Fun Times

Our local bellydance performance was really fun. I lived through my solo just fine (a surprise to me after stressing so much over it). I am really comfortable dancing in a group but when it comes to solo work...gulp! Very intimidating.

I kept debating what music to dance to. At first it was "definitely Karshilama", then, "maybe not", then "for sure not", then, "what the heck", so I ended up doing a Karshilama, but the obsessing and indecisiveness were very counter-productive. My former dance teacher always encouraged me to improv rather than choreograph, so I did, and I give myself extra credit for going out on that limb!

(And for you belly dance purists, yes I did do veil work with it, but I needed that veil. I think it's a kind of security blanket for me. It gives my arms something to do, and it's almost like having a swirly, silk dance partner.)

Most dancers don't like Karshilama for some reason. It is a very fast 9/8 rhythm, and there are fun traditional moves that go with it, mostly jumping and bouncing. My former teacher said when she would dance at Greek restaurants the drummers would challenge the dancers to keep up with the Karshilama and only the best dancers had the stamina to last as long as the drummers played (I'm sure my teacher was one of them, because in her sixties she would come and give our troupe a group lesson and kick all our butts!)

At any rate I did it, but realized afterward that I forgot to take off my glasses. Duh! I always dance with my glasses off so I can't see the audience and thus I'm much less nervous. Oh well! I also did a group dance and then later we had a free dance with all the dancers.

Here's a group shot. Amazingly, several of these gals qualify for the senior discount, but you'd never guess it by their energy and talent.

An Exciting, Edge-Of -Your -Seat Update

Well, apparently posting a lot on my blog was not one of my new year's resolutions! There's been a lot going on, just nothing interesting, but I'll post about it anyway, because what the heck, I'm bored and don't have anything else to do at the moment (yeah, yeah, those dishes can wait!)

I went back to the casino for more paperwork, and then was sent home with even MORE paperwork--a 23 page application for a gaming license that every casino employee must have. It's pretty intense. I had to list all my jobs (or lack there of) and residences for the last 15 years. Plus financial info, spouse info, criminal record info (luckily nothing to report there) and much more.

It was a test of my resolve to be employed as well as a test of my memory recall. Maybe that's how they weed out the wussies, I don't know! I go back this coming Tuesday and Wednesday for "employee orientation", and then hopefully they'll put me to work!

Nat and Shel have been getting in touch with their dramatic side and writing plays for the guinea pigs to act out. They did their own version of Rapunzel, and the pigs cooperated quite nicely.

Mike is selling one of his barbecues to help out our financial situation, and looks like the sale will go through this week. He also has his old Landcruiser on the market. He just got a really good insurance job (water damage from a broken pipe) that will be fairly lucrative too. Things are looking up a bit, thank goodness!

My dance friend got us into Rakkasah again this year. There's one day to call in for a spot, and she spent 5 (yes FIVE) hours redialing to get in. Wow! I hope my new job will let me have that day off (it's not until March).

The local dance girls here are all performing on Sunday, and I'm going to go out of my comfort zone and do a solo. I usually just dance with my troupe, but what the hay, I'm feeling pretty confident (or I was when I signed up for it). I finally got around to choosing my music after about 4 days of listening to stuff and decided to do a Karshilama which is a really fast 9/8 Turkish rhythm that has very bouncy (exhausting) traditional steps. No one else seems to like it except me, so I'm fairly confident that my solo will be unique. Most of the Karshilamas I had on cd were somewhere around 4 minutes long, but I finally found one that's only 2 1/2 minutes. I feel confident I can do that without dropping dead, so now I have to decide what to wear...that's the hardest part of performing after all!

That now concludes this fascinating update. You're welcome.

Pictures from our Dance Performance

Our troupe danced at a local festival this weekend. Here are some photos. We also had a professional photographer come and take pictures of us getting ready and rehearsing. Can't wait to see those, but for now these will do:

Belly Dance and Mormonism

A couple years ago, I had a discussion with my mentor and belly dance teacher Shara, about how weird I felt as LDS and a belly dancer, and that I felt like I had to keep those two aspects of my life separate from each other, that if people from my church found out I was a belly dancer I would be ostracized and conversely, if the group of women I danced with found out I was LDS, they might think differently of me (especially since Wicca is fairly prevalent in the belly dance community).

