Zumba Diaries

The New Year's risk-it-for-the-biscuit mentality had not worn off yet so I walked into the Unknown Class last night at the gym. I might not have been so bold except that the other students in the class didn't appear to have any of that Fearful Equipment of Specialized Gym Classes whereby you're never quite sure what they do with those hot pink bars and purple elastic bands and bright blue balls? (Question, why are the accoutrements of ladies' gym classes always in the color palette of a Lisa Frank pencil case?) (Question the second: What if you think they're just going to use the pole to balance because you wrongly assume this is tightrope class only to discover within minutes that they do other things around the pole, things for which you are wholly unqualified, WHAT THEN?) (Even if you did own a Carmen Electra DVD once upon a time, which is neither here nor there.)

The teacher for this class queued up the samba music and that's how I knew this was Zumba. I've Zumba-ed before, but by all means, please make an example out of me, Zumba Guru, in front of the class of 45 female strangers. "WHERE'VE YOU TAKEN ZUMBA? OH! A DANCE STUDIO? WHERE? OH. NOT CLOSE TO HERE?" Like when did jazzercise get name-droppy?

This teacher was super body positive and had most likely snorted a long line of cocaine before class because I have never seen a body move like this, at least not a body that did not belong to Sonic the Hedgehog (after he did a long line of cocaine, obvi). This class was very, very fast-paced but the lights were kept low. I don't know if the romance lighting was to enhance the whole body positivity or just add to the samba ambience (sambience?) but it did not keep me from almost decking a group of middle schoolers. And not to be all Mean Girls but who let the middle schoolers in? I would prefer only to jiggle around in public with other women who tinkle a little bit when they laugh or women who own a whole drawer of product labeled "age-defying."

The class was an hour long which was good since if left to my own devices, I will Zumba for four minutes until I feel my deodorant start to work and then I'll sit down and start unfollowing all the youngsters on Instagram who don't own any age-defying products, all while keeping that Zumbatastic beat, of course.

After the hour, it was hard to decide what my favorite Zumba moves were. Was it when I accidentally punched myself in the face and my glasses proceeded to rest slightly askew on the bridge of my nose for the rest of class Now...Grapevine! or was it when I proceeded to do the hip thrust in the wrong direction every single time so that it looked like maybe I was trying to partner dance? Cumbia! Oh oh, I know. I think it was when I got a crick in my neck from whipping it so hard in the manner of Sonic the Hedgehog that I Zumba-limped my way right into a hot bath when I got home. Boom, Pop pop pop, wowww!

LinkedIn makes me itch, 2018 has that new car smell, and other thoughts

LinkedIn is still a boxy place full of bosses, former ones and prospective bosses, small boxes to check and boxes into which we must shoehorn our skillset and lop off the quirks that may make us incredibly valuable but may not necessarily be valued. I click and scroll and read and my shoulders feel freighted by the imaginary shoulder pads I should be wearing in my little box of a profile picture. I can never look proffy enough for LinkedIn.

Random gents from Nigeria attempt to add me to their LinkedIn networks. I receive invites at least daily from complete strangers from Lagos, people whose titles sound like they ripped them from the Lives of the Saints: God's Hands and Feet, Director. Do I want to add this person to my LinkedIn network? Is it my own hubris that I don't want to add someone with the hubris to place the hands and feet of the Almighty as his professional title?

I click on "ignore request" because it all makes me feel a bit icky. Then I am smacked by my own privilege. What licenses me to ignore? Where do I hop on my First World high horse, so jaunty as I wave away these requests for connection. Because I was born under a certain star? Because I stand on the shoulders of giants? Because I would struggle mightily to imagine what it's like to have queued up a website on an unstable internet connection in a place so desolate of opportunity that the only hope one holds is to make a connection, no matter how superficial, because that feels like progress? What is it like to log on to LinkedIn and not feel bewildered by the boxy bossiness, but rather to find endless sea at nighttime, small boats and buoys bobbing with their sails up, tomorrow replete with possibility albeit unknown?

Whereas I can log off and hope for something to work out.

The very fact that I can write this true sentence about my life is some privilege worth confronting: I took the fall off to help the kids transition. Meaning, I chose not to work for someone else but rather worked for myself. In the pajama pants of work-from-home mythology.I booked hair appointments in the middle of the day like a proper Betty Draper. I went to yoga when I wanted, ate snacks at my desk, picked my kids up from school every blessed day. I've enjoyed the leisure of negotiable deadlines and the thrill of hard deadlines and I've even prettied up my professional website so that if the freelance hustle wants to pick itself up? It can.

It is now time to reemerge and inhale that new car smell of 2018. Ironically it smells like a gritty public bus ride to somewhere, somewhere that I'll have the privilege to serve.

Facebook Status Cliches Rewritten As Ballad Lyrics for the Oeuvre of the Late Luther Vandross

I.

And just like that
Just li-i-i-i-ike that!...
I had a seven year-old.

II.

On this day,...
On THIS day. I married my best Myyyy best friend.

III.

This weekend… was one for was one for was one for the books.

IV.

I may not post
Very often
But when I do
When I-I-I-I-I do It’s to share This Groupon This one and only Groupon deal With youuuuuu.

V.

If you see this girl
If you seeee
Thi-i-i-i-is girl today! Make sure you tell her? Ha-a-a-a-a-ppy Birth It's her birth It is her birth Happy B-i-i-i-i-i-rthday.

VI.

Our family
Is growing By two feet One foot Then two-o-o-0 feet! Our precious little family is growing By two feet.

VII.
Hashtag
The Lucki-i-i-i-est
Hashtag
Hash to the tag
Hashtag
Blessed

VIII.
I love you To the moon All the way to the mo-o-o-o-on And all the way Allllll the way Come back, Come back from the moon I love you to the moon and back

IX.
Mom and Baby
Are doing just fine Just fi-i-i-ine We are so!

So!

So

So

So

So

So

In Lo-o-o-o-ove.