Waiting For The Sun

Of course I had to wait until my absolute last day in Miami to try to tan, and of course I had to spend the sunny morning on the internet, packing, and cleaning. By the time I was ready to tan the sun was doing this in and out thing that made me feel like it was literally fucking me. Thankfully I came into the garage before it started spitting down. It now looks like a hurricane, and Samstyl's flight to VT via NY was CANCELLED this AM, and I am scheduled to fly out tomorrow, same airport, same airline, to Boston which last time I checked was not all that far from NY. My flight tracker claims we are still on time for departure tomorrow morning, but I don't believe it! I don't even like to drive in the rain, and although I've been flying many many times a year since birth, I still am uneasy about flying ( especially landing) in the rain.

In other news, I found my favorite camp counselor and the only other person in the universe I have found worthy to share my nickname on Facebook. It gave me the chills, seeing these girls who seemed so much older and more worldly when I was 8-14 and now I realize are only 4 years older than me which is pretty much nada at this point. I still have not been back to camp since I got kicked out the night of the play (Wizard of Oz, in which I had a plum role as Uncle Henry) which was a week before my senior year ended, taking the fall for doing the same things all my friends were doing and also the fall for every other thing that had gone wrong all summer. Soda tabs in the vending machine? Must have been me.. Laundry ladies smoking pot in star camp? Must have been me. I'm getting all upset reliving it here but it's also kind of an escape into the Things That Went Wrong And You Can't Change a Damn Thing About It. from my more pressing and immediate anxieties, The Things That Haven't Actually Gone Wrong Yet But Still Could.

Any secret, moses code or celestine prophecy reader would tell me right now, no Bohopoetgirl, the sun is not fucking you. The universe is not fucking you.

You are fucking yourself.

That's what she said.

I'm off to scan some old camp photos into the computer. :)

Break an Unwritten Rule Day

This blog is beginning to take shape, something which (again) makes me feel like a proud mama. I already have declared Monday, "Concoction Monday" and now I dub Tuesday "Break an Unwritten Rule Tuesday" although the blog is coming to you on a Wednesday morning, I am planning on having it up on time next week, so that I can make Wednesday Weird Song Wednesday, and post one of the many silly songs I have written to other songs.

Back on the Elliptical Again

Yesterday, when gearing up to go to the gym in Miami Gardens for the first time, being that I was going to the LA Fitness in Hollywood when I worked at the Powerboat Club and have not been to any gym since I quit that awful silicone enhanced place in Mid February, I was a little nervous.

And what better way to deal with being nervous than make a complete and total ASS out of myself. So I decided to break an unwritten rule, flagrantly and unabashedly.


Unwritten Rule #1

Thou Shalt Not Act as if You are in an IPod Commercial on a Machine at the Gym!

They playlist needed to be just right to keep me going without blushing or laughing too much... So I started with The Donna's Version of Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself". It was a perfect start. I started shaking my ass and moving my arms as I pumped the machine, something that was a little tricky, but still easier than dancing after one too many Blue Moon's.... At first it seemed no one was noticing, so I started to really get into it.... Then a young girl looked at me like I was crazy. Very encouraging. I started to do more arm movements and move my hips and legs more vigorously to the music....Lots of shoulder beat keeping was going down...

Dancing With Myself

I started to feel really good, free, reminding me of that episode of Friends where Phoebe is running like a freak in the park and tries to convince Monica to do it with her because "it's so liberating". Yes my friends, it is... The playlist is ESSENTIAL, because it gives you ideas for more idiotic moves than less appropriate music would inspire. Next up, "Do You Love Me" from Dirty Dancing....

Do You Love Me? I Can Really Move.... Do You Love Me? I'm in the Groove... Now That I Can Dance...Watch Me Now!


I can mash potato ( and freak out the guy cleaning the machine)
I can do the twist ( and almost hit the girl on my right and almost fall off...)
Now tell me baby, do you like it like this? ( the guy over there sure does...)

This song really captured the crowd... Some were giving me that unwritten rule breaking look I was doing this for, you know the one where people think they can stop your inappropriate behavior with a withering glance.... I know because I've been one of them!

Don't Cha Wish You Had the Chutzpah to Dance on your Machine??? And, Please don't stop the Dancing....

Back to 2 hip hop tracks, which in Miami Gardens, drew me a lot of mixed reviews... The looks were split between "White girl thinks she can shake her ass, at the gym, of all places.." to "Yo,Look at that white girl shaking it! Are those real?" Umm, Hello People! Implants were inspired by women who, like myself actually *gasp* had nice racks of the all natural persuasion..... All the while, the time and the miles and the calories were flying by.... And I was feeling good... Really freaking good.....




BohoPoetGirls Just Want to Have Fun....

This was all leading up to the big climax in act 3... I had already proven to myself that while some of the looks made me uncomfortable, I was having way too much fun not to keep pushing this social experiment to the next level. A bit of backstory is relevant here. I went to Camp Mataponi in Maine every summer growing up. Those girls were my closest friends in the universe. It's where I got my love of 80's pop. But I digress. Two of my cheerleading best friends and I wrote an entire act-it-out dance skit to this song.. And I decided to act it that dance, as much as memory, the elliptical and it's constant threats to throw my bouncing self off, and my sensibilities ( Seriously, I'm not Britney - I do have some shame)

This needs to go with the lyrics to make sense

I come home in the morning light my mother says when ( shoulder shrugging with elbows bent and hands raising in air to beat) you gonna live your life right....Oh mommy dear (wagging finger) we're not the fortunate ones.... Oh girls just want to have fun....

The phone rings, in the middle of the night, (bend knees and hold hand/phone to ear, while bouncing from right to left....) My father says what you gonna do with your life.. Oh daddy dear you know you're still number one ( shake hips and hold out one finger with other hand on hips and cocked head)

But girls they want to have fun ( during the chorus we actully do si do'd, which I couldn't accomplish on the elliptical without breaking my neck)
chorus here a little head shaking lip syncing and side to side movement worked here

Some boys take a beautiful girl and hide ( hug self and bend knees, lean forward and down, hide, in short) her away from the rest of the world

I want to be the one to walk in the sun ( stand up straight, bounce and put elbows out, hands flat under chin with the fingertips overlapping.......)

Chorus....

This was it, I had reached my ultimate threshhold of embarassment. And to my surprise, when I looked down at the machine, I had been on for almost 3o minutes already.

This is the dance that funk built....

Although I was done with my workout... I had to end with this, my walk out song...


I see you baby... Shaking that ass......

Tune in next week, when I plan to embarass myself in a totally different way... At a restaurant perhaps? the mall? A spa? Comments or emails to bohopoetgirl@gmail.com would be much appreciated. Until then, thanks for reading!