Saturday, December 19, 2009

Shake what your momma gave you!

I was not looking forward to Thursday's Haffla AT ALL. All day, I felt truly much so that I forgot where the letter G was in the alphabet and was too tired to go through the ABCs to find it. Yeah, that's tired. I'd sincerely flubbed every dance at the rehearsal the night before. Plus, I realized that the new costume I bought was truly the cheapest, most poorly made thing I could have bought. I was very disappointed and regretting my decision to continue dance class this season, as my heart just must not be in it.

I'd decided to pin the skirt to my old costume (See, we were performing a piece that requires a large, full circle skirt, and the skirt to my other costume is split, as in two totally separate pieces. That was not going to cut it for a routine where the skirt WAS the main attraction.). As I said, I'd decided to pin my old green skirt to try to make a continuous skirt without it looking too shoddy and wear it, as I know for a fact that it is a quality piece. Alas! I forgot to buy safety pins at the craft store while I was there at lunch.....told you I was tired.

I rushed home from work after my boss graciously let me leave work half an hour early. I slapped a coat of polish on my nails, grabbed a glass of wine for the nerves and started getting ready. I was left with the cheap, new costume that I hated since I forgot the safety pins. I made the most of it by adding some really beautiful pieces of jewelry: namely a Welsh dragon brooch to cover where the top had already shredded itself and a large hand-blown glass pendant that my betrothed's mother brought back from Venice for me after having only met me one time. The brooch was a hit. At least ten people asked where I got it. That made me feel wholly better about the costume blunder.

My gothic, hairdressing, lifelong bridesmaid friend had the dance before me. She performed it center-stage, front row and KICK BUTT MAN! I knew where she made a little error, because I know the dance, but I seriously doubt any of the audience would have caught it. I was like a beaming momma and hugged her as we swapped the stage. Plus, she had a killer outfit that she made herself.....wonder if I can get her to make me one?

Then it was the advanced class' turn. Thankfully, there are a lot of us....we filled the stage front to back and side to side. So, I knew I would not be a focal point for anyone that did not really know me. That meant that only my friend, my betrothed, and my very proud step-dad would be paying me a lick of attention. I suddenly felt better, relaxed. That made all the difference in the world. I made it through the skirt piece (on the front row even though I was not supposed to be there but on one would take it, so why not step up?!) without a single discernible error! HUZZAH! Now for the piece that kills me.....the short drum. Sounds simple right? It even has short in the name! Yeah, it's a lot of complex moves that require your arms, legs, hips, and ribs to work completely separately while smiling at your audience and steering their attention by directing your eyes were they should be looking. It's a very difficult two minutes. To make it more difficult.....the song started before we had reset! We were all still moving to our spots. HOLY CRAP! Well, something about being caught off-guard and having a flub that you were not responsible for seemed to help my performance. It's like I'd gotten my one error per dance quota in early. I think I had the biggest cheesiest grin on my face pointed right at my man when I finish (in the right position and on time free of any other notable mistakes....okay there was one other but you couldn't see it from the audience. There I said it.) Last dance, and this one I know by heart. I jumped to the front row and killed that thing! I also killed my ankle. I sliced it open when I crossed my other foot over for the bow and nearly fell. Wouldn't that have ended the show well. Bow and boom! I didn't though. I bobbled a little then popped right back up with the rest of the ladies. PHEW! Done.

That is it for belly dancing till after the wedding. My instructor breaks for the the month of January and picks it back up in February. I'm not going to delude myself into thinking that I'll be cool and calm enough the month of the wedding to attend classes. I think trying to attend them would likely just add to the stress, so I'll let myself off the hook for this one. But I should still be able to do the next Haffla in May! Woot.

Sorry this was meant to be Friday's post.....but I was caught so aback by my baby-faced man that I got distracted. Remember, we've had no sleep this week.

Also....tired to find a better photo but someone decided to sit right in front of my betrothed, even though he sat in what was the front row when we got there. A new row in front of him was added, last minute, and a guy with a big hat took the seat directly in front of him. Most of the photos contained said hat. Photo by my man.

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