It was about this time that PBS aired the documentary called "The Mormons". Shara watched it and came across this little tidbit about dance and Mormonism:

There is, in the Mormon faith, a kind of celebration of the physical which I think is a little bit outside the Christian mainstream. When the Saints moved west to Utah, one observer in the 1850s noted that they had schools in most every block but that every night, the schools were converted into dancing schools. And he observed with some displeasure that Mormons taught their children that they should go to school but they must go to dancing school.
And I think that there's a connection between the place of dancing in Mormon history and the concept of an embodied God. Because we believe that God the Father, as well as Jesus Christ, are physical, embodied beings, that elevates the body to a heavenly status. And I think there's a kind of exuberance and celebration that is, in many ways, a result of that same collapse of sacred distance that was so central to Joseph Smith's thinking.
Instead of denigrating the things of the body in order to elevate the things of the spirit, Joseph always argued that it was the successful incorporation of both that culminated in a fullness of joy. And so dancing, I think, is in many ways, just an emblem or a symbol of a kind of righteous reveling in the physical tabernacle that we believe is a stage on our way to godliness itself.

Belly dance has had in the past, a reputation as a "dance of seduction" and the old stereotype of the sultan with his scantily clad harem dancers is still what a lot of people conjure up when they hear "belly dance".

Our church in particular is very conservative, especially when it comes to dressing modestly, but is a belly dancer's costume any more scandalous than a ballet dancer or ballroom dancer? For the most part, we belly dancers are revealing a lot less, but because of the bad rap our dance has gotten, people often assume we're doing something shameful.

Shara would always tell me, "Dance is an expression of your soul". That has helped me feel good about blending these two aspects of my life, and being proud of both of them.

Notes on the Bellydance Festival

Notes from the festival:

Belly dance is really becoming more of a dance for women-by women than the nightclub cabaret dance it used to be. It has truly evolved into many different forms. I like that it is a dance that any and all women can feel comfortable engaging in. With that said:

Some women really embrace their size and show it off. My hat is off to them. It can be a little shocking at first to see a very large woman dancing and showing her bare mid-drift, but then when you see them dance with confidence and skill it changes your whole perspective. And it also helps me be kinder to myself. If a 200+ woman can be confident and happy in her skin, then I shouldn't be picking my minor flaws apart and feeling bad about myself.

I should've used self-tanner, but if I take the above paragraph to heart, I can embrace my blindingly white skin that is devoid of any pigment whatsoever and show it off and be proud of it. (But next time I'm using self-tanner.)

As a former cosmetologist (I wish I would've kept my license current, dumb, dumb, but I digress...) it bothered me that so many people put so much effort into their make-up and costumes but didn't do anything with their hair. There seems to be a stereotype that belly dancers have to have long flowing hair, and I saw a majority of women with the long flowing hair who put it in braids, then brushed it out right before performing so that they had long flowing frizz. I think just simply leaving it straight (or straightening it) or putting some big loose curls in it would've been much more flattering and up to date. There were a couple women who had naturally tight ringlet type hair and this is the exception. Their hair was beautiful left in it's natural kinda frizzy state.

On the other hand, the true tribal girls had hair that was more like a work of art than a hair-do.


Costuming is an art in and of itself. One tribal group came out and I swear they were wearing their entire costume closets all at once. They had harem pants under several skirts, several belts and sashes layered over that, then coin belts, several tops with a fancy costume bra on top, layers of necklaces, earrings, then whatever was left over they used to wrap in and around their hair. I can't even imagine what all that weighs, let alone how long it takes to assemble! Truly remarkable. (The photo below shows a typical troupe's costuming, not necessarily the one I'm referring to).

I'm really getting to know a lot of women in the greater belly dance community, from vendors to dancers to teachers. It's really neat.

The festival was just a wonderful mixture of sights and sounds and people and I'm still digesting and absorbing it all. I can't wait to do it again next year.

Goin' Tribal

Tomorrow I'm heading out to the bay area to a belly dance festival. I have gone to this festival 3 years in a row now, but this year I get to perform! The gals I danced with at Rakkasah got a dance spot at this festival for us.

All of 5 weeks ago we chose some music, divided it into 3 sections, each took a part and choreographed it then brought it all together in our twice weekly rehearsals. We had one more gal join us, and we are all really happy about our choreography and how it all worked out.

We are dancing to Theivery Corporation's Illumination, and then will have 2 duets to fill our 15 minute time slot.

This festival generally lands near my birthday, so it's becoming my traditional annual weekend get-away. I'm so excited.

Our costuming for Rakkasah was more of a gypsy inspired theme,

this performance is more Tribal. My costume is: red harem pants, black skirt, tribal tassel belt, silver coin belt (I'm bringing two because I can't decide which one), coin bra, black stretch velvet top, silver necklace, bindis, and a gold chiffon veil for the duet I'm doing.

I've got my false eyelashes and bold make-up packed already.

This is basically a bunch of old ladies (at 44 I'm the youngest in our group) playing dress-up, but don't tell anyone! We are having waaayyy too much fun!

