Wednesday, November 30, 2011

This was our zucca pie for Thanksgiving. I picked at the crust which was prettier beforehand. Scusatemi!
Tonight it was useful to not speak Italian fluently because I could pretend I had no idea what was happening. A woman in my class kept stopping during the cardio dance segment to put her hand on her hips and look perturbed because she didn't feel like trying to get the steps. I repeat the same things over and over since I am not good at counting or picking up steps either, I know that the moves I do are all within grasp of anyone who tries, but she was not in the mood to try. Ladies older and equally dignified were having no problems. So I ignored her. Then it was time for mat work and the woman asked the student fairly far behind her to move back and give her more space. The student complied. Over the next little while the woman stopped two other times to ask my friend Laura who was on the mat in front of her to move. Laura knew better than to run any risks and moved to the other side of the room entirely. Then this woman moved her mat a little to the right, a little to the left, up and down several other times fighting off this invisible crowd that was bothering her. In reality, there was an ever widening space around where she was situated. The only other student within a stone's throw from her got yelled at next. During the dispute which was distracting everyone and was broadcasting over my spoken directions, I eventually made eye contact with her in the mirror and said that I was sorry but I didn't understand anything that was going on. When she tried to explain it to me slowly I cocked my head to the side like a bewildered puppy and looked at her blankly. Finally the woman got up and left. For the rest of the class everyone was chatting and giggling about her, but I said nothing.  Later during the massage at the end of the class , I said to the ladies, "my mamma didn't raise no fool now"-- translated "io conosco i miei polli"-- and they all started laughing because ignorance, in this case, was bliss Italian style.

T & friends

Other people's parents are less embarrassing

At the train crossing before class, the train actually came and the little barriers came down so I had to stand there with all of the cars. I was listening to my ipod and it was very hard for me not to bop up and down with the music so I did a modified little bop which was very constrained of me since I considered bursting into a number from Footloose and entertaining the troops while we were all stuck there together. But then I thought of how it embarrasses my daughter that I wore a hoodie to pick her up from school and changed my mind.

Try not to embarrass me, mom. (All that nonsensical existing etc.)
Today I had my first personal training client who is the daughter of one of my students and she is probably seventeen years old or so. We danced like maniacs to the music from glee and talked about Nicole Ritchie's tumultuous life and association with Tracy Anderson. By the end of the hour she was completely red in the face and sweating so i felt like I did my job. We'll see if she comes back on Thursday.

Then i got a call at work from my friend who wanted English homework help for her daughter. Does anyone know the names of our toes, individually, and in English? I went with the ordinal numbers, but I had a perverse and strong desire to make up a lot of crazy sh$t. Like oh in America we call them piggies or the big one we call the pimp or the middle one is the helltotheno. But I had a fit of decency. I hate when that happens.

1 comment:

Laurence said...

The big one isn't called the pimp?