I was standing at the mailboxes at work when Samantha opened the envelope from her sister.
"ZUMBA!" she yells, and I'm thinking it's some ethnic 'hooray' or something. And I had to see what the fuss was all about. I was really hoping it was something good.
Nope. It's exercise DVD's with latin dance music and some killer moves. And she proceeds to rope Irene into making me some copies so I can try it. Try it, I did, and now I want to murder Samantha because my hips are KILLING me.
OMG. Have you ever seen Zumba? It's killer because the music is horribly fast and the moves require a ton of quick foot movements combined with the shaking your hips and waving of your arms. I have to admit to looking like a complete idiot while I do it, but I certainly feel the pain after two short sessions.
"Beto", the Zumba dance host, dances with a gang of gals who all look like Gloria Estefan in street clothes, all the while encouraging me and Em with terms like "Feel the music!" and "Add some flavor!"--whatever the hell that means. Beto sort of creeps me out with his winking eye and his creepy smile, but I dance on.
So, there I stand, in my family room, with my yoga pants on and my tank top rolled up to show my belly like the girls on the video--and it's not looking good. Okay, so I was getting in the spirit of Zumba.....and the music goes on....and on.....and on--horribly long.
And it's not pretty. Em and I try, but we are not Latin. We don't have rhythm or natural hip shakin' like those girls, and we certainly don't have abs like they do--well, at least I don't.
Finally, after 40 minutes of Beto yelling for us to add "flavor", Em turns to me and says "What the hell does that mean anyway?"
I have to admit to her, "Em, we are Lithuanian. We eat potatoes for god sake--we don't have flavor."
And we dance awkwardly on.