Weekend Update-Define Normal Style

We had an eventful and fun weekend. It started by seeing Bang Bang You're Dead a drama production that Sis was in. It was about a school shooting. Sis played one of the victims who comes back to haunt the shooter and ask, "Why me?" It was incredibly powerful and well done. I don't think I ever want to see my daughter on stage listing the things she'll never accomplish because she died too young ever again though. It made my throat want to close up. It was weird, but good, in a weird way...

Sis and her boyfriend after their performance in BANG BANG YOU'RE DEAD Creepy, no?

Saturday I attended a hafla (that's what we bellydance folks call a party) where we were challenged to perform to a non-bellydance song. I returned to my country roots and chose John Anderson's Straight Tequila Night to dance to. What a great time.

Dancing to Straight Tequila Night

Playing with a pair of Isis Wings

Moo convinced me to lop off her hair. This child has always had the most gorgeous head of hair. I kept it super long for quite a while, well until it got tangled up the wheels of a scooter board when she was in kindergarten and the teacher had to cut a chunk out to free her. We cut it to her shoulders around Christmas, but she's been bugging since then to have it up to her chin. So I did it. The kid has enough hair for 3 people, so it took a couple days to get it just right. A bob this short is not very forgiving. Of course it looks really cute on her. She's an adorable kid, and she loves it which is the main thing.

Sis had a bunch of friends over on Saturday for a BBQ and party and sleep over. I made my famous Dirty Snow Cake, which is white cake with crushed up Oreos in it, filled with cream with more crushed Oreos, and then frosted with whipped cream. It's sooooo good!

Yesterday I told Sis I wanted to take her to the movies for her birthday. She's been so busy with play rehearsals and friends and I've been busy with kids and dance, that we really haven't spent much time together. We saw Made of Honor. It was really enjoyable. Of course it was predictable, but who cares since it was full of Patrick Dempsey goodness, and the guy who played Colin was no slouch either.

We then went to Applebee's and had salads. I had the Chinese chicken and Sis had the shrimp. I had their strawberry limeade which was so darned good. We finished by sharing a Triple Chocolate Meltdown dessert--a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Soooooo incredibly yummy!

Triple Chocolate Meltdown in all it's glory

BUT to top it all off, this is what Sis posted on her myspace:
my mom treated me to a girl's day out today.


we went to the movies
and then shopping
and then applebees.


it's always nice to have a day out with just me and my mom, it's rare that i ever get her all to myself.


and when i do i soak up every minute of it and we usually end up laughing our faces off and i wouldn't want it any other way.


she wrote about me on her blog for my birthday and i just read it and it made me cry.


im pretty much a sobbing mess right now.


but it's the good kind of crying.


she is my role model, my best friend, my comic relief, and above all my mother.


i love her and appreciate her more than anything.


Wow, just wow, what else is a mom to say? You can all say "awwwww" now. Thankyouverymuch.

My 100th Post! aka Beware Long Rambling Post Ahead

In honor of my 100th post, and in following with the great blogging tradition, I am listing 100 random things...some about me, some about my family, and I sincerely hope it doesn't turn into the most rambling and inexplicably boring post ever. So here goes nuthin'...

1. I was a 9lb baby with chubby cheeks and a full head of black hair.
2. My mom had a best friend who was a hairdresser, so my mom's hair color changed on an almost weekly basis. Sometimes she was a platinum blonde, sometimes a bright redhead, sometimes a brunette, she always kept us guessing!

3. My mom's hairdressing friend used to try out new techniques on my mom before she used them on the paying customers. My mom remembers having her pulled through a frosting cap, and commenting, "Ouch, this will NEVER catch on!"
4.Fast forward 25 years to her and I frosting each other's hair at our dining room table. Mom never really got the hang of going into the holes at an angle with the crochet hook, and I swear she pulled half my scalp through the cap in the process. Ouch indeed!
5. My sister got stuck with the "pixie" hair cut as a child. Again, I think this had to do with mom's friend and the popularity of Mia Farrow and Twiggy.

6. My uncle committed suicide when I was 6. I still remember being in our living room when I was told about it. I don't think my dad was ever the same after that.
7. My favorite number has always been 7.
8. When I was little I thought the perfect age to be would be 17. I figured you were grown up, but not yet "old". My thoughts changed when I actually experienced being 17.
9. My parents took us on wonderful family vacations when we were growing up, such as:
10. Banff, Canada
11. Jackson Hole Wyoming, and the Grand Tetons
12. Yellowstone
13. Glacier National Park
14. Zion and Bryce Canyon
15. The Grand Canyon
16. Disneyland!

