Death Threats in Zumba Class

Tonight I went to Zumba class. It didn't end well. Here's why: 


1. I have NO coordination whatsoever. This is mostly to blame on being an ex-swimmer. For those of you who don't know, swimmers are the kids who got thrown in the pool because we sucked at normal sports like soccer.   

2. Rhythm. What rhythm? I gave up dance years ago. I got kicked out of ballet class and can only dance like Beyonce after a cocktail. 

3. I'm tall (and awkward). I really wish I could drop it low...but tonight proved otherwise. 

4. I don't own Zumba attire. I'm convinced that those in a neon tank top and that ugly, nurse-sneaker hybrid are the only ones who can keep up

5. I can't shake what my mama gave me...because she gave me none. Sorry mom, but I got dad's flat, flat butt. 

6. The teacher is crazy and questionably on drugsNot kidding.

7. I have no right to be at the gym. It's true. I should be home pinning or better yet, at happy hour. 

8. I'm only used to suburban Zumba, not city Zumba. Suburban Zumba is filled with housewives and high-schoolers . . . not professionals who go to art school and have been finalists on SYTYCD

9. I suck at positioning. Being the blonde I am, I situated myself in the only corner of the room where the teacher was NO WHERE TO BE SEEN. This meant I had absolutely no idea what was going on. None. 

10. I waited until March to have a New Year's resolution. Actually, I waited until I overdosed on pizza. Long story short, no one told me that each class was an accumulation of moves from the week past.  

A picture from my first and last dance class as a child. Notice how I wasn't even dancing... 

A picture from my first and last dance class as a child. Notice how I wasn't even dancing... 

Side notes: Seeing myself dance in the mirror, I want to apologize to all those who have ever gone out with me on a Saturday night. I also want to apologize to the girl next to me. Poor thing, had to witness a train wreck up close and personal. 

The end. 

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10 Reasons Why I'm Ironic (Part II)

Here are 10 reasons why I'm not really meant to be a blogger, yet I still am....

(Part II) 


1. I truly hate shopping (unless brunch at Neiman’s is involved).

2. I don’t trust anyone who likes chevron print

3. I never really do my hair (hence the ponytail…) 

4. My closet is limited in size, clothing, and color. 

5. Boyfriend taking my photos? Oh hell no.  

6. I'm more obsessed with Snapchat than Instagram. 

7. My nails never really look presentable... 

8. I’d rather buy decor than denim. 

9. My kitchen isn’t fancy enough for food photos. 

10. I can't buzz my mailman in, meaning I can't online shop. Tragic. 


Best part? Blogging allows you to be yourself, making all of the above kinda, sorta, irrelevant.


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