Let the record reflect that I went to Jazzercise four days last week, and took two body sculpt classes. That’s six classes total. This week, so far, I’ve been to three (Jazzercise on Monday, Body Sculpt and Jazzercise yesterday). Today, it’s raining, and, while I probably won’t melt, why take chances? Besides, I have work to catch up on.

The new session of Personal Torture started Monday, and I am somewhat concerned about my personal safety, as I previously committed to The Queen of Pain that I would re-enlist. However, having wisely spent all my pocket money on Bushwackers at The Beach Bar, day trips to the British Virgin Islands, and over-indulgent meals while in St. John, I have no money left for Personal Torture. Sad but true. I subscribe with wild abandon to the “sha-la-la-la-la-la live for today” philosophy.

Anyway, to make up for the lack of torture in my life, I took a sucker bet. Demon Diane bet me she could get in fifty classes before me, starting on Sunday. She stipulated that she wouldn’t count the classes she taught or her Personal Torture, and told me she was taking two weeks of vacation. Sounds like a no brainer, right? I mean, how could she possibly win that? So I took the bet.

What I did not stop to consider (and here’s where the stupidity comes in) is that Demon Diane has an obsessive compulsive exercise disorder. She’s a size four, who (the last time I checked) was going to Jenny Craig). She exercises in her sleep. She will crush me. As The Queen of Pain herself wisely inquired, “What was I thinking?”

I’m up to 3 classes. I’ll bet she’s at about ten…no, wait, if she took every class but hers, she’s probably at eleven by now…

Peace, out…

Yesterday I went to Personal Torture and to Demon Diane’s Salsa class. PT was painful, but, except for Shona making us laugh telling stuff I can’t post here, uneventful. Not so the Salsa class. Diane was ravishing in a halter style, asymmetrical hemline flouncy dress. She was perfectly accessorized, right down to the aerobic shoes. Now, one might imagine that someone Jazzercising in a halter-top flouncy dress might be susceptible to the dreaded wardrobe malfunction, but Demon Diane pulled off the set without incident. It was my wardrobe that malfunctioned.

A while back (just before the commercial was taped) Casey, the Queen of Pain, shamed me into purchasing several new Jazzer-outfits. It was high time, since I’d been wearing the same oversized, faded T-shirts and capris for four or five years now. We were both sick of looking at them, so I trotted on over to Target and stocked up on capri-length exercise pants and matching tops. These tops are more fitted than my usual long, floppy T-shirts, and the capris have a stylish foldover band around the hips in a contrasting color. The stylish pink band on my black capris was the source of the problem.

Salsa dancing is hip-intensive. The stylish pink band around my VOLUPTUOUS hips wiggled itself into an un-folded-over position, making my capris full-length pants in mid-chanse. I adjusted them as good as I could while tangoing, only to find that they slipped even further down during the samba. I wrestled with those pants the entire class. It was very distracting–I’m sure I didn’t get my heart rate up into the green zone (the place on the chart in the front of the room where I don’t have enough breath to whine and my life is passing before my eyes). My pants never actually slid all the way off, but had I not fortuitously worn a Jazzercise T-shirt which is longer than my new matching top, the twenty people standing behind me would have had a gander at my pink flowered Victoria’s Secrets.

I missed class today all together, but I have a good reason, several actually. I had to go to the mall, there were things I needed and Belks sent me several really good coupons in the mail. Also, everything is on sale right now. Then, I had a dermatologist appointment, followed by a hair appointment. I didn’t even get to eat lunch until Christie had my foils in. I munched on a Chick-fil-a sandwich while my highlights processed. Then I had to go pick up prescriptions, and by that time it was after five. True, I could have made Julie’s class, but then I would have been too sore to make it in the morning.

Obviously, I didn’t get a thing written today. I’ll do better tomorrow. Y’all hold me to it!!

Peace, out…