a little fiber”, wounding my precious crack and quite possibly my pride. But? I hadn’t gone back since that class.
Until last night.
Do I need to tell you that I didn’t wear a thong, but, rather, a very large pair of pale blue cotton panties that have pictures of “water wells” scattered about?
When Anna saw me, she asked me where I had been for all of these weeks, because she’s missed me “so much.” I thought about it for a second. “UM, how do I tell this women that I haven’t been here because I was humiliated when the thong that I wore in a lame attempt to be just like her, was viciously chewed up and swallowed by my buttocks?”
“I’ve just been lazy.” I blurted out.
“Oh, don’t be lazy! Come! Dance! I need you here.”
(Oh my God! She needs me! Anna needs me!)
And then, she did the greatest thing that anyone has done for me in like 4 whole days and said “Well, I’m happy you’re here! Tonight, we do The Dirty Dance.
My God, I love that woman.
But not as much as I love thrusting my hips to a beautiful melody and “Then you roll your tongue, from the crack back to the front” blasting from the speakers.

The Dance of Dirty.

On Wednesday night, whilst doing the aerobic dirty dance, The Aerobic Dance Instructor gave me the ultimate compliment.
So perfect, Y. I must take picture because it’s so perfect.”
I believed her when she said it and left the class swollen with pride and cockiness. I came home and told Tony “I think my instructor REALLY loves having me in her class, because I keep up with her and know all the moves.”
After watching myself do The Dirty Dance on video, I’m PRETTY DAMN SURE that her compliment wasn’t sincere and that she was secretly mocking me, knowing that compliments only encourage me to “try even harder” and “take the dance even more seriously than I already do, which TRUST ME, is VERY seriously.”
I wish I could tell you that “Haha, I just have fun with it and don’t take it seriously at all.” But, the faces that I make whilst spanking the air would prove that to be A LIE.
(There may be a subliminal message hidden somewhere in the video and that subliminal message may very well be “Look! I wasn’t lying when I said that I gained 10 pounds back, except it was actually TWELVE POUNDS, but hey, I’ve lost 5 of the twelve, thank you Aerobic Dancing.)

Aerobic Dance Crack.

Thank you all so much for the birthday wishes. Honestly? (Which, honestly? Is my new favorite word. And, honestly? It bugs the ever living crap out of my husband. But, honestly? The fact that it irritates me makes me want to use it all of the time because honestly? I’m a brat.) The birthday wishes that you all left here for me was my second favorite part of turning THIRTY FIVE. The best and most favorite part was the birthday card/present that my husband gave me in which he misspelled the word “beautiful.”

I swear. I love that man a little more everytime he tries to be “Romantic”. (And I use the word “tries” VERY LOOSELY.)
The truth is, I was feeling rather panicky and scared about turning 35. “Thirty five? That’s only FIVE away from forty! FORTY! OH MY GOD! My life is half over and I’m still renting a house and… fat! And OMG! I’ll never be young and pretty again!”
Those were the kinds of thoughts that were running through my head the night before I turned 35. Then, I read the most beautiful comment from The Beautiful Grace and everything changed.

Please, dollin, you’re not old. 105 is old. Anyone younger than that has a chance for growth, pleasure and love.
Love your age, dear Y. It’s who we are.
Trust me on this, Joy Readers. I speak from the vantage point of my happy, upbeat 51 year old self.

