Skip to main content

Work, Love, Dance, Sing and Live

There is a saying I have always loved:
"Work as if you have no money. Love as if you have never been hurt. Dance like no one is watching. Sing like no one is listening. And live everyday as if it were your last."
I have always thought that it is a wonderful way to live your life. But today I found an exception to one of them. To the blond skinny chick in my aerobics class: Do NOT dance like no one is watching. Because we are. And you look like a dork.

In class I'm a back row kind of gal. Back row, center if I get there on time. That way I can see what's going on and I don't get paranoid that the person behind me is staring at my ass, wondering just how many jelly donuts I had for breakfast. But this blond chick marched right in and stood next to the instructor, about two feet away. That's pretty close in the aerobics world. Every single other person in the room was a deferring 5 feet behind the teacher. But not blondy! Oh, no! She was right there in the action. So I thought, "Well, she's confident. Nothin' wrong with that! Maybe she used to teach this class or something. She's probably really good."

The music starts and suddenly, without any rebel-yell warning blondy starts flailing her arms and throwing her head around. Yikes. It became clear that SOMEONE was going to sustain an injury. Either self inflicted from laughing or from the blond windmill herself. She needed a girlfriend in the class. Someone to say, "Honey, Honey, Honey! You look like a loon! Why don't you just stick some toilet paper on your shoe and smear lipstick on your teeth to complete the image?!" Alas, no such friend spoke up. (Not that I blame her! I would have blended into the background, too.) And besides, that's probably a conversation best left for margarita night. "Hey, Blondy, how's that 'rita? Oh, good, good. Listen, there is something I need to tell you...and it's not going to be easy. So I'm just gonna blurt it out, ok? Alright, here it is: when you dance in aerobics class every other person there either draws back in horror at the sight or snickers about it. I've heard that there is even a blog out there where you are described ... so ... I'm really sorry but you need to reel it in, Sweetie."

The Blog of Bex


I hear that Diesel over at Humor Blogs is a pretty good dancer...check him out!

Comments

Beck said…
Oy, I know just the type. It's not reserved for a blonde tho. Why is it that clueless aerobics class-takers always step right in front of you and proceed to "exercise" like total idiots. Save it when there's more personal space! I don't even want to mention the stealth girl farters. Yes some of them drop big ol' bombs and then walk away. Who knew... sluts.
Bex said…
Hiya, Beck. I only run into stealth girl farters when I'm at the bookstore. Yep, Borders brings them out of the friggin' woodwork. Why? I dunno. But I am now trained, whenever I shop there, to breathe through my mouth. Bitches.
The epileptic seizure-styled dancing wouldn't bother me bit. Mostly because I'd be blinded to my surroundings thanks to the rivulets of sweat pouring into my eyes.
Memarie Lane said…
There was a lady like that at church yesterday. But when I see people do stuff like that I can't help but admire their lack of inhibitions. Even if they look crazy, at least they're doing it, you know? I don't even know if I can dance or not because I'm to embarrassed to try. Even when I'm alone.
Anonymous said…
LOL, what a coincidence, I just used the "dance like nobody's watching" quote on my blog this morning.

Popular posts from this blog

Florida: The Good. The Bad. The Holy SHIT!!!

So you know...I live in Florida now. The good news is that my southern accent is stronger than ever - I think it was some sort of defense mechanism...of or for what, I have no idea. I definitely miss Atlanta and my friends, though, especially now. Spring in Atlanta is SO beautiful. But Florida is pretty nice, too. We go to the beach at least once a week and we all love having a pool in the backyard. Also, my husband makes me a Planter's Punch every night and I don't even feel guilty by knocking it back - we're on vacation, right?? A couple of weeks ago I was reading the news and saw this weird picture: In case your eyes can't make sense of it, I'll give you a hint. It's not a puppy. I'm guessing it's not an air freshener, either. It is, in fact, a Burmese Python that ruptured and now has a really big dead Alligator sticking out of it's stomach. Oh, and something ate the snakes head off. That's why there is no head there. National Geographic has

Oooohhh...I just LOVE when you wrap it around me... do it again, please?

I had heard that "crack" kills. I just never really believed it until I saw it with my own eyes. (Bless his heart.) About 3 years ago I was 6 months pregnant and had two daughters (aged 4 and 5). We were all traveling from Bellingham, WA to Atlanta, GA with a VERY brief layover in Dallas. We were booked on a major airline that should remain anonymous as they are a bunch of asshats (but they rhyme with "Mamerican Mairlines") and we had to leave for the airport at 3:30 AM in order to catch our 7AM flight. It was Suck City. By the time our car arrived in Seattle my husband and I were barely speaking to each other and the girls had marks on their faces and arms from the backseat smack-down they had while out of our reach. When I went to the counter to speak with the representative she informed me that even though our seats had been purchased many months ago and seat assignments had been given all of that had changed and we were no longer sitting together as a family. I

Pervy McPervert strikes again!

When I was a kid I used to make the occasional prank call. But then I turned 13 and decided that it was a fairly retarded way to spend ones time. I've also received a few "heavy breathing" calls in my day. My mom finally bought us a whistle and said that whenever "he" called that we were to blow the whistle as loud as we could into the phone. That worked although I do wish she had specified that before blowing the whistle I should take the receiver away from my head as my ear made this weird ringing noise for days afterward. But it got rid of the pervert. It's a new day, however, and perverts must be looking for new ways to annoy us. Twice today someone has texted a picture to me. I have no idea who he is or what the hell he wants. But he must think that I don't know that sometimes shirtless men squeeze their arms against their chest to give the appearance that they actually have biceps when, in fact, their arms really look like toothpicks that are broke