slumped sitting on my wheelchair love seat praying watching my Oscar fish play in their generous tank. I find this relaxing on most days - seeing how effortlessly Groucho glides through the water, or how Oskarella winds her way through fake brush with Ernie in hot pursuit.
But last night, the more I watched my fish, the more anxious I seemed. Heat crept along the back of my neck (and not from the hot water bottle resting on my hips) and my cheeks became flushed. (Admittedly, that might have been from the third shot of whiskey...but after the handful of pain killers, it's all a bit of a blur...)
I recognize the symptoms of jealousy.
Yep. I'm envious of my Oscars.
Before you dig out the straight jacket, let me explain. Oscars are not the common belladonnas of the household tank - they're big (and get bigger) and don't have the same ethereal beauty as an angel fish, or the sleekness of a shark. Their googly eyes kind of pop from their head and their mouths are massive caverns of doom. They can swallow minnows with one gulp - and have been known to eat much bigger prey when tempted, sometimes ripping it to pieces.
And still, their scaly fish bodies move with such elegance through the water. No matter how big Oscars grow, their fins sway like the flowing dress of a Salsa dancer. These fish understand the concept of choreography - heads gliding to the right, while their tails wind to the left. It's beautiful.
I can't help but wonder if my body will ever move with such grace. For now, I'm still very much a fish out of water.
At Fit Hop on Tuesday, I came to the realization that looking in the mirror while flopping around the dance floor wasn't doing anything for my self esteem - so I practiced the same theory at Salsa Burn. I think I might be on to something.
What could have been daunting - a triple threat of perky, talented instructors (Kasha, Mel AND Jessica, oh my! Not to mention Sue's constant muttering about the many ways she'd like to kill me...) - stayed...fun.
We samba'd. We meringue'd. We cha cha cha'd. We did that "wacka wacka" Shakira dance. Kasha taught us how to, um, gallop. And Jessica demonstrated the appropriate way to don a pink cowboy hat and "yip" like a cowgirl (while smacking her iron buttocks) - just a couple weeks too late for the Calgary Stampede, shucks. (Better luck next year, no?)
We took fewer breaks, and worked straight through the hour and 15 minutes to the point where (cover your eyes if your tummy is queasy this morning) I actually almost threw up. As Jessica points out, you can burn up to 750 calories in a typical dance class - which wipes out the spaghetti / meatball dinner I ate an hour before class. Salsa Burn is no joke.
I've accepted (surprise) Jessica's challenge to take my dance training up a notch - four classes next week - but honestly, I am relieved for tonight's break. What about Naughty Hotties, you ask? I'm leaving that class for EROTICA. She's all excited about the promised Lady Marmalade chair routine. I'm sure I'll be doing a little sitting myself tonight, just as soon as I figure out how to get rid of this "numb bum."
TIME IS RUNNING OUT! Have you checked out Candy's epic contest yet? Not only do you have an opportunity to win some amazing (AMAZING) prizes, you also have a chance to help out women in need. Spread the love. But do it fast - deadline is JULY 31, 2010.
The Book In My Bag Today: Wicked Lovely, Melissa Marr