Those words gave me comfort and hope. Yes, HOPE! Because, you know how I tend to be “Dramatic”? I honestly (HONESTLY!) was feeling as though my life were almost over because…THIRTY FIVE! But after reading that comment, I tried to change my way of thinking. I kept repeating “105 is old! You’re only 35! You’re not old! Have fun! Enjoy life, you young thang, you!” I was like “Screw this I’m old crap! I’m going to LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST!”
To some people, that might mean “signing up to jump out of an airplane” or “go swimming with dolphins” but to me? It meant “Time to start eating fruit and get back to the gym!” So, I put on my stretchy yoga pants, I doubled up my sports bras, grabbed me a cup of that healthy stuff called “water” and headed for Aerobic Dance Class.
On the way there, I was positively motivated and feeling like “This is going to be The Year.”
The year I get healthy. The year I make peace with my body. For good. The year that I become a better mother. The year that I learn to forgive. The year that I let it all go.
Also? The year that I reclaim my title as The Greatest Aerobic Dancer to Have Ever Danced Aerobically.
I arrived to the gym to find out that Bitchy Step Class Wimmins had won and that the schedule was changed to accommidate their needs and wishes. If I sound bitter in saying that, your ears do not decieve you. I am bitter. Bitter that they got their way, bitter that because of them, I have to wait until 7:45pm to Dance Aerobically, bitter that “Steppers” have more “pull” then the “Aerobic Dancers.” I’m bitter that the woman who started the whole “we should change the schedule to better fit MY NEEDS” didn’t even show up to the damn class. I’M BITTER ABOUT ALL OF IT, MAN.
When the sculpting class was over, I excitedly made my way to the front of the class and waited for Anna The Instructor to acknowledge my presence. (I admit it, I LIVE for her acknowledgment.) She did and then, she acknowledged my desire to “live life to the fullest” by announcing that “tonight, we will do The Dirty Dance.”
I was in a state of “I’m so excited that my mouth is watering uncontrollably” for a good minute and a half, but then, I looked around the room and was like “OMG! I’m going to dirty dance with THESE WOMEN?”
Now, I don’t mean that in a judgemental way, I mean that in a “How am I going to be able to dance dirtly and sexily with women wearing spandex shorts and HEADBANDS?” And honestly? I was wearing a gray shirt with the word “EVERLAST” written in giant letters across my chest. Not the greatest attire to get one in the mood to Dance Dirty.
Still, I was more excited than one should be at the prospect of doing The Dirty Dance in the aerobics room at a cheesy little gym.
At first, it felt a little ackward. Touching my body whilst doing hops and hip thrusts in a room full of strangers in spandex is just… weird. But, after a few minutes, I started concentrating on the music and how it felt to move my body in that way and I really got into it.
I should be embarrassed to admit this, but there was a moment where I was bent over, running my hands up my thighs where I got a little choked up. I closed my eyes and let myself really get into the movement and I started to feel in tune with my body in a way that I never had and I could feel the tears welling up inside of me and was like “OMG Y NO! DO NOT CRY IN AEROBIC DANCE CLASS FOR THAT IS BEYOND DUMB AND JUST STOP THIS CHEESY CRAP RIGHT THIS MINUTE” and that was the EXACT MOMENT where I heard the words “Lick my pussy and my crack” and the love for my body that I felt inside of my soul vanished and was replaced with “OMG’S” and “HAHAH’S” Because OH MY GOD. AND HA HA HA!”
You see, Anna The Instructor is from Russia. She came to America only 9 months ago and didn’t know any English at all. She can speak it, but very broken and she has a hard time understanding many words. So, when I heard the Unedited version of This Song (OMG! THAT SONG!) blasting out of the speakers, I couldn’t help but think “Does she know what they’re saying? And that there are women here who will possibly be offended? ”
I was NOT offended. Infact, I was the OPPOSITE of offended, if there is such a thing. I was like “THIS IS THE GREATEST THING TO HAVE EVER HAPPENED IN DANCE AEROBICS. Even better than The Dance Off because I was rubbing my legs and thrusting my hips whilst doing a “spanking” motion** to a song in which a woman is all My neck, my back lick my “OMG” and my “HAHA!”.
I wish you all could have been there. I’m telling you, it was awesome, people. Totally, purely, most defininetly AWESOME. I don’t know how I lived my life without this class for three entire months.
**I’m charging the batteries to my camera as I type this so that I can record myself doing That Move because HOLY CRAP! Air Spanking is dirt-ay!? I just hope I can get up the nerve to actually POST the footage because not sure that I want The Internet to see ALL OF THIS doing ALL OF THAT.


Last night was The Return to Aerobic Dance Class.

I was told that the class started at 6:00, so in order to make sure to get my spot (yes, I have a spot), I arrived a half hour early. My cousin arrived at the same time. She also takes her Aerobic Dance very seriously.

