Whoa. Been a while.

Sooooooooooo.... I started a new job last year, haven't been bellydancing in class for longer, and I'm desperately out of practice. Serious practice, anyway. I mean, I DO do tummy isolations and Sharon Kihara's Butt Fist thing during surgery, but no real practice. Bah. I need to dance more.

I had a dream last nite about dancing. I was, in fact, on some kind of small stage with various woman, dancing. some of it was middle eastern, some of it wasn't. I remember thinking... "I have a serious power shimmy now-- how did that happen??" Then I was suddenly twirling about in a dress-type thing, big skirt, kinda like a rag skirt... all blues and silvers, and I was twirling. Twirling. Free.

i can see the liiiiiiiiiiiiight....

School is almost over, and I've managed to get back into a schedule I can handle, which includes going back to dance. I find I'm not as exhausted the day after at clinicals, so my hips are shimmying once again.

Miss Anya has taken us to new levels of dance awareness in our little bitty class, and it's bringing me some challenges, but nothing I can't handle. Yet. I'm just enjoying the sisterhood again, to be quite honest. I missed everyone. I missed the workout, and I missed doing something that can empty my brain of surgery information for an hour once a week. So it's all good.

Have a lovely week. Hopefully I can get back here a little more often and post about class. Oh, and here's a relatively new photo of me.

forgive me goddess of bellydance...

... for I have sinned.

I only bellydance in my car and in my bedroom when I'm putting on my pajamas.

It's sad, I know. I'm so damned tired all the time, though. By the time I get home from the hospital, the last thing I want to do is hang out with more women. I just want blessed silence.

the semester ends...

... and so does dance class for the holidays!! AAAHHH!! I don't get a break!! I think I'm losing my shimmy. I've worried about it this semester almost as much as I've worried about flunking out of Body Structure and Function at school. I think my ass is getting stronger, though. I do those butt-fist-things Sharon made us do in class last spring, and I swear I almost knocked myself out of my chair this morning in class. I'm sure they thought I was just trying not to pee my pants.

I sweartoGAWD that when I graduate from this stupid program and find a great new job, I'm spending the money on fabric for my mother to sew me new bellydance outfits. Yes, I AM too busy and/or lazy to learn to do my own sewing. It was a lovely thought, once, the idea that I would learn to sew. Really, I just want someone else to do it for me. Anyone want to sew me some stuff for bodywork? ha.

It has been three months since my last confession...

I haven't been do dance class in three months??!?? Feel like I'm always dancing around, though. This afternoon, I caught myself bellydancing in my car to Michael Buble doing a new rendition of Dean Martin's "Sway".

Is that dedication or WHAT??? Dedication, I tell you.

No, let's face it, I can't dance normal any longer. I don't care what it is, I can bellydance to it. Haven't tried dancing to Barry Manilow recently, but I can only assume I would be getting my hip drops going if I were to hear American Bandstand. Once a dork, always a dork. On this you can depend.

Although I've not been to class, I have been dancing my little booty off at home and at school. And in the OR --no one has asked why I keep shaking like that under my scrub gown, nor have they asked why my hands twirl about like they do when certain twirly-sounding songs come on the radio.

Which reminds me... in regards to surgeons: They really are funny, funny boys. I mean, who else would quiz you over hippie singers of the 60s and 70s whilest rummaging about in someone's innards with sharp, pointy objects? Who else would then go off on some silly tangent involving very bad colon puns?

My posture has changed, as I knew it certainly would when I began taking classes from BlondeSheena (Queen of the Laughing Snort and Feet Clapper Extraordinaire). I walk taller, which means I am suddenly very aware of how perky or non-perky my boobs are at any given moment. I keep thinking I need to find another decent bra and why is it that no one can make super-durable bras that even yours truly cannot destroy? I mean, I realize that I have some really great lats, but dammit... every time I find a bra that fits right, I get it all stretched out from doing massage. What kind of crap is that?

But I digress. I noticed something today which I mention to you out of both shock and dismay as well as a little bit of fear.

I have begun to swish when I walk.

Me.

Swish.

I know. It's weird.

