Today I signed my official resignation. I designated where I would like my 401k to be distributed--which seriously if you ever have to do this, ask an adult (aka 50+) because you can easily screw that shit up and end up paying the government MASSIVE amounts in taxes. I filled out my "Exit Interview" survey--which let's face it, I was a lot nicer than I could've been. I was tempted to write "ADIOS ASSHOLES", but since my cousin is head of HR I decided against it. I took down all the pictures and other personal touches from my cubicle--including my 2011 John Lennon Calendar which, yes I haven't taken down yet simply because. I have one full day left in the financial field before I embark on to my *hopefully* bright(er) future.
I sat back for a few minutes today and took it all in. At my now bare cubicle and desk--a bareness that strangely made me feel claustrophobic and anxious. At the mounds of paper that were stuffed into my recycling bin--the policies and procedures that it would no longer matter if I didn't have memorized. To the stack of pictures I was taking home with me--it's funny I actually found a picture of my ex in my drawer, which I promptly tore to pieces.
Looking at my empty desk, devoid of personality and charm, it finally hit me that tomorrow is my last day at the job I have inhabited since graduating college.
I'd no longer have to worry about making quotas every month. The constant stress of being fired if my goal wasn't met was released from me. Dealing with the ignorance of humanity on a daily basis is no more-- "No, you cannot apply for a loan if you are on unemployment", "No, we cannot combine credit scores to qualify you", "Yes, you need to come into a branch to sign documents. No your mother cannot sign your documents for you. Why? Because she is not you", "Mame, is there a reason you put your daughter's social security number as your own? Oh, because yours isn't good? No we cannot use that. Yes I understand she lives with you. Yes I understand 'you're good for it'. Why? Because she's 12 and you are not her". I will never have to answer another question about balances or how to improve ones credit--"Well sir, you've applied 19 times for a loan with us in the last 6 months. Yes, we have to pull your credit each and every time. Your score is low because you pull it so often. Yes sir, you should stop doing that". No longer will I have to deal with obese, smelly co-workers, who in fact do not bathe and like to brag about it (oh yes, this woman sits next to me. Right under the air vent. She smells like a mixture of cat piss and mold. I've complained a few times to management, but I guess being pulled into the office and told by HR that you need to start showering isn't enough to bring the point home. And I'm not being mean--this woman is lazy in all forms and would rather sniff *other substances* rather than her own stench). Every two weeks, I won't look at my measly paycheck and think, "Wow! $450 in student loan debt a month for this". No longer will I think about the greedy old men who run the bank, all the while pocketing the majority of my hard-work every month--every year the CEOs and managers take an all expense-paid trip to Florida for "meetings". Yes, these meetings take place poolside, with alcohol beverages flowing and work is the farthest thing from their minds. And I work to furnish these little vacations.
Never again will I have to report to a bank every day. Never, ever again.
It all flew through my mind this afternoon and yes, it made me very happy. I was smiling the majority of the day to tell you the truth. But then there were also a few moments when I had a hard time catching my breath. I felt like any second I was going to start hyperventilating--I was actually on the phone with someone closing up a loan when one of these little spasms hit me. I had to very quickly end the call and go outside to calm down. It was the weirdest experience; to go from such highs to very low, lows. As I sat outside in the bright sun and felt the wind on my face, I realized why I was freaking out.
Deep down, I knew I was gonna miss this place.
Not the job (I've outlined pretty descriptively how much it sucks, so I don't think I need to go there again), but the people. The people I work with every day (sans the smelly neighbor) and commensurate over the bullshit we had to deal with. My "team" is pretty close knit and we are all there for each other no matter what. For example, back in September I had a slight nervous breakdown and didn't sleep for a week. I had to call out 3 days in a row and finally got put on meds to help even me out. In the course of all of this, I heard from each and every one of my co-workers; stating their concern and what not. When I returned to work, everyone was there to help me--my workload was divided by three and they let me ease myself back into full working speed. There were never questions asked or accusations made;everyone just pitched in and helped. And that is our mentality towards everyone--in the past year, every person in my department had some sort of personal tragedy, sickness or needed support in a tough time. And we've all rallied around them. Our job sucked ass, but we built each other up to make it as easy as possible.
