Feel the Music

     So let me tell you about my first experience with Zumba. It wasn't good. And thank God I had the blinds on the patio door shut, because knowing my luck, I would find out that I have a stalker across the way with a telescope, and would end up longer having one after he saw me doing "Zumba"-quotes, because what I did that day was definitely NOT Zumba.  Maybe more like "Foomba"...
    So. I've been interested in Zumba for awhile now. Cause it seems like fun. But I was always a bit worried about attempting it. See, although I have some rythmn, and can keep a beat (or so I thought), Zumba requires the type of coordination I didn't think I possessed. I can't even do side straddle hops, or as they're called in the civilian world, jumping jacks. Yes, there's nothing like doing 4 count side straddle hops in formation and being unable to catch the beat, the count, or any of it really and instead of high speed in cadence side straddle hops, you're resigned to simply jumping up and down, waving your hands in the air (like you just don't care). So then you become the Re-Up Lady who can't do side straddle hops. Well, don't even get me started on ski jumpers, high skips, or cross country skiers...Anyway, I was in Osan, and I see a set of 4 Zumba DVDs for 10,000 won ($10), and think "what the hell". And by the way, ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies...no polly, no waiver, no statement about the DVDs. So I eagerly purchase them, and all but count down the minutes until I could get home and try the work out craze that's sweeping the nation!
     So there I was, Sunday afternoon. Wearing my work out gear and ready to do this! An hour later, I figure out how to the make the DVD player work, and how to figure out the remote that has all of the buttons labeled in doodles. I mean, Hangul (that would be the written Korean language, btw...). Ok, so NOW I'm ready to do this! And I'm excited, I'm anxious, I fixed the DVD player by myself! Wait, I'm not ready to do this. I gotta pee. Now I need to refill my water bottle, cause I drank it all figuring out the damned DVD player, TV and remote control. Ok, I'm back. I'm ready. I'm motivated. Kinda hungry too. Maybe I should have a sandwich before I do this...well, then I should probably wait about an hour before I work out, cause I don't want to cramp up. Wait, do I need to wait an hour? I mean, it's not like it's swimming and I could drown as a result of cramping up. Wait, nevermind, here we go. So much for a sandwich. It's time to Zumba!

 
     So I am intrduced to Tanya Beardsley, Jill DonchaWishYourGirlfriendWasHotLikeMe, and some Asian chick, Chusok, or something or other. Anway, they're all wearing the kind of work out pants that definitely required a Brazilian wax (well, Zumba did start in Brazil, right?), and sports bras. And big hoop earrings. And bracelets. Yeah, cause I always wear big hoop earrings and bracelets when I work out.  And Tanya and Jill have their hair back with bandanas ala J Lo in her Jenny from the Block days. Okaaay...and then Tanya speaks. And she can't seem to decide if she's from the Valley or a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Aye aye aye...So thanks to the lovely Zumba girls, I am going to learn all the steps necessary to do Zumba, and to lose weight while having fun. And I will say, this part was great. Thanks to Easy Beat 1,2, and 3. But can I just say some of these steps I'm not so sure about. Such as the "Cumbia Funk". I mean, is that REALLY a traditional Hispanic dance? Or what's the deal with Reggatron?! Seriously, what the hell is that? But don't worry, cause the 3 Amigas made sure to roll their "R's" whenever they said anything with the letter "R" in it. Even Chusok, which didn't quite sound right.  So, each of the girls takes a turn at teaching me all of the steps I need to know to do Zumba. But I'm unable to rewind anything on the DVD player, so I'm kinda screwed if I don't pick it up in 3 Easy Beats. Now Tanya, she is by far the best instructor, indecisive accent or no. Then there's Jill. Who seems more interested in showing us all how well she can Zumba and how hot she looks while doing it (yeah, well I have bigger boobs, bitch). But she's able to teach me the "Destrozza" (roll the R please) fairly well and her favorite, the Cumbia Funk. And then there's the Asian chick. I'm still not really sure what her roll was. But she taught the Calypso stuff and probably some of the other moves.  So 45 minutes later, I'm ready to do this! I know the steps. Bring it, bitches!