17. One of the highlights of our trips would be when mom and dad would let my sister and I go to a souvenir store to buy a memento.
18. I was horse crazy. I could take or leave the boys, but dreamed of horses all the time.
19. My parents probably spent the equivalent of a decent college education on giving me horseback rides at riding stables.
20. I say it was money well spent!
21. I wanted to be a boy when I was little, and enjoyed playing with the neighbor boys more than I did their sister.
22. We almost always played cowboys, and when the sun would go behind a cloud, we would pretend that it was nighttime.
23. I had a ratty old cowboy hat that I would tuck my long hair under.
24. When I was 6 my mom let me get my hair cut short like a boy's.
25. It was not attractive.
26. I didn't care.

27. My sister and I had to share a room until I was 13 and she was 17.
28. She was always neat and tidy, I was, shall we say, NOT.
29. It's a wonder she didn't kill me and hide my body under the disaster area that was my half of our room.
30. My dad worked the swing shift as a railroad engineer, so during the week it was just mom, my sister and I together in the evenings.
31. We would often have "catch as catch can" for dinner, as my mom would call it. Sometimes this meant baking a batch of blueberry muffins and eating the entire dozen, or fixing soup and a sandwich or even a just bagels and cream cheese. I liked these low-key nights.
32. We would often go out for soup and half a sandwich at our favorite pie place. The soup and sandwich was just a formality and the sooner we got that out of the way the sooner we could do what we were really there for -- eating pie!
33. My dad lived to embarrass the heck out of us.
34. When we would go to the mall, he would hang back, so we wouldn't have to be seen walking with our parents, but then would kick off his shoe and send it flying by us. Oh, the horror!
35. He would also stop in front of the Hammond Organ store and dance to the goofy music that the salesmen would play. Oh, the horror, part II!
36. I think it's hilarious now, and following his example, enjoy embarrassing the heck out of my own kids!
37. I am deathly afraid of water. Especially deep water and fast flowing water.
38. I really don't even like taking a bath. It's completely irrational.
39. I am not afraid of snakes however, and think they are one of the coolest creatures ever.
40.100 is a lot of things to think up.
41. I was a painfully shy child.
42. I finally broke out of my shell a bit after the birth of my first child, when it became easy to make small talk with people about my baby boy.
43. Shyness held me back and because of that I missed out on a lot of fun things and was quite lonely as well.
44. I quit playing the saxophone in 6th grade when I found out that we would have to perform a short piece on stage.
45. I never went to a school dance (with the exception of my 8th grade graduation dance where I actually shared a slow dance with my crush, and then returned to the wall where I stayed firmly planted the rest of the evening).
48. I avoided teen parties at all costs, even going so far as to choose sitting in my boyfriend's truck for 2 hours rather than go in and attend the party with him.
49. I've made great strides since then and done things I thought I never would like:
50. I became a La Leche League leader and conducted meetings.
51. Danced in public!
52. Taught dance classes.
53. Said the opening and closing prayer at church (though not without some difficulty!)
54. I had a serious boyfriend at the age of 14.
55. He lived two houses down, my sister's future husband was our direct next door neighbor. Tracy and I met them within a couple months of moving into our new house.  
56. I dated my boyfriend from age 14-20, and he was 3 years older than I was. We were both transplanted from the mountains to the city and instantly bonded over that and spent all our time camping, 4 wheeling and dirt biking.
57. I considered him my best friend, and preferred hanging out with him and his buddies working on cars and doing guy things rather than hanging out with girls and dealing with their cattiness and drama.
58. I was WAY too young to have a serious relationship, and my mom said much later, that she didn't really want to allow it, but he seemed to be the only one that could make me happy at the time. I was a troubled teen before I met him and definitely not headed in a good direction. My parents adored him and he never failed to get me home on time (despite any misadventures, truck stuck in the mud, broken down vehicle issues we had).
59. When we first got together we had to bump start his pickup, so I would happily get out and push that thing any time so we could get on with our adventures!
60. I gave up alcohol at the ripe old age of 17.
61. After trying to fit in and drink with the others in our group for a couple years, I decided that I really didn't like the taste of alcohol, and I really didn't want to be in an altered state of consciousness--ever.
62. I celebrated my 21st birthday completely sober and I have no interest in drinking alcohol whatsoever.
63. My grandma Lou had a saying, "You're meaner than cat crap under a bed!"
64. My mom's housekeeping advice to me when I moved out was, "If you keep your dishes done and your beds made, everyone will think you're a good housekeeper."
65. My dad's housekeeping advice to me when I moved out was, "Clean the pee out of the bathroom, and cook the snot out the eggs."
66. I'm better at following my dad's housekeeping advice.
67. The first and last time I went to Yosemite I was 5 years old.
68. I live 2 hours from Yosemite and am beginning to feel guilty for not visiting it, since people travel from all over the world to do so.
69. I hate scary books and movies.
70. As a teenager I read Steven King's Salem's Lot, and have not picked up one of his books since.
71. I wanted to be a forest ranger when I grew up.
72. If I could start my career path over I would pursue midwifery.
73. We had a big orange tabby named Poopsie when we were growing up. I think my mom named him.
74. We also had cats named Marshmallow, Weebs and Bussy. I'm at fault for naming the last one.
75. Twenty-five more to go...who's still with me?
76. Poopsie would actually play hide-and-seek with me. I would put him in the laundry room, then run off to hide, and then call him. He would then come find me, usually by attacking me.
77. During my afore-mentioned angst-ridden teen years I became a habitual truant.
78. When my parents found out, they told me to just stay home, because they'd rather have me home and know where I was, than to have me cutting school and doing who-knows-what.
79. I took the proficiency exam at 17 and got my diploma.