And I've been honest with a few of my co-workers about being unhappy and looking for other employment. Instead of resenting me or reporting back to managers, they pushed me forward. "Don't you dare get stuck here," my supervisor has said to be on a daily basis for the last year. If she heard that I had an interview, she would hug me tight and tell me they'd be crazy not to hire me. Pep talks were there after every disappointment and undying support came when needed.
They are the reason I never gave up hope. Why I laughed at the end of each day, instead of cried. Who I rushed to work, just to gossip with. Who I would do anything for without being asked. Who will never be replaced in my eyes.
I think that's why I may cry tomorrow as I leave work for the very last time.I'll hand in my ID badge and I know they'll fill my desk quickly with another young hopeful. I'll be replaced easily, that's for sure with this economy. But deep down I hope that I'm not so easily replaced with my co-workers. I have to face that there are some I may never see again. That our relationship is forever going to change as I pull out of that parking lot. I'll probably hear from them less and less as the months go by. "Out of sight, Out of mind," kind of thing. But as with anything, you hope to leave your mark wherever you go. I truly hope that I have. And that there are times during the day, when they are bullshitting and laughing that they think of me and smile.
I know tomorrow is going to be rough. But I go forward with the hopes of a brighter future--ever mindful of the past and those who helped me get here.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Like Chocolate for Lent....
Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Which for Catholics signifies the beginning of Lent--the holiest time of the year. A time of self-sacrifice, repentance, contrition and forgiveness. For the duration of 40 days, with the culmination being Easter and the rising of our Lord, all believers are meant to go inside of themselves and address their flaws. More importantly, we are meant to pick something to give up to God for Lent--a sacrifice to make us worthy. And why not? Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice for us on the cross; what is giving up meat on Fridays and a personal sacrifice of our own choice? This sacrifice is something we give of our own free-will and is happily given. Really, it's easy.
Or so most would believe.
Ok it is a lot.
Trust me, I do not consider myself an ardent Catholic or believer of sorts. I don't speak about religion,I rarely come out and say that I am in fact Catholic, hardly go to Mass (even on Sundays) and am more than willing to admit that in college I went to Mass every Sunday solely because I was on vocal scholarship and had to sing. Pretty harsh, I admit but I have my own issues with the church which will need to be saved for another blog. In reality, the experience of Catholic school beat the living faith out of me--for lack of a better term. Having religion jammed down your throat for years with no choice in the matter is assuredly not the way to keep the faithless, faithful.
All this being said, I still try and give up something for Lent. Maybe out of habit. Maybe for a sense of accomplishment. Maybe a teeny bit of faith comes in to play. But every year I grapple with picking something to give up. The trick of the matter is to pick something good, something that shows fortitude and strength. The better the sacrifice the braver you are. This was also instilled in me from a young age.
Usually the week before Ash Wednesday, my grade-school would decorate the hallways with banners declaring the sacrifices of its' students. I'm not sure if it was a "Big Brother is Always Watching" mentality, where the students were supposed to actively watch each other for slip-ups and report it back, but that's usually what happened. It was like an active competition--waiting for someone to eat the snack they had given up.
Part of Lent for kids was also daring to give up the most difficult thing you could think of. Something that would win the respect of teachers and admiration of your peers. Like there was always one kid in your class who declared "For Lent, I will not watch TV." Which at the time my chin would drop and "Wow" would be mouthed, wordlessly. But, come on now people, what 10 year old do you know would actually be able to go through with it? There is no way those "brave kids" actually stopped watching TV for 40 days. Sorry. It's not possible in our day and age.
But it was all the thrill and the talk of the sacrifice.
Usually I gave up chocolate. Equally as big as TV for a young kid. I would proudly hand my decorated banner back to my teacher every year, declaring "For Lent, I give up chocolate."