Don't tell my mom I found my girlie gene, though, because next thing you know, she'll be trying to get me into flowy yellow dresses with bows and shoes with heels on them... and pantyhose. God no, please, don't tell my mom.

So here I am, shimmying, hip dropping, standing tall, sticking out my personality and swishing when I walk.

I think I've finally actually found my Inner Goddess. I'm so glad that she's comfortable in jeans and a tshirt and doesn't require (although she may secretly want and even wish for sometimes) long, flowy dresses or long hair. Usually, she's just happy with a little dun-tek-a-tek and the short, spiky hair inspired so long ago by Annie Lennox and her big cow eyes.

Or maybe I was the one with the big cow eyes. I don't remember. Point being... all hell's gonna break loose before too long, once this Goddess has feet to pavement and suitcase in hand. Watch out. I'm on my way, world.

holy schnikeees!!

Been a while since I've written anything here, hm? School started about a month ago, and I've not been to dance in ages. I think I have to just let it go this semester. I have so much damned homework I can't see straight. I shimmy around at school, though, and now everyone knows I bellydance and that I'm a massage therapist. Oh yeah, I'm a popular girl, you know it.

One of my nieces started taking a bellydance class from one of the girls of TribalTique out in Ft. Collins, CO. She's now addicted. I've copied every single bellydance song I own onto miscellaneous cds for her to groove to, so she can never say she doesn't have dance music. Can't wait to see what kind of costuming she comes up with, being as how she is the little drama girl in the family.

Okay, that's all folks. I've got microbiology to work on, various medical terms to look up, and a chapter or two on the nervous system to read. Go about your day with joy.

nuttin' honey

Ahhhhhhhhh a week off from bellydance. I think I will have needed it. Getting ready to start school, so my brain and my body are going different directions lately. I need a day off.

That's all. Bleh.

finally! some inspiration!!

I wandered around online last nite, looking at some old bellydance websites I hadn't been to for a while, loking for inspiration.

I went to www.gothicbellydance.com first to see if they had any new stuff there. The pictures are great... costumes are groovy, too, but I've been waiting forEVER for them to put some video up (like they keep saying they will) and they still haven't. So instead I followed some of the links to other dancer sites, and ended up at the website for the troupe Khafif. Musta spent an hour there, watching videos, reading about them and stuff.

OH MY GOD, girls! You should totally go check them out:

www.khafif.com

I have been craving-- CRAVING --to watch bellydancers who are not only enjoying themselves while they dance, but who make it completely joyful for US to watch. I have NEVER before watched a bellydancer who was so good and the dance so beautiful that they nearly made me cry. Seriously, now!! I love Rachel Brice and Sharon Kihara of The Indigo, but as much as I love to watch them, I've not felt moved to tears watching them. This troupe did it for me.

I loved Neefa's "Tribally Inspired" video so much I watched it not twice, but three times... and I made my husband come watch it, too. hahaha He was saying "check out those snake arms!" while I was simply staring in awe and nodding. And I gotta know... Is Safa's ribcage even attached to her?? Holy cow!! How does she DO THAT!!??

I got a huge giggle out of the video from "Spirit of the Tribes 2004". The music was so great (I love to see dancers who can get out of the middle eastern rut and dance to something really nontraditional)! Reminded me of going to camp for dance team in high school-- someone had whipped up a routine to Stray Cat Strut, ears and all, just like these guys did in theirs. How fun!! Felt very... Carnivale to me. I loved it!

I've been whining and complaining for about a month now about how every time I turn around, someone's doing some lazy cabaret, sloppy tribal, uninspiring bellydance from coast to coast, and I was afraid that I was starting to become a bellydance snob or something. I haven't been dancing long myself (a year and a half), and I know my limitations. I would never go perform simply because I've got a kick ass costume and some groovy music; I've gotta have the moves down, too. I've seen so many troupes perform (both live and online/on video) who have fantastic websites, great costumes, great music and who are (and I hate to say it) just not performance-worthy at all. I'm all for getting out there and doing your thing, but daaaaaaang... gimme something, girls!!