Once we got inside, we took a look at the schedule and realized that the class was at 7:00! Not 6:00! My cousin was all “Well, we could workout while we’re waiting, lift some weights and stuff.”

I offered a completely different suggestion.

“True, true, we could do that, and we probably SHOULD do that, but, and hear me out on this, we could go get a smoothie!”

At first she looked at me like I was crazy. But then she was all “Sure, why not!”

Well, a “Smoothie” turned into a “Chicken sandwich from ChickFilA.” Because of course it did!

(I hadn’t eaten dinner was my excuse.)

When we got back, Anna was waiting by the door. I wanted to run up to her and throw myself upon her to thank her for returning from Russia because OH.MY.GOD, how I’ve missed her and her sweet buttocks moves. Instead, I just told her how happy I was to see her and how much I missed her over the summer. She told me that had been back for a month and that every time she’d come to class, she was hoping I’d be there because She missed me.

The step class FINALLY ended and my cousin and I practically knocked bitches down trying to be the first ones in so that we could get our places at the front of the room. We were greeted (but actually more like “attacked!”) by the Bitchy Women of Step Class. They were all “So, um, like we were thinking that we could do the sculpting class before the dance class because we want to do sculpting now and if you have dance first, then we’ll have to wait until AFTER the dance class to do sculpting. We don’t want to wait and we don’t want to take the dance class, so it just makes sense for us to move your class time.

Inside I was all like “OH HELL NAW.” Those women just pissed me off and I was ready to fight with them when suddenly one of the girls from step class lost her shit.

“I DON’T FUCKING THINK SO.” She shouted from the back of the room. “You can’t be changing the schedule because it’s convenient for you.”

The Bitchy Women of Step Class were NOT expecting that response. No one knew what to say. But then someone from step class “stepped up” to the plate (ha ha ha) and It. Was. On.

Representative of the Step Class Bitches: “Well, hey we don’t want to wait and it just makes sense. Don’t be getting an attitude with me, lady.”

Crazy Aerobic Dancer: “You’re not in charge here! You guys don’t have the power to change the schedule whenever it suits you. Screw that!”

Representative of the Step Class Bitches: “We didn’t think it’d be a big deal, calm down!”

Crazy Aerobic Dancer: “Why don’t you get a job?”

Representative of the Step Class Bitches: “Excuse me? GET A JOB?”

Crazy Aerobic Dancer: “Yeah, you heard me right. GET A JOB IF YOU WANT TO BE THE BOSS, BECAUSE YOU SURE AS HELL AREN’T THE BOSS OF ME.”\


Representative of the Step Class Bitches didn’t have a comeback, so she was all “Um… yeah, well… um, I bet YOU make a sucky boss!!”

At which point I lost it and started laughing hysterically because HAHHAHAHAHA WIMMINS BE FIGHTING ON THE AEROBIC DANCE FLOOR HAHAHHAHAHA.

Part of me wanted to interrupt and be like “Hey, why don’t we channel all of this anger and hatred into something more positive, something like An Aerobic Dance Off! but then, part of me was hoping it would escalate and there’d be a full on brawl because HAHAHHAHAH OLD WIMMINS IN SPANDEX FIGHTING AT THE GYM!

Sadly, there was no dance off nor were any punches thrown as Representative of the Step Class Bitches had her ass handed to her in the war of words and slowly backed out of the class.

Once the screaming match was over and everyone had composed themselves, Anna announced that we would not be doing “The Dirty Dance” until another night. What? The Dirty Dance?!
Apparently, the week before, she did The Dirty Dance! And I missed it! She said that it was like “You know, how you say, Stripper moves?” She made me a promise to teach The Dirty Dance again very soon. Oh, I can not wait!

The dance class itself was great. We did The Latin and this time? I nailed it. However, at one point during the class, I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror. I could see the fat jiggling on my arms and OH MY GOD, I’ve gained so much weight! My once semi toned arms and now lumpy chunks of fat. I became disgusted with what I saw and I wanted to run out of there and hide.