But I had a secret then. A pretty sly and un-catholiclike secret.
I hate chocolate.
I have never liked chocolate. It actually makes me sick. Have you ever been to Max Brenner's downtown? Yeah, full on Willy Wonka. I have been there twice and felt physically sick each and every time. Gag reflux and all. But...that's why I always "sacrificed" it for Lent--because it had the shock value that a kid could respect, and it took no effort on my part. It was the easiest thing for me. I usually made a big scene now and again and would pack a bar or two in my lunch and painfully give it away, but it was all apart of the act. Total cop out on my part, but I was young and didn't truly understand the true meaning of Lent.
And okay.....I kept doing it until I was like 13. So sue me!
Obviously the non-sacrifice, sacrifice isn't cute anymore. If I really want to participate in this one aspect of my faith, I actually have to give up something significant. But thinking of something good is just as difficult.
Here are my options:
1. Beer
Which is an automatic no considering March is national "Get Drunk Month," with St. Patty's day and all.
2.Cursing
Yeah....If you've met me, you'd know the impossibility of this. It's basically in my natural vernacular. I'd fail in a day
3. Gossiping
I'm a woman. Hello.
Obviously none of the above will work. I want to pick something that's actually possible. Difficult. Difficult. Difficult.
Fuck it.
I'm giving up Fast Food and that will be the end of it. I love me some McDonalds and Chik-fila but the sacrifice can be financially and healthily beneficial.
So wish me luck! Happy Lent!
Or so most would believe.
Ok it is a lot.
Trust me, I do not consider myself an ardent Catholic or believer of sorts. I don't speak about religion,I rarely come out and say that I am in fact Catholic, hardly go to Mass (even on Sundays) and am more than willing to admit that in college I went to Mass every Sunday solely because I was on vocal scholarship and had to sing. Pretty harsh, I admit but I have my own issues with the church which will need to be saved for another blog. In reality, the experience of Catholic school beat the living faith out of me--for lack of a better term. Having religion jammed down your throat for years with no choice in the matter is assuredly not the way to keep the faithless, faithful.
All this being said, I still try and give up something for Lent. Maybe out of habit. Maybe for a sense of accomplishment. Maybe a teeny bit of faith comes in to play. But every year I grapple with picking something to give up. The trick of the matter is to pick something good, something that shows fortitude and strength. The better the sacrifice the braver you are. This was also instilled in me from a young age.
Usually the week before Ash Wednesday, my grade-school would decorate the hallways with banners declaring the sacrifices of its' students. I'm not sure if it was a "Big Brother is Always Watching" mentality, where the students were supposed to actively watch each other for slip-ups and report it back, but that's usually what happened. It was like an active competition--waiting for someone to eat the snack they had given up.
But it was all the thrill and the talk of the sacrifice.
Usually I gave up chocolate. Equally as big as TV for a young kid. I would proudly hand my decorated banner back to my teacher every year, declaring "For Lent, I give up chocolate."
But I had a secret then. A pretty sly and un-catholiclike secret.
I hate chocolate.
I have never liked chocolate. It actually makes me sick. Have you ever been to Max Brenner's downtown? Yeah, full on Willy Wonka. I have been there twice and felt physically sick each and every time. Gag reflux and all. But...that's why I always "sacrificed" it for Lent--because it had the shock value that a kid could respect, and it took no effort on my part. It was the easiest thing for me. I usually made a big scene now and again and would pack a bar or two in my lunch and painfully give it away, but it was all apart of the act. Total cop out on my part, but I was young and didn't truly understand the true meaning of Lent.
And okay.....I kept doing it until I was like 13. So sue me!
Obviously the non-sacrifice, sacrifice isn't cute anymore. If I really want to participate in this one aspect of my faith, I actually have to give up something significant. But thinking of something good is just as difficult.
Here are my options:
1. Beer
Which is an automatic no considering March is national "Get Drunk Month," with St. Patty's day and all.
2.Cursing
Yeah....If you've met me, you'd know the impossibility of this. It's basically in my natural vernacular. I'd fail in a day
3. Gossiping
I'm a woman. Hello.