80. After I received my diploma my parents told me, "Now go get a job".
81. The first job I got was washing dogs at a dog groomer. This is when reality set in.
82. I then decided to go to Beauty College and got my cosmetology license when I was 18.
83. I never worked in a salon, but I would go to people's homes and do their hair, and I had a fairly large clientèle of customers.
84. I put myself through junior college by working as a printer and getting scholarships.
85. Even though I got married and had a baby during my 2 years at college, I still graduated with my class.
86. ...and I graduated with honors, which is still one of my proudest accomplishments.
87. I began belly dance classes at the ripe old age of 38.
88. I was so lame and uncoordinated, that the instructor kindly suggested that maybe I should take a few private classes with her before continuing with the beginner's class.
89. For some reason I didn't get discouraged, and I followed her advice.
90. Part of it was that I was intrigued by the dance and really wanted to learn, the other part was that it was an hour and a half (including driving time) all to myself.
91. Almost 6 years later, I am a confident dancer, and more importantly, a confident person.

92. I refuse to go on roller coasters and thrill rides. They're in the same classification as scary books and movies, which I deem unnecessary torture.
93. My most overused phrase is, "For the love of Pete!"
94. One of the only good things to come out of losing my mom was that my sister and I are now much closer. My mom used to be our unintentional "go-between" by relaying to me what my sister was doing and vice versa so that we rarely talked to each other.

95. A long phone call with my sister is now one of my favorite things.
96. One of my favorite quotes is from Eleanor Roosevelt, "Women are like teabags. We don't know our true strength until we are in hot water!" I liken this quote to childbirth. I didn't know how strong I was until I went through the birth of my children.
97. I definitely felt empowered and proud after childbirth. I have had all 4 without any medical interventions or drugs, and 2 without the so-called "luxury" of a hospital.
98. Another quote I love, that I just recently discovered on another blog, Cairnsliving, is from CS Lewis, "Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one." Truer words were never spoken.
99. I love to ride motorcycles, but am refraining because I need to stay in one piece for my children.
100. My kids are my greatest inspiration, my greatest blessing, and have been my greatest teachers. How lucky I am to be their mom!

And now a hearty pat on the back if you made it to the end of this post!

Sometimes Life Gets in the Way of Blogging

I've been a little MIA this week, just because of busy-ness (as opposed to business, I guess).

I started back rehearsing with my old troupe on Tuesday night. We will be performing at our local American Cancer Society's Relay for Life at the end of April. After watching other troupes perform at Rakkasah I am now inspired to re-vamp our old choreographies and "kick it up a notch" plus start working on some new ones. Luckily my troupe mates are into it too.

Suey got skunked. Not enough to make her really stinky, in fact by the end of the day we couldn't even smell it on her, but it was enough to bring the smell into the house and onto the carpets. I got down on my hands and knees and sniffed every foot of our bedroom carpet (not my finest hour, I'll admit) and couldn't smell skunk in any particular spot, but our room reeked of it. I've been using a lot of odor neutralizer and I think I finally got it to go away, well either that or we're just used to it now!

The funny thing about skunk smell is that when it's fresh on the dog like that it doesn't smell like skunk at first (and yes unfortunately I do have experience with this). It smells more like burnt rubber or something. It takes a few minutes for the smell to take on the traditional skunkiness. I think that Suey ran in from getting hit, and rubbed it off on our carpet while we were still wandering around wondering where that burning smell was coming from. But the good news--skunks are a sure sign of spring!

