MonkeyPants

Friday Confessions.

So last night was our first time at the new belly dance studio. I peeked in over someone’s shoulder and got an eye full of upside-down, black lycra crotch.

It’s a pole-dance studio.

I was a little overwhelmed, because there were all these lithe bodies gyrating and whatnot, and I’m, well, not lithe. These days I like to think of myself as sleek. Like a big cat. But the class was great fun, because some of the pole dancers danced with us, and they really liked dancing with us. Turns out, the poles are really useful for stretches. I’d be happy to dance there. It’s the women that create the energy in the place, and it was easy to see that everyone was just so happy to be dancing. But, Lord, am I stiff today.

That’s the first confession: I am more out of shape than I thought. I also seem to have misplaced my sense of rhythm and my ability to execute the moves. Did figure eights used to hurt my butt? They do now!

Also, when we were leaving, Rachel pointed out a note on the ‘goals’ board. Someone at the studio’s goal was “Don’t eat cheese this month”. I confess that I could not do this unless there was a valid medical reason. No cheese? Why not just say ‘Don’t breathe this month’?

No gym. That’s becoming a foregone conclusion.

Took time out from a tutoring lesson to teach a kid how to make snowflakes with paper and scissors. Hey, he was reading a book about a snowy day. It was totally topical.

Other than not going to meet John Cusack, which I now think of as a sort of crime on the basis of I didn’t do it and I should have, that’s it. Anything you want to say?