Obviously none of the above will work. I want to pick something that's actually possible. Difficult. Difficult. Difficult.
Fuck it.
I'm giving up Fast Food and that will be the end of it. I love me some McDonalds and Chik-fila but the sacrifice can be financially and healthily beneficial.
So wish me luck! Happy Lent!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Next Chapter.....
So I've been sitting in front of my computer for the last fifteen minutes, trying to compose a blog that accurately expresses what is going through my head right now. Started two really sappy poems and deleted them. Keep turning off my iPod, thinking I could concentrate better. But then my bedroom seems too quiet, so earplugs back in. My only solution is this--to just blurt it out.
So here goes....
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
(but a good one!)
I had a job interview yesterday for an editorial position at a medical publication. It really was a last minute interview (they called me on Monday) and I thought it would be a bullshit, show up and never hear from them again--as has been the case with other places. They asked me to alott for 2 1/2 hours for an editing and writing test (which scared the shit out of me. Who has ever taken a test that intense?) and to be at their office at 8:30am.
After getting lost for 10 minutes (thank you Garmin GPS), I arrived very promptly at 8:15. I was showed into a conference room, handed a 6 page packet and told to get started editing. I did my best--it was an artical on hypertension. A LOT of medical terminology that I hoped was all spelled correctly because I'd have no clue otherwise. After editing, re-editing and reading over three times a whole 15 minutes had passed. I kept flipping through the pages, thinking maybe I missed one. Apparently not. So, I packed up my stuff and headed to the woman from HR's office. I'm pretty sure she was shocked to see me so fast but I handed her the packet and was half expecting her to tell me to get the hell out. Instead she asked me if I'd mind coming back in a half hour because the Head Editor wouldn't be in until 9:30--again they weren't expecting me to be done so quick.
So instead of leaving the parking lot and getting lost (which I knew I would), I curled up in my backseat and took a short nap. After 20 minutes, I returned to the office and sat down with the editor.
She was a bit scary. Intimidating wise. She made it quite clear that she had very little time to speak with me--she cut me off every few minutes and would change the question while I was mid-sentence. I gave her my background, talked myself up, and tried to impress the pants off her. Well--I wasn't sure what she thought of me. First she said, "I like hiring people with no experience because I can train them the right way." Then she hit me with "You have no medical editing experience which you know, isn't the best thing." Okay.....so which is it?
I left, a bit confused and headed back to work--Yes, I'm that employee.
I pretty much figured that was the end of it, I'd tough it out for a few more months and see what happened after that.
Then I got an e-mail alert with the following as the subject "JOB OFFER".
I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously have never been so happy! I put my two weeks notice in today and my last official day "in hell" will be February 29th!
Thanks for listening to me bitch and for the support bloggers. I'm ready to start the next chapter of my life with my head held high :) Now if I could only find a man....
So here goes....
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
(but a good one!)
I had a job interview yesterday for an editorial position at a medical publication. It really was a last minute interview (they called me on Monday) and I thought it would be a bullshit, show up and never hear from them again--as has been the case with other places. They asked me to alott for 2 1/2 hours for an editing and writing test (which scared the shit out of me. Who has ever taken a test that intense?) and to be at their office at 8:30am.
After getting lost for 10 minutes (thank you Garmin GPS), I arrived very promptly at 8:15. I was showed into a conference room, handed a 6 page packet and told to get started editing. I did my best--it was an artical on hypertension. A LOT of medical terminology that I hoped was all spelled correctly because I'd have no clue otherwise. After editing, re-editing and reading over three times a whole 15 minutes had passed. I kept flipping through the pages, thinking maybe I missed one. Apparently not. So, I packed up my stuff and headed to the woman from HR's office. I'm pretty sure she was shocked to see me so fast but I handed her the packet and was half expecting her to tell me to get the hell out. Instead she asked me if I'd mind coming back in a half hour because the Head Editor wouldn't be in until 9:30--again they weren't expecting me to be done so quick.