Thursday I spent time in Natalie's class helping the kids dye eggs for today's hunt which I'll be going to help out with as well. It was funny that to some kids dying eggs seemed a little foreign. They weren't sure what to do, whereas others were old hands and even knew about dipping them in one color then in another for different effects. Some didn't really get the concept of the egg being fragile and would plop it into the dye with a thud. There were plenty of dyed finger tips, including mine (and a few cracked eggs as well!)

Then there was the kids' Open House night-a night I always look forward to...we were one of the first there and one of the last to leave. We had to go to the book fair, then visit the girls' classrooms, then we visited the first grade classes so Nat could see what she's in for next year, then we visited nearly all the other classes. Since all my kids have gone to this little school, I know almost all the teachers and they like to know what Cam and Sis are up to now, and the girls just like to be social like their dad.

It struck me that I've had all of my kids go through the same kindergarten room. Each year I've volunteered in the classroom and each year was a lot like the others. The same little projects like the sunflowers in the fall, pandas at Chinese New Year, and portraits of Martin Luther King Jr. I'm very much a veteran of tempura paint and glue sticks. I will miss it now that my last one is finishing up her year.

I'm finishing up my week with last minute preparations for Easter. It's so early this year! I really am not ready yet. I haven't even bought eggs to dye yet. Tomorrow we'll be busy with that, and I know it will be a fun weekend.

Rakkasah Part II

It was a nice break for me to get away to Rakkasah. I went by myself and left my little girls preparing for a sleep over at a friend's house. This would be Nat's first sleep over ever, so I was a bit nervous to not be able to hover over the phone in case she might need me in the middle of the night. Of course she was fine and that was probably because I was already gone when she got picked up so my anxiety wasn't passed on to her.

I was able to stay at my best friend from college's house on Friday night, and it was fantastic to have time to catch up with her and her family. She, like me, has older kids and younger kids, and when I saw her 2 little girls I immediately missed my own and started "momming" them.

I made the girls laugh when they brought their hamsters out to show me because I picked one up and put it into my shirt like I do with our little hammy, Baby.

The next day I went back to the festival. I had the opportunity to volunteer for a vendor and help at her booth. She was short-staffed so I worked about 4 1/2 hours. My job was to fold purchases, wrap them in tissue, bag them, put fliers in each bag and then offer the customer a piece of chocolate. I know, tough job, but someone had to do it! It was quite busy, so time flew by and we were close enough to see the main stage. After my shift I was paid in store credit, and she was very generous, so I was able to come home with some cool new dance gear and all it cost me was my time!

I spent the rest of the afternoon watching dancers. There were several who traveled from as far Germany and Japan! It was terrific to sit and watch for as long as I wanted without having to worry if someone was bored, or hungry, or needed to go to the bathroom. True freedom for a mom!

I drove home that night and the next day I felt refreshed and invigorated and renewed. So much so that I actually tackled my bedroom, my bathroom AND the girls' room. It's amazing what a little me time can do for my attitude!

Rakkasah Part I

I danced at Rakkasah this weekend! It's billed as the largest bellydance festival in the world and I've always wanted to go, so this year I was determined to attend (as a spectator). However, a friend I met in a class this fall happened to call on the official "call-in" day and got a troupe spot. This in itself was nothing short of a miracle as there is only one day when all the dancers who desire a spot call in to try to get booked. My friend spent 3 hours hitting redial and somehow got through. She requested a troupe spot and quickly made up a name for her troupe. After this she sent out the word that she wrangled a coveted dance spot, but now needed dancers to form a troupe. Of course, I jumped at the chance.

As the event got closer, I kept getting more and more nervous. We rehearsed the Wednesday before, and I kept completely losing my place in the dances and was making stupid mistakes. Strangely when I arrived on Friday my nervousness was gone and replaced with excitement. Just before we went on I thought to myself, "Why aren't I a nervous wreck?" and while I was actually on stage I kept thinking, "I'm dancing at Rakkasah!!!" It was really fun, and I only had one minor screw up. Yay!

I guess the biggest thing is that when I took a local bellydance class some 5 years ago, I would have never thought of myself performing AT ALL, let alone at Rakkasah. You see I had never danced IN MY LIFE. I was so painfully shy that I never went to school dances, didn't dance at my own weddings (or anyone else's for that matter), and always made a point of avoiding any occasion that involved publicly moving to music.

I was so lame that when I started classes, my teacher suggested I take a few private lessons with her before even starting the beginning class. We're talking awkward. For some reason I stuck it out and started really enjoying it. I began to get to know other women who bellydanced and was struck by how accepting they were of their own (imperfect and poochy) bodies and how accepting they were of each other. It was also a great workout for my then 8-month post-prego body.

