Thursday, August 2, 2007

Swallow This...

Today I tried a new form of torture at the gym- a class called "Chiseled". Not only did this class kick my ass in every way imaginable, but it also made me feel as if I was living out my own personal sitcom.

The teacher, is probably not a day over 65. Seriously- this lady is easily old enough to be my Mom, but that's where the comparisons end. She has a stomach flatter than my fourth grade chest, legs longer than any joke I'll ever tell and hair styled in a perfect long-haired version of senior-citizen-hottie Barbie. She's wearing a black sports bra, black boy shorts, and a sheer black flamenco scarf tied around her hips.... the fringe sways when she moves. This woman is amazing- and immediately, I start to feel like the fat girl at rush. I'm wearing a crumpled pair of yoga pants, and one of Matt's old t-shirts that says "Beer Ambassador" on the front. Trust me, not a sexy look.

This woman spends the next 60 minutes inflicting such agony, that I had to stop at certain moments and just giggle- because, what else can a person do when a 60+ Barbie starts playing French techno music and starts yelling the following:

"Do you know how many calories are in a pound of fat,ladies? 3,500. Think of that the next time you want to eat a muffin."

"Know what I do when I eat a muffin? I take a bite and spit it out- because, ladies.... you know what they always say...."Never swallow!"

Throughout the class, I learned this woman was a flight attendant for Continental, liked Aretha Franklin, and was extolling the virtues of learning to cook- so everyone around you could get fatter and make you look skinnier. (Seriously!) Her sparkly eye makeup never got smudgey, and she would put us through a torturous repetition of some inhumane movement, and start to count us down- 4-3-2- and then start to tell one of her stories involving a hot guy and a Maserati, and somehow forget that we had lost sensation in our right leg, and then resumed counting- but started back at the beginning.

After the class was done, I staggered out of the room to go and get my kids- when out of the corner of my eye, I see her- in all of her golden sparkly glory, dancing in front of the mirror. Her hair was swaying, her fringe was moving and she waved to me and said "See you Tuesday!" Maybe she will, but I'll probably eat a muffin first. And swallow it, damn it.


Sugar Photography said...

thanks for the blog comment! I'm rolling-your blog is hysterical! I think we might just need to hook up next time I'm in Houston, at least to relieve my stress or provide entertainment while I dabble in the newborn world with my sister for a few days
email me!

Franklin5 said...

My friend Jen (see above: photographer extraordinaire) sent me a link to your blog.

I've now read the whole thing, and have decided that WE SHOULD BE FRIENDS, you and I.

Nightmares about our current administration? Check.

Entirely too many up-close-and-personal encounters with Houston's finest cockroaches. Check, and a warning: the memories will haunt you for years to come.

An unhealthy love for foodie books? Check, and hopefully a double-check that you've read or are reading "Eat, Pray, Love."

A minivan chockfull o' children? Check. And actually, this is where the whole potential friend thing hits a snag. Who's got time for socializing when you're surrounded by needy anklebiters?

Sigh. Well, it was nice knowing you for a bit. Keep up the blogging!