                                                                 
     Oh they brought it all right. And with them, they brought more skinny bitches who's pants were about to fall off and the creator of Zumba. Who sounded a bit like Puss in Boots. I spent half the workout waiting for him to do the big cute eyes, or say, "I am Puss...in Boots". But alas, that never happened. Instead, he spent the whole video groping, fondling and ogling Tanya (who was the lead instructor), Jill, some other chicks and the Asian chick (Chusok, or something about as Hispanic sounding as "Jennifer").  And saying shit like "Ju got to feel de mew-zic.." And groping and grinding up on Tanya. At one point, I wondered, "What the hell kind of video IS this?" Is this a porno that takes place in a Zoomba class? I mean, there's two dudes who aren't even remotely good looking and a buncha hot chicks. Now, I don't watch porn, but I don't think this is the kind I would watch if I did. So anyway. I merengue. I salsa. I cumbia AND cumbia funk. I destrozza (roll the R, please), I do the reggatron (2 r's to roll in that one). Or at least try to. At some point I emulated Jill and just stood there and wiggled, only I don't think I managed to look as good at it.  I attempted and failed miserably at the samba, but somehow manage to get the calypso and the shimmy. And let me tell you about the shimmy. These skinny bitches are shimmying like it's their freaking job! And smiling about it! And here's Tanya, "Now remember to just move your shoulders back and forth!" "Don't forget to give it some 'sabor' [taste]!" "Get your hips into it!". Let me get this straight. I gotta shake my shoulders back and forth, shake my ass, AND put some freaking "sabor" into it? Oh, I got your "sabor", honey. It's called the taste of my fist in your mouth. The shimmy is not really a move a woman with boobs will enjoy doing, since even when done correctly, is a bit painful for the "twins". These chicks don't have boobs, so they're shimmying and wiggling, and smiling (and being groped by Rico Suave). And clearly not in pain from shimmying. Grrr....meanwhile, the cast of So You Think You Can Dance are really bringing it. I mean, they are in it to win it. Meanwhile, the white chick with more boobs than coordination, is in her living room, dying, going left when she should be going right. Going forward when she should be going backward. I'm so far off the beat, it's lost, it's gone and will perhaps be found next week.  I'm doing the merengue instead of the cumbia. The reggatron (don't forget to roll those r's!) instead of the calypso. And there's no one all up on me groping me. But it's okay, cause Antonio Banderas and Tanya are both really supportive of my efforts, from Julio Eglesias telling me "Ju are doing great" (you should know the deal by now, roll that r, please), to Tanya, the Valley Girl from the Bronx telling me I'm looking good. And don't forget to shake your hips and give it sabor! Jill's in the background by now just shaking her ass and smiling. Chusok is auditioning for Solid Gold, So You Think You Can Dance, I don't freaking know, and Puss in Boots is still smiling and telling me to Feel the Music. And I am dying. Sweating copiously and thankful (hopeful) no one can see me. And wondering which one of the dancers will get voted off, pretty sure it's going to be me. And not upset by that in the least.
     Then at last, it's over and we're "cooling down". And no one else is sweating. At all. And it dawns on me. These assholes are not Zumba instructors. No no.  They're professional dancers. That explains it. AND they're all wearing Zumba Gear. Ohhhh. So maybe if I wore Zumba Gear, and put my hair back with a bandana, and alternated between channeling Rosie Perez and a Valley Girl, I would be able to do Zumba.  Hmmm... as I ponder all of this, and give thanks to every Deity out there that I survived, Cat Deely comes out, dressed to kill and, and in her perky, upbeat, and alluring British accent, declares that I was voted off of this week's episode of So You Think You Can Dance. Well, at least I had the bad news broken to me with a cool accent. But I would have preferred hearing it from Jason Statham...Now for that sandwich... 

