I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but it’s cold. I don’t enjoy the cold anymore than I enjoy Rod Stewart, but I also don’t enjoy hiding out in my apartment all day long and doing my best impression of limp broccoli.
That’s not true. Sometimes I LOVE reveling in my funk and aggressively lounging. Sadly, the allure wears off after two or three months. Now I need to do something more energy intensive than high-impact eyebrow lifts.
“Um, Elly? Don’t you live right across the street from a gym?”
Fuck off. Gyms cause cancer. Ok technically my gym probably didn’t CA– USE my cancer but that’s how I found the damn mass, so forgive me if I’m not looking to spend a whole mess of time with Jon Corzine and the other gym bunnies of ‘boken while trying to control my panicked breathing. Besides, that place smells like the weird goat cheese-looking stuff that Rocco uses his pocket knife to dig out from underneath his toenails while watching Top Chef.
I’m eternally experimenting with indoor exercise activities while biding my time until the temperature approaches 50 again. Most of the time I settle for jogging back and forth across the 10 ft expanse of my living room while watching episodes of NCIS or Saturday Night Live. I like to think the gym bunnies are just as amused by my bobbing head bouncing from one window to another as I am when I watch them fall off the stairmaster.
Occasionally I mix it up and pull out the exercise ball, but that never ends well. I either accidentally roll over the cat then break something fragile in the ensuing melee, or I remember how Mom and Dad use THEIR exercise ball and end up crying in the shower.
Yesterday, on my weekly trip to my favorite building in Hoboken, I discovered a section of exercise videos. I bypassed the “Pilates for the Crazy Ambitious Fitness Freak” titles and selected a slightly less intimidating “The Bollywood Dance Workout.” I mean who doesn’t want to “shimmy, shake, and play Bhangra Style?”
“What’s Bhangra Style?” you ask. Shit. I was hoping you would know. As far as I can tell it involves being ridiculously beautiful while shimmying your hips with a chasemecumfuckme grin on your face and humping the camera guy with your eyes. Oh, there’s a mess of hopping, too.
The screen fills with this crazy beautiful ashram-looking setting and three of the most painfully stunning women I’ve ever seen dressed in outfits the color of fruity soda pop and undulating their perfect abs. Fuckers.
The music begins and it’s all BUNG cheeka chicka cheek BUNG cheeka chicka cheek BUNG cheeka chicka cheek with a little bit of BRINGGG diga diga diga BRINGGG diga diga diga and a dash of AHAH!!!! wee ooo AHAH!!!!
Did you get all that? Here’s a snippet just in case you can’t imagine the music…or the crazy beautiful women.
Seriously, there were a few moments when I felt like I was watching a movie on Cinemax instead of an exercise video I rented from the public library. Despite feeling a little dirty, I actually found myself grinning and even laughing as I tried to spin in a circle while shaking my head and bouncing my shoulders to the beat. I was slightly less amused when they added in the double-time hops and arm flings.
On a side note, I discovered that head flipping while floor humping is far less dramatic without four feet of luxurious curls cascading from the top of your perfectly formed head. I was feeling all dejected until the instructor lady looked into the camera with her smoldering eyes and comforted me with a mellow hip shimmy. I immediately forgot why I was annoyed and resumed tripping over my own feet.
It was all fine and good until I swear she said something to the effect of, “Now scoop your leg up behind your head then gracefully drop to the floor in a squat.” Um, what? A) is that even physically possible? B) you know I’m about as graceful as a drunk newborn cow on ice, right? C) did you just use the words graceful and squat in the same sentence? It was all downhill from there.
Suffice it to say, the cat is hiding under the bed, I’m in a great deal of pain, and I still ended up in the shower crying.