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Last night I went to Funk Aerobics for the first time. It was the
(beginning to be) usual mad rush to get from work to class on time, and I
ended up near the back of the class, stretching frantically right before
class began. I'm glad I made an effort to warm up, as the teacher totally
ignored that part of it and went right into the routine.
As I followed her steps (this was before she "broke it down" into slower,
step-by-step instructions and was going at full speed with only the old
students fully following her) I was surprised by the tears in my eyes. I
was actually getting all choked up! I don't know - maybe it was being in
a "dance" class again, using my mind and body to pick up a dance routine,
throwing myself into the moves, dancing again. Or maybe it was the funky
music. I dunno. It was a lot of fun, though, I have to say. We learned a pretty long routine (for an aerobics class) in about 35 minutes, and we did it over and over again. The music has that driving beat that makes you feel stupid if you're only standing still, and the moves were dancey enough to really get behind and perform. I really liked the way she choreographed the routine to the specific piece of music; she'd have us throw our hand on the phrase "out the window" and another routine (that the older people did at the end of the class) had this funky move that ended with people leaning to one side with one hand playing "telephone" on the phrase, "called my girlfriend on the phone". Not only does it make it easier to remember what comes next, but it looks pretty cool, too. Of course, I'm out of practice. That, and I'm trained for jazz - like cabaret or chorus line jazz, not this funky street-dancing stuff. I mean, she did a jazz square and called it "step across" and a grapevine was only "walk to the right". But, more than that, there were all sorts of hip-hop moves with intricately kicking feet, and high knees and those funky hand gestures... And then there's me. Can we say, "White girl"? Oh, it's not too bad, and there were certainly people less funky than me, but I wasn't the funkiest, despite my stage presence. This reminds me of high school when I did a community theatre production of "Fame". Everyone in the dance chorus got to choreograph 16 counts of the title song; we ended up with everything from fouette turns (a ballet step, where they turn around and around on one leg, the other whipping around for momentum) to the funky chicken. And there was more funky than ballet, to be sure. I got that one down, so I don't think Funk Aerobics will always be so hopeless for me; I just gotta stick with it. Ok, here's something that will fall under "too much information" for some of you. Mom, that means you. You've all been warned. Remember when I told you about selling a story to Blowfish Update? (You won't find the story there, but it IS a link to their fab catalog.) Well, I had a choice between $75 product credit or $50 cash - and I took the credit. I finally ordered and got my products, one of which was a lovely Vixen dildo (the "Leo" model, for those who want to know) with blue and white swirls. I showed it to the people at work I could show it to, and I showed it to my housemates when I got home, too. It's so pretty, I considered never using it for anything other than a paperweight, but then thought better of it. I tried it (I won't go into *how*, use your imaginations). Oh, wow. I've never owned a $50 silicon dildo before, but now that I do, I have to ask: Do we REALLY need men? I mean, REALLY? Maybe it's been too long since the real thing (and it has been awhile by my standards), but this was by far the best dildo I've ever tried. No, it doesn't vibrate, it just feels almost real... Now, if they could just simulate the weight of a man's body and a lover's hot breath rushing over your neck, I'd be a very happy camper. Related topic: Maybe it's because of the sex toys, but this week I seem to be playing sex counselor at work. In the past two days, I've recommended toys and products for all sorts of personal and relationship-related sex difficulties. I've told people about stuff they've never even heard of but were thrilled to discover existed. I've pointed them to websites where they can maintain their privacy, I've described various perks to this or that... It's weird. I suppose being able to talk about this stuff without blushing or acting all uncomfortable (plus the fact that I'm sorta part of the sex-positive community out here and somewhat knowledgable) makes me approachable. It feels good, helping people be more comfortable with their sexuality. And it's helping me, too. | ||
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