I find troupe dancing to be rather safe, so now my next challenge is to work on a solo performance.

So I've learned that it's never too late to try something new, and that one should never underestimate their own potential, after all, I DANCED AT RAKKASAH!!!

A Date with the Superstars

Mike and I had an actual date--just the two of us--on Friday night. This is a very rare occasion indeed. I think the last time we went out alone was sometime last April when we went to see Dr Laura's One Woman Show (I pretty much dragged him with me, but he ended up enjoying it). Even our last anniversary--our 10th, we had to take the girls to dinner with us for lack of a sitter. This time we went to see the Bellydance Superstars.

I bought my tickets as soon as I found out they were coming to our area back in November. I had seen their show last March, and couldn't wait to see them again. My niece was originally going to go with me, but with her on bed rest now, I had an extra ticket.

Mike is always a little bit clueless and I think it's because he really doesn't listen all that well, so he thought I was going to be performing! Ha! I had to explain that this wasn't a festival for local amateurs, but an actual show, with world class dancers. I still don't think he knew what to expect but he was willing to go.

I got fantastic seats, 4th row back right in the center. We sat next to an older couple and as Mike always does, he struck up a conversation with them. Turns out they were locals with season tickets to the performing arts center, and they come to every show. When Mike told the woman that I bellydance, she made a couple comments about him "reaping the rewards" and that maybe I would like a pole installed. Luckily I was in a good mood, and let the comments go. Usually I don't hesitate to put someone straight on the fact that it's not a dance to seduce men with and it has nothing to do with stripping. I just hoped that she would catch on to that by the end of the show.

The show was amazing! These women are so incredibly talented. The producer makes a point of putting on a very high caliber show to help promote bellydance in a positive way as a legitimate dance form and to get rid of some of the old false stereotypes such as the lady next to us expressed.

I realized when I was watching the show, and clapping along with the music, and smiling and oooing and ahhhing at the amazing dancing, that dance really is an expression of emotion for me. My teen daughter has accused me of being robotic in my emotions, and I think that dance is an outlet for me--it's a time that I really let go, in a way. My first teacher always said that dance should be an expression of your soul, and to me it really is.

On our way home, Mike says to me, "Not that you're not a good dancer or anything, but those women tonight were really good!" I told him I was not offended and in fact was pleased that he noticed their level of talent and not just their incredible physical beauty. That really was the whole point, after all. I told him that I know I'm just a "baby dancer" compared to them, but I'm totally ok with that.

The Great and Powerful BOZ

I had the pleasure of going to a belly dance workshop this weekend with the famous Jim Boz. Yes, a male belly dancer and a world renowned performer and instructor. I have seen him perform before, and he is incredible. I have to admit I was a bit intimidated to be taking this particular workshop. I had no idea what to expect, and I was concerned that I was going to be completely out of my league. Jim himself is a bit intimidating at about 6'4" and 260 lbs. He really looks more like a tv wrestler than what you would expect a male belly dancer to look like.

During the course of the 3 hour session, Jim taught us moves such as the "barf", which is like a reverse body undulation, but a bit more subtle, and yes, barf is a fairly good description of it. He also gave us the visual of a line of snot running out of our nose and hitting our hip, knee and foot in succession to help our alignment of a particular move. He qualified this by saying, "I may be a belly dancer, but I'm still a guy".

I figured that my skills would be challenged and I was right, but on a scale of 1-10, with 1 being "completely lost", and 10 "being this is easy" I rated myself about a 7. And I gave myself a hearty pat on the back at the end of it.

That evening there was a performance of local dancers and the "Boz Man" performed last. Let me just say it was worth the wait. If you've never seen a grown man in shimmery tight clothes do a full body shimmy-vibration you have truly missed out. My heart still beats a bit faster just thinking about it. Whew! Oh, and the rest of his dancing was incredible too....ah, but the shimmy...

Now, because I raved about Jim Boz's fabulousness, my husband has labeled him as gay, which may or may not be true, (and for the sake of my crush, in my mind he is not). Husband likes to label all my celebrity crushes as gay. In fact he's still trying to get a nasty rumor about Jeff Probst's sexual orientation going.

Although male belly dancers are rare in the U.S., I have seen one other. Notice I didn't say "had the pleasure of seeing". In contrast to Jim Boz who does belly dance moves in a masculine way, this dancer had swathed himself in orange flowy chiffon and danced in a very feminine way. That would have been fine had he been a bit more feminine or metrosexual looking, but this guy rather resembled a homeless street person with his scraggly hair and beard, his pasty white less-than-fit abdomen covered in man fur, and what looked like very hastily applied blue eyeshadow and mascara. My friend described him as Rasputin-esque. I know I sound like a belly dance snob, but really I wasn't the only one that found him a bit unsettling. Let's just say I didn't take away a good memory, and gouging at my eyes didn't help to get the vision of orange chiffon hairiness out of my mind.