So instead of leaving the parking lot and getting lost (which I knew I would), I curled up in my backseat and took a short nap. After 20 minutes, I returned to the office and sat down with the editor.
She was a bit scary. Intimidating wise. She made it quite clear that she had very little time to speak with me--she cut me off every few minutes and would change the question while I was mid-sentence. I gave her my background, talked myself up, and tried to impress the pants off her. Well--I wasn't sure what she thought of me. First she said, "I like hiring people with no experience because I can train them the right way." Then she hit me with "You have no medical editing experience which you know, isn't the best thing." Okay.....so which is it?
I left, a bit confused and headed back to work--Yes, I'm that employee.
I pretty much figured that was the end of it, I'd tough it out for a few more months and see what happened after that.
Then I got an e-mail alert with the following as the subject "JOB OFFER".
I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously have never been so happy! I put my two weeks notice in today and my last official day "in hell" will be February 29th!
Thanks for listening to me bitch and for the support bloggers. I'm ready to start the next chapter of my life with my head held high :) Now if I could only find a man....
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Zumba-ing out of " Human Hibernation"
Lately, I've been feeling a little wiggly in certain places and lazy as hell. Energy is down, it's cold out (well every few days it's cold) and there isn't much to do but sit inside with a big bowl of ice cream and watch TV. Usually this is what happens in winter to most--it's sort of like human hibernation, except we all just wish we could sleep for 3 months straight and start our lives up again come spring. Sometimes I truly envy bears and all the other forest creatures who can just sleep through the winter.
Seriously I think it's something our world should consider. Wars could be abated with just a good long nap--hello, aren't most dictators and governments just cranky old men to begin with? It could be the way to World Peace! Maybe?
But lately I've just been stir crazy and wanting to try new things. I've been DYING to get out and be active--to at least go running outside or something. And, bathing suit season, which is the one time of year all women dread, is pressing down on us all. I've been avoiding that side of the department stores for a few months now, not even wanting to think about putting on a bikini. I'm not full of myself or fishing for complements in saying I want to be bathing suit ready because I know I am skinny and the size most women would like to be. But for me, I'd like to be in better shape and kick this lazy streak I've been going through.
So I've been asking myself lately, "Penny, just what is there to do when it's occasionally cold out and running on a tread mill just isn't doing it anymore?"
I had a few ideas.
Cycling.
My one best friend has become a sort of virtuoso with riding and she seems to truly enjoy it. I've also been told that it's very addicting and the adrenaline can be like a drug. It seemed like a perfect fit for me. I've always loved bike riding. My childhood was completely consumed with riding for hours and hours up and down the streets of my neighborhood. It was the freedom of transportation that I wouldn't experience again until I turned 22 and learned to drive (Yes, I did not get my license til I was 22. Stop laughing now, please. Thank you). Here's the problem--my dad gave my bike to a little girl who lives by his work 5 years ago for Christmas when her parents were unable to give any gifts. Besides that, I don't think my bike was exactly cycling appropriate. My friend suggested I look into local gyms for cycling classes.
Did I mention how lazy I've been lately?
So that was out and back to the drawing board.
Rock Climbing.
That same friend has also been getting into rock climbing and she seems to have a blast whenever she goes. And she also said I have a perfect body type for it--my hands and feet are teeny so apparently they are perfect for fitting into little ridges and holes. Here's the problem--where the heck do you rock climb in Philadelphia? They aren't exactly boulders on every corner. The solution again was joining a gym that offered it. There's also one more tiny issue that I probably forgot to mention. I am TERRIFIED of heights. Beyond terrified. I can't go on Ferris wheels, roller coasters, or even glass elevators.
So that was out too.
I had no clue where to go next and my entire "Get Fit or Die," strategy seemed to be going to hell. Very frustrating, let me tell you.
But last week I had a revelation.
Zumba.
