Inhale. Exhale. Repeat as needed
So tomorrow, I'm in the mood for doing something a bit different and fun. I figure I'll get up really early, pile on all the makeup I have in the house, put on an uncomfortably skimpy outfit, and then make a fool out of myself in front of a crowded theater. Where could I do that sort of thing...let me go google around for a suitable opportunity...
Hey! Here's an option: http://saharadance.com/performances.html#desertmoon.
Yup, I am making my stage debut in my studio's annual big-ass performance, "Under the Desert Moon."
I've been studying bellydance - Egyptian-style, not that wannabe Turkish-style stuff - for three years now. Before this year, I'd always shied away from signing up for a performance class because, you know, the lack of my dancing skills made it seem like a bad idea.
Not that I've gotten all professional or anything lately, but I figured that it's been long enough and I should put up or shut up. Sadly for my friends, I opted not to shut up and have been babbling about this performance almost non-stop for the past five months. I think that they will be more relieved than I am when the final curtain comes down, if only that means I'll finally have a new topic of conversation.
[God. The Amazing Race AND my performance class end this week. What will I have to talk about now? There's always that cute thing my cat did, I guess.]
Anyways, I chose to belong to a group that's doing a veil routine. I figured that it would be easier to have a prop to distract people's eyes away from my actual dancing. That kind of worked out, and it kind of didn't, as now I have to worry about dropping/tripping on the veil. It's HUGE.
In addition to stressing about the novelty of dancing on-stage, I also am just a tad nervous about the costume. I don't want to crush you guys, as I know you idolize me and my picture-perfect, glamorous life, and this may shock you to read this, but, um, not a 100 percent perfect body. In fact, let's just say it falls quite short of perfection. On a good day, I strive for mediocrity. I keep telling myself that traditional bellydancers have lots to shake, but I'm not sure I'm buying it. And the costume is a typical bellydancer costume, with a top that looks like a fancified sports bra, bare midruff, low-hanging skirt with a slit up to here, and pounds of coin belts. One of my fellow dancers (there are eight of us, not nearly enough to hide in) was disappointed that we weren't showing *more* cleavage. Me, I'll be happy to get on and off the stage with just a modicum of my dignity intact.
And my tuberculosis/walking pneumonia/bronchitis/cold (something of a hypochondriac here) has continued to bother me. I'm not sure of the protocol, but I'm fairly certain it breaks character to cough up phlegm on-stage. I'm bringing every cough drop Safeway has to offer.
Finally, the two shows that the studio had initially scheduled sold out so quickly that they added a third show. I really think they're trying to kill us.
To sum: fear of performing + self-consciousness in costume + mobile phlegm factory + more performances that you can shake a stick at = good times. Can't wait!
Hey! Here's an option: http://saharadance.com/performances.html#desertmoon.
Yup, I am making my stage debut in my studio's annual big-ass performance, "Under the Desert Moon."
I've been studying bellydance - Egyptian-style, not that wannabe Turkish-style stuff - for three years now. Before this year, I'd always shied away from signing up for a performance class because, you know, the lack of my dancing skills made it seem like a bad idea.
Not that I've gotten all professional or anything lately, but I figured that it's been long enough and I should put up or shut up. Sadly for my friends, I opted not to shut up and have been babbling about this performance almost non-stop for the past five months. I think that they will be more relieved than I am when the final curtain comes down, if only that means I'll finally have a new topic of conversation.
[God. The Amazing Race AND my performance class end this week. What will I have to talk about now? There's always that cute thing my cat did, I guess.]
Anyways, I chose to belong to a group that's doing a veil routine. I figured that it would be easier to have a prop to distract people's eyes away from my actual dancing. That kind of worked out, and it kind of didn't, as now I have to worry about dropping/tripping on the veil. It's HUGE.
In addition to stressing about the novelty of dancing on-stage, I also am just a tad nervous about the costume. I don't want to crush you guys, as I know you idolize me and my picture-perfect, glamorous life, and this may shock you to read this, but, um, not a 100 percent perfect body. In fact, let's just say it falls quite short of perfection. On a good day, I strive for mediocrity. I keep telling myself that traditional bellydancers have lots to shake, but I'm not sure I'm buying it. And the costume is a typical bellydancer costume, with a top that looks like a fancified sports bra, bare midruff, low-hanging skirt with a slit up to here, and pounds of coin belts. One of my fellow dancers (there are eight of us, not nearly enough to hide in) was disappointed that we weren't showing *more* cleavage. Me, I'll be happy to get on and off the stage with just a modicum of my dignity intact.
And my tuberculosis/walking pneumonia/bronchitis/cold (something of a hypochondriac here) has continued to bother me. I'm not sure of the protocol, but I'm fairly certain it breaks character to cough up phlegm on-stage. I'm bringing every cough drop Safeway has to offer.
Finally, the two shows that the studio had initially scheduled sold out so quickly that they added a third show. I really think they're trying to kill us.
To sum: fear of performing + self-consciousness in costume + mobile phlegm factory + more performances that you can shake a stick at = good times. Can't wait!
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