Ok, that's my soapbox for the moment. Go watch Khafif. They rock.

a new month, a new adventure

Anya "informed me" that I'm doing henna at the studio event coming up this month. Apparently I'm the creative one. ha. Sooooo... today I went by India Emporium and bought a tube-o-henna and set to work practicing on myself. The inside of my arm is quite lovely, I think. Made a bunch of swirly vine things there. My foot has some fun squigglies about it, along with my big toe.

Issues? The applicator thing sucks. If I use this stuff, I'm gonna have to go buy a decent applicator with a fine point, because the one that came with it was completely poopy. Had a huge slit in the side of it, so I wrapped a mini-post-it note thing around it and taped it down so it wouldn't move. That was fine, but the tip itself was too fat anyway, so more came out than I wanted. I decided, then, that I would get a few new applicator bottles~~ short, fat ones that are easier to hold onto. That way I can squidge the original tube around and mix the henna a bit better so it won't be as inconsistent as it was tonite.

Plusses? It smells good, it's of decent quality for being so freaking cheap, and it dries pretty fast, despite my having laid it on thick. We'll see how it appears to have stained come tomorrow, though. I'll just keep drawing on myself until I run out of space, I suppose. My husband will just laugh at me, like he usually does, which implies great immaturity on my part. In my world, it just means I'm being my usual wonderfully creative and free-spirited self. So screw him.

Where was I?

OH, yeah. Had dance last nite, which was more fun than I had anticipated. Not that dance is never fun, I had a shitty day, emotionally... and getting myself together enough to be in public much less shaking my ass in public, much less waving my arms around with an acceptable amount of "tay" was just not looking to be in the cards.

I had to get myself dressed up and in some kind of character before I went to class. Ended up slapping a mini turban on my head and wearing my cool necklace from The Red Camel, which helped me feel a little more regal and less like a big pile of mushy icky-ness. Wore my long-sleeved leotard and my yoga pants, which helped me feel a little less frumpy, then threw on my belt that I made for Tribal Indulgence in April. It all came together nicely, and I know I was overdressed for class, but... dammit... I needed some assistance in feeling a little more human~~ not to mention a little more beautiful.

Did some fun stuff in class, had some more new girls, and watched Anya do her thing in a little demo. Good class. Had a lot of giggling going on, and I needed that, too. KiltGirl was in a rare wild-girl mood, which I totally enjoyed. She's coming out of her little Army Brat reserved dance attitude thing. Good for her. She's finding herself in this dance bit, too.

Now... back to the henna. I wonder how much of my body I can cover with this stuff with one big tube? Think I will freak my massage clients out, all overed in pseudo-tattoos? Ask me how concerned I really am about it. Go ahead.

dance nite

Class tonite. I was not into the twirling. I don't know why, but tonite I was not feeling the twirl. My hips wanted to bounce about and do combinations. I wanted to do chest figure-8s. I wanted to do mayas. I wanted to groove, baby, yeah!

I'm not opposed to twirling about. I don't mind doing the 3-step turns. Tonite my chakras did not want opening. My first chakra was all about bouncing about and being its usual tribal self. The rest of me was goin', "Yeahhhhhhhh but we're tired. YOU dance."

My belly didn't even want to cooperate, and that's unusual. I am mostly all for doing belly rolls and all that. My chest lifts were even promising tonite. The belly said, "No way, man, you had too much Dr. Pepper last nite, and I'm bloated. Let the hips dance instead."

So while I waited in line for my turn to 3-point turn across the floor, I bounced my hips about. I hoped to maybe get in the mood to twirl by the time the other 11 girls had twirled, but it was not to be. I felt like Drill Team Tadi, back in school, trying not to trip over my own feet or fall on my ass. Oh god, even Anya said, "too cheerleader-y" on my first twirl about. Yeah, I know. Once a drill team girl, always a drill team girl. Where are those stupid pompoms? I know they're around here somewhere. Is it pathetic that even almost 20 years later, I still remember a routine from my freshman year of high school?

Which reminds me... Did you know that Morris Day and The Time are going to be in Kansas City? I wonder if he'd let me onstage with my pompoms while he does Jungle Love.

Oh yeah, stunning. And no, those are NOT my boobs up there. They were balloons. And I was working on my inner porn star.

Shut up.