The WHOO HOOO of it all. I'll admit it--I whoo hoo occasionally. Most of the time it has a sarcastic note to it and it's really never the WHOOOOOHOOOOO rebel yell type thing. It's like the tah dah I taught my niece when she was learning to walk--very quick and to the point and sometimes, most of the time in a conversational tone.

Well, I found myself in whooo hoo hell. minus the hoooo. I signed up for Jazzercise. Mock me if you will, but it has been hotter than hell in my house (where my work out equipment resides) and I thought that it was better than dealing with the Curves nazis on a daily or every other day basis. I do not much care for the exercise whoooo'ers. Denise Austin makes me want to stab a fork through my brain with all her g.d. whooo'ing. "That's right! Feel the burn! WHOOO!" and multiply that by an hour and you get every exercise routine Denise ever did.

Now the thing about Jazzercise--I have great rhythm (SP? and I know it's not spelled right, but I'm too damn lazy to get up and look it up, but wait--there is a spell check button on Blogger so I will fix it later) and I am a great dancer, but for the life of me--they do a bunch of complicated shit right in the middle of something and it's always off beat so while everyone is going right, I'm going left. I just blame it on being uncoordinated. Okay--so I go to the first class and right off, the instructor starts whoooo'ing randomly. Then she starts "Okay, Left side of the room WHOOO. Right side of the room!!! Jackie!(jackie whoo's) BALLLZ--dead silence. Then she does it again--BALLZ BY HERSELF! whoo And if I could figure out how to make that any smaller, I would. The whole effing class--whooing. for an hour. For the love of GOD people, save your whoo's for something special--Jazzercise is not it. So the entire class consisted of me turning the wrong way and refusing to whoo. All while sweating profusely.

I will say this--the people there were much nicer than the Curves nazis. And the second night? The instructor was NOT a whoo'er. WHOOOO!