Ohhh boy!

Ok we know that everyone has been waiting for another post…yeah right. I am working on the consistency part-it’s just hard when you work a million hours every day. And yes I know there are not really a million hours in a day but that is what it feels like. If you know me, you know I say what I think. And there may or may not be a lot of that in this post.

So Zumba. For those of you who don’t know, and have subsequently been living under a rock for the past 5 years, Zumba is a dance workout class. So we get to the friendly (not so friendly) YMCA and hustle up to the classroom. A-we have to hustle because we think we are 15 minutes late B- we are 15 minutes late because the nice (not nice) lady at the front desk would not let me attend the class without giving her my id. Oh yeah because I forgot to mention that I am clearly a terrorist and obviously a sexual predator. We get up the classroom and the class has already started. Dang it! We make our way to the back of the classroom and very awkwardly start joining in. First things first—I notice that EVERYONE is already drenched in sweat so I am thinking to myself, “Dang this must be a really hard class if everyone is like this after 15 minutes”. Then I realize, wow this teacher really does not have very much rhythm. The moves were more like punching and kicking. After a few difficult moves Cara and I look at each other like “What in the world?” We are in the back laughing at ourselves and what complete idiots we are when we hear Workout Barbie yell from the front, “Get it together! This ain’t no dance class!” Workout Barbie say what?!? What we had actually done was join the kickboxing class with 15 minutes left. Embarrassing really because there is no doubt in my mind that when we walked in after everyone had been working out for 30 minutes they thought we were idiots. Which we are.

After we cut our losses with the kickboxing class, we start the Zumba class. Cara and I are feeling pretty good about this because well we were both cheerleaders and high school (meaning we have some pretty good dance moves in our history--Ludacris anyone?) and would like to think that we have pretty good rhythm. We got a spot up front and I knew it was going to be a good class when I saw that the lady in front of me had a uni-braid, tribal ankle tattoo, and wait for it—had graciously worn her red lacy thong with her painted on yoga pants. That is aweome that you have a Rue21 thong on but sweetheart leave it in your pants. Next comes Maria Hernandez, our instructor. And that was not really her name but you get the picture. Here is a visual:

I am going to be real honest…we were hoping for a Zumba class that would pump us up-you know lots of popping it, the occasional shake, and who doesn’t love a good body roll? Well the moves that Maria did with us were not that. AT ALL. Looking back I think all that we really did was move our feet really fast really close together and twirl and twist our hands. That is not our groove and Maria could tell. How? Maybe the fact she came over to stand in front of us 75% of the class. Oh well. I got out of that class in a hurry because no doubt the Zumba groupies were talking about how uncoordinated we were.

Now for a section I would like to call

"Only in Tennessee!"

This weekend I had the chance to go see the Blue Man Group. It was awesome!

It was at TPAC and if you haven't been to a show there--they serve alcohol in the lobby. That was probably most the crowd’s favorite part. By most of the crowd I mean the Nascar loving rednecks that came "into town" to get some culture. Exhbit A-

Ok that sounds harsh I know but let me continue. The Blue Man Group does not talk throughout the entire performance; they play music, videos, do skits etc. So that makes for some silence. Here is a selection of some of the things that were yelled out during the silent moments:

"Oh harder. Do it harder."
(this dear lady was referring to the drums but knew she was making a sexual innuendo and thought she was so funny that she continued to laugh at herself after she yelled this from the balcony.)

“FREEBIRD!!!”
(really sir?)

“Plaaayyy that funnnky muuussiic bluuee booy”
(as you may have noticed there are lots of extra letters in all the words above. That is to accommodate the drunken slur. Plus who even says that?)

Rednecks aside, the show was great! I would see it again in a heartbeat!! Cough cough:::In Chicago, in 2 weeks::cough cough.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving! I am so thankful for my family, friends and such a blessed life! Hope that everyone has a great day with their loved ones! Have a great Wednesday!