So, even if you have no interest in middle eastern dance, if you get a chance to see Jim Boz, do it! You will be glad you did. However, if you see Rasputin dressed like a harem girl, please for the sake of your eyes and mind, run!

One Wrong Turn Deserves Another

This weekend Sis and I went down to the City to celebrate Bub's birthday. Gosh, what a gorgeous day it was. The weather was sunny and warm, and there wasn't a cloud in sight. We went to the beach, then into the city to the wharf for a tour of the wax museum and a sourdough bread bowl of clam chowder. It was a busy and terrific day with my two eldest kids!

Every time I drive to San Francisco, I'm reminded of the trip I took earlier this year where one wrong turn led to an epic adventure (soon to be a major motion picture).

First of all, I don't do a lot of freeway driving so it makes me a bit nervous. I do a lot of 2 lane windy highway driving which rarely involves going even 60mph, so when I get on I-5 and the speed limit is 70, it freaks me out a bit. Add to that all the crazy bay area drivers who believe that the safe following distance is somewhere between your bumper and your back seat, and the fact that I have no idea where I'm going, and you've got a recipe for driving hilarity.

Well, my friend and I are on our way to Marin, which in theory, is north of San Francisco, to see the famous Bellydance Superstars. I have my Yahoo map in hand and away we go. As we get closer to the bay, my friend B is reading the directions while I am trying to find the corresponding sign, and then try to figure out which lane to be in. It's kind of like some cruel real-time strategy game. Well, suffice it to say, when the 580 split, I missed it and headed to San Francisco rather than north and around it. B realizes that we're headed to the Bay Bridge, and traffic is getting thicker by the minute. She tells me to take the next right and get turned around, otherwise we're going to go way out of our way to reach our destination. Somehow I manage to convince the other drivers that I'm worthy of moving into their lane, and I finally reach the farthest right lane with an exit in sight. We will be back on track in no time.

As I exit I notice how there is no traffic on the ramp I'm now driving. What a rare and convenient occurrence in the bay area! I drive further and realize there is not another vehicle even in SIGHT on this ramp, and the ramp seems to be going parallel and over the lanes we just left. Hmmmm....Next I notice signs saying Bus Lane Only violators will be prosecuted. So that's why there are no other cars around; I'm on the bus ramp to go over the Bay Bridge! I have to laugh as we head back down the ramp towards the line of cars waiting to pay their toll. Red faced, I maneuver my car through some pylons that separate the bus lane from the law abiding citizens' lane and cut in front of someone who is shaking their head at my obvious hillbilly stupidity. B and I have a good laugh at this, and pay our toll. Whew! I'm glad I got away with that! Thankfully the bus ramp doesn't have cameras to send idiots tickets after the fact, and thankfully none of the other drivers I cut off were packing their guns that day.

B assures me that all we have to do now is go over the Golden Gate Bridge, and we'll be right on track. The exit for the Golden Gate comes up, and off I go. To get to the Golden Gate you have to go through the city for just a bit. I'm looking for signs to follow that are either too small, or hidden, or non existent, because I miss the turn and go straight. No problem, we'll just make a left, then another left and be right back on track. Easy enough, but strangely all the left turns are blocked off. We drive on and notice groups of people dressed in colorful costumes, then we notice floats parked on the side of the road, and realize that they are all getting ready for the Chinese New Year parade. Of all the days to be driving through the city, this is NOT the one. On the bright side we get a kind of drive-by view of the parade.

Traffic is stop and go, and really heavy and we are headed for the Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39 tourist trap with no escape in sight. I have to go against all my instincts and start driving aggressively, running through lights at the last second, tailgating, and pushing my car into the lane I want. My nerves are shot, but the views of the city and the Golden Gate are incredible so I try to enjoy what I can. We really have no idea how to get to the Golden Gate from where we are. We can see it, but getting there may prove a bit more difficult especially with the luck I'm having today. I decide the best thing to do is follow a car that seems to know where it's going. I first pick a black Suburban. I have to abandon it after if parks. Then I see a blue BMW. It is driving with an air of authority, so I follow it like it's my mother duck. The BMW is a good bet and we are soon out of the crazy tourist area and headed to the bridge! Hooray!

Somehow we still manage to get to the show on time even after our hour and a half tour of the city. My only regret is that we didn't have time to stop at Ghiradelli Square on our impromptu detour through San Fran, because some chocolate would've done wonders to soothe my frazzled nerves.