happiness is named Omar

Due to a good friend of mine who wanted me to join her in "latin Funk" class at The Gym(insert evil sounding music here) I went back to the scene of the crime...the building full of skinny people. Surprisingly, I was warmly greeted by many of my smaller friends(cause every girl is happy when there is someone fatter than them in the same room...unfortunately for me, that doesn't happen at The Gym) and my hives subsided quickly.

In walks Omar. This adorable smiling african american cutie patootie who has the most adorable bedonkadonk. Today he was wearing white boxers, in the past, he has worn plaid. But whatever color they are, they make me smile. Because Omar makes me smile.  As he plays his "latin funk" music, which is usually in some form of spanish, he sings along to all of the songs and does moves that husband #1 has yet to learn...and it all makes me happy. He breaks into these epileptic seizures of pirouttes and leaps and jumps and I stand there in awe of his energy and enthusiasm.   Due to my self imposed anxiety, the last couple of weeks have wreaked havoc on my body, my will power and my ability to relax. In 50 minutes, Omar managed to loosen me up...though, as my friend can attest, I was not loose enough to shimmy my shoulders(though, because of gravity and my age and my lack of will power, other parts of me shimmy without my wanting them to...) He exudes this happiness that makes me ask "what is he on, and how can I get me some of that?"

So my new years resolution is to be like Omar. I have no idea how I am going to do that, but it is more realistic then saying my resolution is going to be going back to The Gym....unless, of course, my friend will take me again....

Happy Monday