But! I didn’t! I kept going! As much as I wanted to quit and give into the ugly voices in my head, I didn’t. I mambo’ed and cha cha cha’ed my way through the class and at the end, I felt so proud of myself for getting back in the game, even though I’d much rather be curled up in a ball on the couch eating chocolate covered pretzels.

Come home soon, sweet Aerobic Dance Instructor.

When my Aerobic Dance Instructor announced that she’d be leaving for Russia for the summer, I knew that I’d miss Aerobic Dance Class, but I had no idea just how much I’d miss it.
I hate “freestyling” at the gym. I hate it with a passion.
Machines are boring. One minute on the eliptical feels like 2 hours. I try everything to distract myself from the stupid little red timer in the hopes that it will go faster if I stop obsessing over each passing second. I put my towel over the timer, I read a magazine, I watch the TV with no sound, I think about people that I hate and how I’m going to kill them with my new muscular body, I think about Teh Sex and how I sure look forward to having it again someday when my husband finally decides to get his Shit Snipped, I think about my babies and ponies and rainbows and bloggers and…and…THEN I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE AND I LIFT UP THE TOWEL TO DISCOVER THAT ONLY 48 SECONDS HAS PASSED.
Not only are the machines boring, but they are dirty. I find myself dry heaving everytime I go to use a machine after a fellow gymmate has used it to find Sticky Ass Sweat lingering on the seat. HELLO? That is what the towel you are carrying around is for, you dirty pig.
Then there’s the issue of me being completely unable to control my gas whilst using any machine that involves the squeezing together of my legs. I try to be all “Yeah, I farted, SO WHAT?” about it, but honestly, farting at the gym amongst women who are walking around trying to prove that they are BETTER HUMAN BEING THAN YOU because they use 8 pound weights (as opposed to your lame little 5 pounders)makes me feel bad about myself.
Can we talk about the women who hog the machines now? Obviously, these are women who have no clue about the proper way to “work out” because everyone knows that 3 SETS OF 12 IS ENOUGH. Sitting there doing 100 leg presses isn’t going to win you a special place in Gym Heaven, so STEP OFF AND GIVE SOMEONE ELSE A TURN.
I miss the days where I could just get to the gym early, to “stretch and get prepared to own the aerobic dance floor with my totally awesome moves and burn a buttload of calories in the process.
No wiping other people’s ass sweat, no waiting for stupid people to share the machines, no boringness. Just pure, sweet, calorie burning dancing.
I hope she plans on coming back. I do not know what I’ll do if I find out that she’s gone forever. Seriously.

The moves will live on. Oh yes, they will.

I was getting ready for Aerobic Dance class when a little voice reminded me of the sign I saw the last time that I was at the gym. The sign said “There will be a new class schedule as of June 1.” I thought I should call the gym to make sure they hadn’t gone and messed with the time of MY Class.
“Hi, this is The Greatest Aerobic Dancer your gym has ever known and I’m just calling to make sure that Aerobic Dance is still at 6:00.”
As she was giving me the answer to my question, the room started to spin, I felt dizzy.
“Anna… Russia… all summer… kickboxing instead…”
The room started spinning. I felt weak and dizzy. What? Huh? After a few minutes, the reality of what she had just said started to soak in.
I know you probably think I’m being overly dramatic, but people! I live for The Aerobic Dance. The Aerobic Dance Floor is the one place in my life that I completely confident. And even when I’ve made mistakes, (which was HARDLY EVER) there’s no denying that was still pretty much the Greatest AD to have ever danced aerobicly.
And thanks to my instructor who just HAD to go “visit her son”(which, whatever lady.) THAT HAS ALL BEEN RIPPED AWAY FROM ME.
I guess deep down I always knew it wouldn’t last forever, I certainly didn’t expect for it to be taken away so soon, so suddenly. I’m going to need a few days to let the enormity of this continue to soak in.
Goodbye Aerobic Dance Class. How I’ve loved you. How I’ll miss you. Oh, dear GOD IN HEAVEN, how I’ll miss you. But! I will never forget you. I will always remember. ALWAYS.
Long live The Monkey!