My Little Voice Talks Too Much

Today I decided I wanted to walk to the North Seoul Tower. Having 4 days off in a row, in a foreign country all by yourself, you've got to come up with ways to keep yourself entertained in acceptable, yet fun, productive ways that won't cause an international incident. I needed to get out of the apartment and I needed to work out and I wanted to go walking. Korea is a great place to walk and get a work out-very little of it is flat! And the hills aren't slight, gentle inclines. No no. They're more like walking bent over almost Bear Walking up the hill. They're not so bad if you're not paranoid about the old lady behind you catching you and following you into your apartment and killing you in your sleep with a pair of cuticle scissors. If you are paranoid, then you race up said hill and die a slow and agonizing death as you attempt to race up the 36 stairs to your apartment, hoping you can get your code punched in in time, and lock yourself inside before that evil 85 year old woman catches you. If you take it leisurely and "stroll", cause she is 85, after all and is as likely to torture and murder you as the Tooth Fairy is, the hills are OK. Challenging, but OK and not so bad.

So I decided I was going to walk to the Seoul Tower. Cause I had been told it wasn't that far. How hard could it be? Famous last words... But before I could go, I had to prepare. So I put on my fave yoga capri pants, which according to Fashion for Dummies, I shouldn't wear capri pants because being a pear shape, they will make me look hippy. I have yet to find anything that Doesn't make me look hippy. So on they went, along with the bright red 41st Fires BDE reenlistment Tshirt. I then put on socks and sneakers. Now since I had recently bought ankle socks to wear with my hippy pants in mind, I was feeling quite confident, albeit hippy. I needed provisions, too. So I emptied out my ACU backpack, and in went a water bottle (filled, thank you very much), a book, a diet coke, a PB&J sandwich (on whole wheat, thank you very much), a fruit cup, spoon, emery board, camera, knife, band aids, my wallet with, 4 types of currency (hey, I found euros in my suitcase and for some reason put them in my wallet. I have yet to figure out why I put the Deutschemarks in there...), a clippy for my hair, my journal, and 2 pens (in case one ran out). See, I had envisioned getting to the Tower, finding a nice spot to sit and read while munching happily on my PB&J sandwich and sipping a diet Coke, feeling at one with nature, and at peace with myself. All the while, feeling calm, restful and bohemian and perhaps writing something profound in my journal. You know, something like Jenn loves Tony and drawing our names with hearts all around them. Now, some of the other supplies were the result of the risk assessment I did prior to leaving. I had to ask myself what all of the possible risks associated with my journey were. And I came up with getting lost, getting dehydrated, getting hungry, getting poetic, getting hit but a car, getting kidnapped, my hair hanging in my face, my cell phone battery dying and therefore taking with it my ability to take pictures, breaking a nail, and needing something to do while I waited for help to arrive in case of one of those things happening. I did consider the possibility of twisting an ankle, but since I decided to wear sneakers and not high heels, I figured I was good to go there. I will admit to leaving the reflective belt behind. Despite one of the risks being getting hit by a car, I decided to mitigate that risk by wearing bright red and paying attention to the world around me. So I left my iPOD at home, sitting next to the discarded high heels. I even told 2 people where I was going, Granted, one was in Texas, and the other one Osan, but I did tell someone where I was going. So once my PCC's/PCI's (precombat checks and inspections) were complete, I went over my plan once more. I was going to the Seoul Tower and as soon as I was done making lists, I would leave. I figured I'd be back by 1500 or so, feeling 3 hours was plenty of time to get there and back. I didn't really know the route I was taking, I was kind of winging it, and figured since it was a tourist attraction, there would be signs. So, I was finally ready to go. I got my sunglasses (I had decided to go with the cheap ones as opposed to the Coach ones. I didn't want to look like That Girl, you know?), put on my sneakers, backpack, and pedometer, and off I went with a spring in my step and a song in my heart. I started walking in the general direction of the tower, not really knowing how to get there, or where exactly it was, just knowing it was somewhere "over there" on my left. 

