Lord.

Here are the reasons that my Zumba class tonight was the best in the history of the world (and yes, I am aware of the light that sentence casts me in):
for a glossary of the terms used in this entry, click here.

1) We had a new teacher who played actual hip hop* as opposed to hip hop-esque music with the word Zumba substituted for anything that would make the Ancients blush. As a result, I saw an elderly Indian man not only sing along to "Sexy and You Know It" but also respond, when we were asked by the instructor "who in here is sexy and they know it?" with an enthusiastic "I DO!"

2) There was a very sweet, very uncoordinated gay gentleman in the class today, and it threw everyone off. There was one elderly woman (not an ancient) who, after repeatedly trying to follow his lead said, "this is the stereotype you choose to buck?!"

3) Someone left an exercise ball in the Crazy Ancient's corner and every few minutes she'd yell, "Balls! Balls! Yup!"

By the way, I say this with full knowledge that I am in no way as cool as any of these people. That's not false modesty, either. I've been going to this fercockt class at least once a week for months and still the only move I've really mastered is shaking my tits. 

*which is very different from real hip hop, since what plays on the radio is mainly pop bullshit with a hint of hip hop. I'm looking at you, Pitbull.

Social Hierarchy of A Zumba Class

Hello, my name is Sarah Hartshorne... and I Zumba. I read somewhere that memorizing a choreographed physical routine is 10x better for preventing Alzheimer's than crossword puzzles, so I started taking Zumba classes. For a while I think I pulled off doing so ironically, until this week.

Somehow... I crossed a line. I'm not sure how it happened but all of a sudden at my last class I noticed people looking to me to figure out the routine. And when the instructor asked how we were all doing....

I whooed. 

That's right. As in the "whooo!" one does at a concert or a sporting event or somewhere equally cool. I made that sound, along with a bunch of other people in tight, elastic-y clothing, at a Zumba class. I expect to receive a letter in the mail any day announcing that I will not be allowed in Brooklyn until I complete 10 Enthusiasm Management Classes and an Irony Apprecation Workshop.

In the meantime, however, I've learned that there is a clearly divided social hierarchy in Zumba classes and these are the divisions my research has revealed:

Gay Guys

They are the top of the pyramid and everyone knows it. 

They move the best, the have the most fun and everyone 

follows them when they can't see the instructors. But the 

truly best thing about them is how uncomfortable the Unfunny 

Straight Guys look as they realize whose lead they have to follow. 

Zumba Sluts

There are actually 2 types of Zumba Sluts but they're all

tan, have an entire wardrobe of cute workout clothes (as

opposed to a 3XL Morris Dancing Feast T-shirt and men's

running shorts) and wear makeup to class.These are the subcategories:

1) Young Zumba sluts: their expertise comes from 

dancing at the club and they want everyone to know it.

They bust into their own slutty little dances between

numbers lest anyone think their talents were limited to

Zumba. No one knows who they are trying to impress.

2) Middle-aged Zumba sluts: these women wear special

Zumba brand clothing, are ridiculously fit, and say things 

like, "why go to a club when you can Zumba?!" I am

tempted to suggest they ask their younger counterparts,

but that would draw attention to the fact that someone in 

in the world is younger than them and they really hate that. 

I once mentioned that I wasn't born when their favorite 

song came out and they almost ate me.

General Populace/Funny Straight Guys

This, I believe, is where I fall in the pyramid.

The funny straight guys don't mind taking

cues from the gay guys, acknowledge their lack of

rhythym and try to have a good time anyway. I think

the instructor's impeccable ass helps. A lot.

Neurotic Nancies/Unfunny Straight Guys

These are the guys who thought they'd be able

to pick up chicks and realize that that won't be 

happening, and the girls who are, "like, known for

 their dancing" and thought they'd be awesome at this

until they caught sight of themselves in the mirror. 

In short, anyone who takes themselves seriously is 

instantly relegated to the bottom of the pile.

And outside the pyramid, floating around in the periphery are 

The Ancients

Women who are all approximately 120 years old and spend the entire class just walking in place and waving their arms. The really ambitious ones alter their arm waves to vaguely resemble the instructor's movements. In my class we have the added bonus of having a crazy ancient who, in between numbers, shouts things like, "we all have wings of the Taco!" which is pretty great.

New Year's Eve!

New Year's Eve Party

So, my glamourous High School Friend just posted some pics from The Boy and my NYE party that she took with her fancy new camera. The party was lovely- friends, champagne, sushi and black dresses = fab.

Also, my shoes.

Farthest right.

And necklaces.


My dress. It used to be a puffy skirted debutant dress (I love clothes with stories, even if I make them up) but I altered it and it came out like this:


Unfortunately, I kept the corset ribbing, which was less than comfortable, so I changed.

Much more conducive to dancing.

Also conducive to dancing: