Touch Pull, Touch Pull.


A while back I mentioned that friends and I were joining a Street Jazz class, and considering we’re already at week 10ish out of 13ish, I suppose I could give an update on how the class has been going. In a single sentence: Street Jazz is singlehandedly the most ridiculous, uncomfortable form of activity I have done in my life. If you care for something a little longer, the following is how my Thursday nights have played out since January:

Arrive home from work at 5:45. Stomp about. Complain about having to go to Street Jazz and whine about how much more I’d rather watch Grey’s Anatomy and eat popcorn.

Change into my pajamas and eat dinner. Try to forget about Street Jazz.

Around 8 o’clock I get an abrupt reminder that I’m going to Street Jazz as the best friends begin to arrive at my door for our weekly pre-Street Jazz hang out sesh.

Lounge with best friends til 9:10. Complain about Street Jazz. Contemplate practicing our routine. Never actually practice routine.

At 9:10 I change out of my pajamas and we all pile into a car. We drive and listen to music and talk, unless we’re in T’s jeep which is way too loud to actually talk, so we just sing.

At 9:20 we all walk into the studio together. And Krista, our teacher, is standing at the far end of the room and she says Hiiiiii! in her happy voice and suddenly we hate Street Jazz a little less. Because it is hard to be grumpy around Krista.

And then we do warm up. And T can’t touch her toes. And Julia can’t do a pushup. And we laugh. We laugh so much.

And when we’re done warmup, Krista guides us through choreography, saying all the proper names for the moves that we refer to as The Hockey Stick Jig, or The Hula Hoop Spin. And sometimes we get frustrated because the music is too fast, and we’re too slow, or our arms refuse to follow the rhythm of our legs.

But suddenly we’re learning new choreography. And we’re counting. One and two, three and four, step five and six, seven and eight – TOUCH PULL, TOUCH PULL, TOUCH DUH-UHBLE, back left spin, jump jump stomp. Step one and two…

And we’re laughing again, because now Krista is trying to teach us to booty pop. In unison. And I’d like you to get 7 girls in a straightish line and have all of them shake their ass on the same count.

Time goes by pretty quickly, and before we know it, Krista is all “Have a great night” and we’re all smiles when we say “See you next week!”

So, overall, Street Jazz is awful when I’m not at Street Jazz. I think of all the times I was frustrated because I missed a couple counts and couldn’t catch up. I think about the things I could be doing instead of going to Street Jazz. But at the end of the day? I’m incredibly happy the five of us decided to join, as our Thursday nights have truly brought us closer together, and that in itself makes up for all the pre-dance stomping I tend to do.

Oh, and wish us luck at our performance in a couple weeks. Cause, uhm, we’re going to need it. Desperately.



  1. I’ve gotta give you credit for even taking the class! Dancing makes me very uncomfortable! It’s great that your friends are all taking the class together!

  2. I kind of feel like that about Zumba. And that’s even less dancey than Street Jazz.

  3. And this is why we need to hang out. I want to Hockey Stick Jig with you!

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