Well, with it being on my left, the first thing I did was cross the street to be on the left side. I finally made my way to the park with the trails leading up to the tower and encountered a sign that pointed me in the right direction, and said it was 1.5 km to the tower. How easy is that? Well, I was about to find out. So as I trudged uphill, the spring in my step a bit smaller, the song in my heart getting slightly breathy, I thought that this wasn't too awful. And since there weren't any homicidal grannies around that I could see, I decided to slow down a bit, and take in the sights. At the next directional sign, and it said 800m to the tower. Wow, I thought. I am kicking ass. And then I get to the next sign. Apparently it was 800 m to the next sign. WTH. And then I see The Hill. The kind where I'll be one with nature all right. So as I bear walk up the damn thing, I am convinced I must be on hidden camera. And somewhere there is a live studio audience laughing hysterically at me. I was also slightly worried I'd trip and fall, and roll all the way back to the bottom and get hit by a car. And that would really suck cause I'm pretty sure my diet coke would get shook up in the event that happened, so then I'd be stuck drinking water while I waited for the ambulance, sine the diet coke would explode and be flat. Ugh, no thank you. So with that on my mind, I made it my mission not to trip and fall. So I manage to get to the top of the hill, and the next sign. Oh neato! 1.2km to the Tower. How is that even possible? I mean, where in the hell is this Tower? I don't even see it in the distance anymore. Did someone mess with the signs? There's a live studio audience watching me, isn't there? By now, I have noticed that I'm sweating kind of copiously. Cause brainiac me decided to do this jaunt at high noon. And I see all of these Koreans, walking up the hill, dressed to the nines as they always are, and not the least out of breath. I mean, there was an old ajima, who must have been 85 years old and I could hardly keep up with her. Perhaps she was trying to keep away from me, paranoid I was going to kill her with cuticle scissors....So on I climb. Not really kowing what to expcet in 1.2km, and wondering what the "1000m" spray painted in the road means. And by now, there's no spring in my step; it's more like stomping. And that song in my heart? Forget it. That's a waste of precious energy and breath. Meanwhile, my dumb ass is thinking, "I should so do this every Sat or Sun morning". WTH is wrong with me?? It must be the lack of oxygen to my brain. That's the only explanation I can figure out for that crazy thought. Meanwhile, there are buses flying by me, cause there's no sidewalk, just a lane in the street for pedestrians. And the way this road curves, a reflective belt wouldn't have helped in the least. 

So I see another sign, and it informs me the Tower is 1000 m away. In my defense, this was about 500m after I saw it painted on the street. I finally get to the parking lot where the buses were in such a hurry to get to, and see another sign, and it says the Tower is 1.4km away. How is this possible?? It has now occurred to me that the signs are totally wrong, because as I stand there and watch the tourists get out of the buses and gaily skip over to the latrines, and then up a hill, where they disappear, I realize I have to be almost there. So I follow the masses up yet another hill, feeling a bit out of place, because they are not sweaty and out of breath and I am (that's because they took the bus, you silly woman). Some are wearing the high heels I wisely chose not to wear (ha ha; in your face bitches!). And then the hill levels out, and there it is. The Tower that has been eluding and taunting me. And I have triumphed. I have trudged over the river and through the woods. Up hills, risking life and limb, all so I could get out of the house and work out (cause we all know it would have been too easy to go to the gym on post). And still, my dumb ass is thinking, "I should totally do this once a week". WTH is wrong with me?? So I wander around, and take pictures. Gone are my ideas of sitting down and having a sandwich, journaling, reading, and wiggling my toes in the grass. Why is that you ask? Cause I was tired as hell and still had to get back down and get home. So I drank my water, refilled it, reset my pedometer, and away I went. Well now the spring is back in my step, and the song is back in my heart, cause it was all downhill. Literally, all downhill, like "please don't let me fall, please don't let me fall" downhill. And once again, my little voice said to me "I should totally do this every Sat or Sunday morning". I chose to ignore my little voice. All together it was about 3km to the Tower, and 3 back, but my little voice is not doing the math and chimes in once again, with, "3 k's? Oh, well that's not so bad!" says . My little voice also has conveniently forgotten the 15 minute walk to the park from home, and back. So now I'm back on the main street, fully cognizant of where I am and where I need to go in order to get home and finally have my sandwich. And as I climb up the stairs, and enter my code for the front door, my little voice says, "I should totally do that every Sat or Sun morning. It wasn't so bad and I did just say the other day that I'm going to start listening to my little voice more often since it's usually right". Now, I don't know where in the hell my little voice got that last part from, but all I have to say is, my little voice talks too much