Yes Zumba. The latest workout craze that has swept the nation. Wii and other gaming systems have interactive games for it, I watched a thousand people doing it on the Today show, and almost every fitness show raves about how much fun it is . A few of my friends have taken classes and loved it. So last week when my friend Meghan mentioned that her gym was offering classes, I pretty much invited myself to join her for the first class.
We showed up to her gym (ironically called "The Gym") 5 minutes before the class started. But apparently we were late because the class was already in full swing. There was no time for either of us to feel awkward, we literally stripped off our coats and jumped in line with the already full class. Naturally I still felt awkward, it being my first time and not wanting to look like a complete ass in front of perfect strangers. But, that stress was unwarranted--everyone seemed to only be looking at the instructor for the next moves.
Let me tell you, there was no warmup and no beginners moves. Really, there was no instructions. Just watch the instructor and do what she did. You just start and keep going. The steps were mostly in 8 counts, with about 4 sets that were repeated with hand moves to match until the song ended. It's very fast paced and if you weren't watching the instructor--who by the way was a hilarious Hispanic woman who spoke in a mixture of Spanish and English and sang along with the songs--you'd miss the change of steps and end up scrambling to catch up. The music and steps were all latin and salsa based.
Can I tell you I have never shook my ass so much in a one hour period. Trust me, I can get down and dirty and "drop it like it's hot". I have that ghetto-booty that most women would kill for (which I actually hate) but this booty-shaking was much different. It was paced and timed to the music. It was literally shaking and shaking every muscle in your ass. I definitely felt the burn in muscles I did not know existed.
Yeah, it's kinda like this but more intense. And minus the bathing suits.
Song after song played and an hour seemed to pass in 10 minutes. A short ab workout completed the session (which was different as well) and everyone started filing out. Huffing and puffing, my friend and I walked over to our stuff and started hydrating and preparing for the cold that awaited us outside. My friend turned to me and said, "That was awesome. We're coming again next week right?"
Between gulps of water I answered, "Um yeah!"
So I am hooked. Totally loved every minute of it. For all of you nay-sayers out there thinking "Oh it's just dancing. It's not a workout," I have this to say. Let me tell you honey, I have not sweated that much in months. And the BO seeping out of that room after we left was proof enough for me.
Try it blogosphere! And tell em Penny sent ya!
Seriously I think it's something our world should consider. Wars could be abated with just a good long nap--hello, aren't most dictators and governments just cranky old men to begin with? It could be the way to World Peace! Maybe?
But lately I've just been stir crazy and wanting to try new things. I've been DYING to get out and be active--to at least go running outside or something. And, bathing suit season, which is the one time of year all women dread, is pressing down on us all. I've been avoiding that side of the department stores for a few months now, not even wanting to think about putting on a bikini. I'm not full of myself or fishing for complements in saying I want to be bathing suit ready because I know I am skinny and the size most women would like to be. But for me, I'd like to be in better shape and kick this lazy streak I've been going through.
So I've been asking myself lately, "Penny, just what is there to do when it's occasionally cold out and running on a tread mill just isn't doing it anymore?"
I had a few ideas.
Cycling.
My one best friend has become a sort of virtuoso with riding and she seems to truly enjoy it. I've also been told that it's very addicting and the adrenaline can be like a drug. It seemed like a perfect fit for me. I've always loved bike riding. My childhood was completely consumed with riding for hours and hours up and down the streets of my neighborhood. It was the freedom of transportation that I wouldn't experience again until I turned 22 and learned to drive (Yes, I did not get my license til I was 22. Stop laughing now, please. Thank you). Here's the problem--my dad gave my bike to a little girl who lives by his work 5 years ago for Christmas when her parents were unable to give any gifts. Besides that, I don't think my bike was exactly cycling appropriate. My friend suggested I look into local gyms for cycling classes.
Did I mention how lazy I've been lately?
So that was out and back to the drawing board.
Rock Climbing.
That same friend has also been getting into rock climbing and she seems to have a blast whenever she goes. And she also said I have a perfect body type for it--my hands and feet are teeny so apparently they are perfect for fitting into little ridges and holes. Here's the problem--where the heck do you rock climb in Philadelphia? They aren't exactly boulders on every corner. The solution again was joining a gym that offered it. There's also one more tiny issue that I probably forgot to mention. I am TERRIFIED of heights. Beyond terrified. I can't go on Ferris wheels, roller coasters, or even glass elevators.
So that was out too.
I had no clue where to go next and my entire "Get Fit or Die," strategy seemed to be going to hell. Very frustrating, let me tell you.
But last week I had a revelation.
Zumba.
Yes Zumba. The latest workout craze that has swept the nation. Wii and other gaming systems have interactive games for it, I watched a thousand people doing it on the Today show, and almost every fitness show raves about how much fun it is . A few of my friends have taken classes and loved it. So last week when my friend Meghan mentioned that her gym was offering classes, I pretty much invited myself to join her for the first class.
We showed up to her gym (ironically called "The Gym") 5 minutes before the class started. But apparently we were late because the class was already in full swing. There was no time for either of us to feel awkward, we literally stripped off our coats and jumped in line with the already full class. Naturally I still felt awkward, it being my first time and not wanting to look like a complete ass in front of perfect strangers. But, that stress was unwarranted--everyone seemed to only be looking at the instructor for the next moves.
Let me tell you, there was no warmup and no beginners moves. Really, there was no instructions. Just watch the instructor and do what she did. You just start and keep going. The steps were mostly in 8 counts, with about 4 sets that were repeated with hand moves to match until the song ended. It's very fast paced and if you weren't watching the instructor--who by the way was a hilarious Hispanic woman who spoke in a mixture of Spanish and English and sang along with the songs--you'd miss the change of steps and end up scrambling to catch up. The music and steps were all latin and salsa based.
Can I tell you I have never shook my ass so much in a one hour period. Trust me, I can get down and dirty and "drop it like it's hot". I have that ghetto-booty that most women would kill for (which I actually hate) but this booty-shaking was much different. It was paced and timed to the music. It was literally shaking and shaking every muscle in your ass. I definitely felt the burn in muscles I did not know existed.
Song after song played and an hour seemed to pass in 10 minutes. A short ab workout completed the session (which was different as well) and everyone started filing out. Huffing and puffing, my friend and I walked over to our stuff and started hydrating and preparing for the cold that awaited us outside. My friend turned to me and said, "That was awesome. We're coming again next week right?"
Between gulps of water I answered, "Um yeah!"
So I am hooked. Totally loved every minute of it. For all of you nay-sayers out there thinking "Oh it's just dancing. It's not a workout," I have this to say. Let me tell you honey, I have not sweated that much in months. And the BO seeping out of that room after we left was proof enough for me.
Try it blogosphere! And tell em Penny sent ya!
Monday, February 6, 2012
KP
Put to rest for all eternity
But still fresh in my mind
Are the moments we shared
From that summer long past.
Flashbacks of lust and desire
Mar the sadness I should feel.
Rolling in the grass beneath a starlit sky,
Whispering dreams about a future so far away.
Driving to the City during a lightening storm,
You reaching for my hand and taking my heart.
Tracing your chest tattoos with my fingertips,
Wondering if I'd ever know their secrets.
A few weeks of bliss, such a short time.
Seems like a thousand years ago that
I held your gaze and felt that prick of longing.
I loved you then but dared not say.
Time would make things right
But life got in the way.
Rest in peace for always, my love.
Live forever in my heart.
But still fresh in my mind
Are the moments we shared
From that summer long past.
Flashbacks of lust and desire
Mar the sadness I should feel.
Rolling in the grass beneath a starlit sky,
Whispering dreams about a future so far away.
Driving to the City during a lightening storm,
You reaching for my hand and taking my heart.
Tracing your chest tattoos with my fingertips,
Wondering if I'd ever know their secrets.
A few weeks of bliss, such a short time.
Seems like a thousand years ago that
I held your gaze and felt that prick of longing.
I loved you then but dared not say.
Time would make things right
But life got in the way.
Rest in peace for always, my love.
Live forever in my heart.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)