“Hip-hop Hip-hop Hip-hop-anonymous”

I tried something new tonight. After grinding my hips into random men this weekend and realizing that it didn’t qualify as dancing, I decided that it was my civic duty to attend the Wednesday night Hip Hop class at the gym. If I went, At least I could say that I shake my ass legitimately. So, I put on my W.W.F.D. (What would Fergie Do) mentality and drove my overworked hips to LAFitness. Let’s get it started. Let’s get it started in here.

Let’s be honest, it took me 8 minutes on the elliptical before I could get myself into the room. I asked myself how many times I had walked into a room, community, or state not knowing a soul. I counted at least 8 in the last four years, found that I could no longer put it off and shimmied my bootah on in the room. I was going to Hip Hop with Jose.

Except it was Hip Hop with Freddie. I wouldn’t know the difference, but I liked the way it sounded. Dancing was harder than I remembered, especially since I’m a good 50 pounds heavier from when I was actually a great dancer. But, it made me realize that I should do it more often. I shoulda been a dancer. My children will dance and sing and make music every day. There’s something incredible about having rhythm in your life. And so I learned some legitimate ass-shaking and got a helluva workout…enough to hold me over in the event that I can’t make it due to an emergency Martini night tomorrow. I love Miami.

Things that make me happy today:
Finding a great friend again.
Reading Wicked.
Manhattan curling up on me.
Watching Lost.
Multi-part emails from CB.
Tropical Depression #1 to soon be Tropical Storm.
A-Rod being the youngest to hit 400 HRs.
Wine. Simply. Wine.