Friday Morning I over slept–due to studying great literature late into the night–but managed to drag my sorry tush to Myra’s class (9:20). Myra, who discovered quite accidentally that she has been blogged, professed feeling pressure to perform, but delivered her usual entertaining fare. I should also mention, for the record, that, like all of the other instructors at the Taylors Jazzercise Center, Myra is–in addition to her talents with colorful language–also obnoxiously gorgeous. Inside and out. She’s not like one of those blind dates that you go on where the person fixing you up tells you what a great personality the other party has (code for homely at best).
And I have to tell y’all, Myra, in addition to all her other many talents, is quite intellectual. I have learned a lot from Myra. Especially in he area of human biology (I’m sure there’s a fancier name for that, but I don’t have time to find it). Before taking Myra’s class, for example, I was completely ignorant of the following body parts: side-butt, over-hang, and glootey-patootey. We work those parts on a regular (and painful) basis.
Something else I’ve learned is a completely new language. Myra is fond of Latin music. She loves to dance with a rose in her teeth. And if she doesn’t understand the lyrics, she sings them in Myra-ese. I’m still working on the finer points of this modern linguistic marvel, but it seems to be a cross between Spanish and Southernese.
I’m telling y’all: there is simply no place you get more for your exercise dollar than at Taylors Jazzercise Center. Give it a try. Maybe I’ll see you there. If I haven’t over slept.