I've decided that I'm gonna lose weight. Big deal right? Yeah, I know.

Whoop-dee-do.

Annnnyways.....

I've joined a class at the gym around the corner (not the actual gym just a class held there) called Zumba

*don't you feel thinner already?!?*

and its led by a peppy little chick named Christal. And yes, it is spelled like that. She's about yaaaay big *hold fingers up just a leeetle bit apart*, and she wears her hair up in a ponytail about this high *pointing to the very top of my head* and smiles like her face is going to break. Ugh.

But I digress.

It's like an aerobics/dance/shoot me because these women keep !wooing! like they're having chocolate sundaes while riding a rollercoaster class. Two weeks ago it was my first class, and it was a freebie. Designed to suck you in with those gyrating hips, the shaking bosoms, the perky clapping, and then the next class they hit you with the fees. Smart marketing people, smart marketing.

And tonight I bought the card entitling me to 9 more blissful sessions!

Seriously, I think I may actually hate this class. I considered just buying the 5 pack of lessons, but thought, "what the he11 else am I going to do to shed the pounds?" and bought 10. Now I'm thinking if I hit the 4 available classes every week I'll be done those mutha's in 2 1/2 weeks! Yah baby yah!

There is also a bag of fruit sitting on my dining room table. And if I have to eat it, so does The Family. Whiskey (the DOG people, THE DOG!) may get an exemption, but ONLY because I'm the one who picks up after her outside and I'm not messing with that pile of poo. Literally.

One of my biggest sorrows with starting this whole 'watch what you eat, move your ass a bit more, drop some of that extra blahhh' are my screwdrivers. And no, I don't mean the rubber handled doo-hickeys that the Man asks for by name "Hon, could you hand me the red robby?"

Me --> "The who in the where now?!?"

No, I mean my beloved vodka and orange juice heaven. I read online today that one screwdriver is approximately 200 calories. :0 And that was for one serving, and I'm just taking a wild guess here, but my one serving never equals the one serving marked on the back of the package. 8 potato chips? 1 cup of cereal? 2 cookies? Pshawww. That's the kiddie version....right? Right?!?!

I ain't givin' them up. Nope. Won't do it. I'll cut back, sure. Well, sorta. I dunno. I'm not making any promises, okay?! A woman can only cut out so much white bread, chocolate and potato chips before she gnaws off her left arm in dieter's hell.

And I like my left arm.

So if anyone feels like joining me, feel free. Except YOU... Thing #5. *Pointing* You know exactly who you are. Unless you've put on the "freshman 15", if I so much as hear about you losing a pound I may have to pound y.... give you a hug and say you're perfect the way you are. Leave the pound dropping to us phat chicks. ;)

And here, now you can watch Christal in action.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYekJsCatxo

Ciao! *that's pronounced 'chow' in case yer too embarrassed to ask.*