Things I'd Like If I Were Very Rich

If I were very very rich, I wouldn't quit working, and I wouldn't want a fancy sports car. I probably wouldn't want any car still. I would go on some trips, but I wouldn't disappear and travel for a month right now. Not when there's so much happening. If I were very rich, this is what I'd want:

-a daily massage
-to take more cabs
-to have a room for a treadmill and yoga mats
-to join the fanciest gym classes
-court-side seats to the Bulls
-a plethora of Subway gift cards in my pockets for all the hungry people
-a big fancy shower
-a hot tub, or easy access to one
-to turn up the heat about two more degrees
-a standing cruise vacation with all my friends
-Shirley Temples at every comedy show forever and ever

Adventures in Gym Class: Part II

I. Last Wednesday Boot Scoot was canceled, so I had to try something new. Grind. I took a fitness class called Grind. I know about Grind because sometimes when the song is changing in BS, I can hear "Candy Shop" through the gym walls.

Grind is a "hip-hop" "dance" class that makes you "feel like you're at the club." I have never shaken my butt more in an hour period, that is true. But my butt also isn't really built to shake, or shimmy, or anything, so I mostly stiffly rotated it around kind of and was grateful not to be wearing glasses so I could only half-way see the embarrassing mess I had become.

Three things:

1. It was a 20 person class. I am pretty sure only 2 of the people present would actually make a night of being at a club. The other 18 were mainly doofy looking women of all sizes in various hodgepodge workout tees trying their best not to look completely idiodic "getting low." There's something about moving like you're in a club with a body and demeanor that say, "Club as in the cracker, or?"
2. There was a dance where we did a push-up after twerking. I'd like to see someone do that in a club sometime. Maybe that should be me. Maybe I should just start doing push-ups in the club.
3. The tunes were, obvs, club beats. Having to focus on the music to get rhythms down made me hyper aware of the lyrics. Wow. Did these songs all objectify women. My Chick Bad. The Luda bit in "Yeah." And I'd prefer to not hear "Damn, that white girl got some ass" any time in my day, let alone several dozen times repeated over and over, LET ALONE while I was jumping around attempting to jiggle my butt.

"What are we doing here?" I kept thinking. Like, what. Is. Happening? Why? It's usually assumed that when people are working out, they're trying to look better. And it's usually assumed that when women are trying to look better, it's for men. This isn't always true, obviously. I love to work-out. Sometimes it makes me look better and sometimes it just feels good. If I do look better, I'm kinda happy to be more physically appealing to men, but more immediately, I feel better. Still, society blah blah blah there was a little part of us in there for that purpose.

And there were no men with us. Besides the ones yelling over the loudspeaker to bend over and lemme see you work. And we did. We did.

II. Alternatively, I completed one of my grad school goals by closing out an all-female workshop production today.

Lady director, lady playwright, five lady actors.

Parents' Weekend

The last Parents Weekend Variety Talent Show I will ever be in. I was talking about the dress rehearsal with Pookie-

Alice: I have to go to rehearsal at seven for the Parent Weekend Variety...Gosh what a long name.
Pookie: Shorten it. Pee-double-you...okay not worth it.



It's never the best LZ show, but it is an LZ show, and I love the cast, and I love not being in charge anymore. Yesterday the show's director called us an hour and half early...not so good for a rowdy bunch of people with nothing to rehearse. We got antsy and started playing Truth or Dare (of all things to be doing in my last quarter of college). Bradley started making up dares about mooning the audience, and for a moment I started to freak out when I remembered I am no longer responsible for anything that happens with LZ. Oh, it felt so good.


Great Things about This Picture: XTian's pits & it's resemblance to the DVD cover of One Tree Hill Season One

Anyway, my dad was here. Doling out grades to all the acts as usual. Saying things like "This musical number? So what? C." and "From joyful to joyless--F."

This morning Pookie made us tiny almond croissants and we had a heated discussion on how we all hated our PE educations.

"Oh, I hated the rope. It's like...here climb this. It's two stories high. There's like...a little mat underneath you. And, I'm like 1) I don't like doing this and 2) If I screw up I'LL DIE. I mean...the mat is really just there to sop up the blood." - My Dad