Last night I was excited to get back into “the gym scene” as I have slacked off lately.
I’ve missed 3 Aerobic Dance classes in a row. Which is a record for me because I NEVER miss Aerobic Dance Class.
Imagine my HORROR when some lady who I do not know stood at the front of the class to announce that Anna had cancelled and there would be “no Dance today.” Instead, it would be just regular ol’ aerobics.
Regular ol’ aerobics are DUMB.
I wanted to walk out, but I was in “my spot” in the front of the room and didn’t want to look like a poor sport, but inside? I was throwing the biggest tantrum. And I was kind of mad at Anna, how dare she get sick, or too busy to come and teach me new moves. HOW DARE SHE.
The class started and I couldn’t stop rolling my eyes. No! Seriously. I kept rolling my eyes and sighing. IT WAS SO DUMB.
About halfway through the Dumbest Routine Ever, she decided to throw in a few token, but TOTALLY DUMB dance “moves.” If you can even call them “moves.”
At that point, my eyes almost got stuck in the back of my head from the rollage because DO NOT EVEN TRY TO PRETEND LIKE YOU ARE AEROBIC DANCE INSTRUCTING, YOU POSER.
I really was hating the instructor at this point, because The Lameness was overwhelming, but then, she said five little words and TOTALLY REDEEMED HERSELF.
Make the moves your own.
Sweet Mother of Aerobic Dance. She had just given me permission to bust out my Aerobic Dance Greatness. I don’t think she realized the monster she was unleashing by uttering those words because HOLY CRAP, people, DID I EVER MAKE THE MOVES MY OWN.
I’m embarrassed now that I think about it, but in the heat of the moment, I truly thought I was “The Shit.”
She was all “Let’s do the charleston.”
So, we did the Charleston and about halfway through, I decided it was time to kick it up a notch and show her what I was made of and um, the part where you kick back? I went down to the floor and SLAPPED THE GROUND.
It took her a few times to notice, but you better believe she noticed. She was all “Whoa, look at how low she can go.”
Recognition from the intructor ACHIEVED.
Obviously, she was not aware of the fact that it’s best to NOT encourage me.
The chick behind me didn’t like the fact that I was being singled out for my greatness. She also was in awe of my TOTALLY AWESOME “Slap the ground” move and decided it was time (try to) OUT FREESTYLE AEROBIC DANCE ME.
She started doing all of these crazy moves, which made me feel like I had to “one up” her and so then I started doing these crazy moves right back at her and OMG. She wasn’t intimidated and broke out this one really awesome move (which, it kills me to admit that, but damn, why didn’t I think of hopping on one leg first?) Before you know it, we’re in this FULL ON (silent) AEROBIC DANCE WAR and OMG! I started to panic inside which caused me to get desperate and do things I NEVER would have thought I’d do on the Aerobic Dance Floor.
At this point, I think the instructor caught on to what was happening because, SERIOUSLY PEOPLE, it was pretty damn obvious and OH MY GOD, I can’t stop laughing just thinking about it because I MADE AN ASS OUT OF MYSELF but, because I think I am the Greatest Aerobic Dancer to have ever lived, I couldn’t stop myself. But, back to the instructor. She knew what was going on and wasn’t sure how to handle it. It’s like, she knew she’d have to declare “A winner” somehow, someway before a)someone got hurt by busting out a dangerous move b) someone got punched in the vagina because, honestly, don’t EVEN try to step to this, biznitch.
This is the part where I start to cry on the inside again because a winner was clearly chosen and it was NOT me.
The instructor liked one of the moves that my competitor busted out and said something like “Look at her go.” (And here is where I admit that I FULLY thought she was talking about me, until she verbalized what the move looked like and I realised that I hadn’t done that move.) Then, and, this is the part that hurts SO BAD, she asked the girl to stay after class to “brainstorm some new moves” after class because she really liked her moves.
As if having my ass handed to me in a silent aerobic dance off wasn’t heartbreaking enough, I had to come home and read that my sweet, beautiful, partially deaf Elliot was voted off of American Idol. I kind of hate America for that, but not as much as I hate that obviously blind and very dumb dance instructor for not having choosen ME as The Winner.