The Life of a Ladybug

live with intention. walk to the edge. listen hard. practice wellness. play with abandon. laugh. choose with no regret. continue to learn. appreciate your friends. do what you love. live as if this is all there is. -mary anne radmacher

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Raks and Glitter, II

(I'm going to post here, to be copied on all message boards of which I am a member. So if, dear reader, you are a member of one of those boards, do not be irritated if you see this again.) Saturday morning, I woke up later than I'd expected to. Sarai wanted to play, so she and I played for a while and Vic went to get breakfast for all of us. As I was eating breakfast, I started to get nervous and knew I needed to do something to take my mind off of things. So, Sarai and I went into the basement and watched some mindless TV until she started to get sleepy. I put her down for a nap and did some laundry. By the time I'd calmed down enough to shower and wash my hair, she was awake again and decided that she needed to accompany me into the bathroom. She stood on the other side of the shower curtain the entire time, talking my ear off and handing me shampoo or conditioner, as needed (of course, since she can't read - that'd be quite a feat at 2 - I had to hand each one back to her several times until she got it right). She also managed to throw her rubber ducky into the shower with me, for additional company. She sat on the toilet, still talking, as I untangled my hair and brushed it back into a presentable puff. Then, it was time for her bath. I got Sarai into the tub, with aforementioned ducky, a cup with which to dump water onto the floor (one of her favorite bathtime pursuits) and a washcloth, which for some reason, always winds up in her mouth. I shaved and did the whole facial routine while she entertained herself (and yes, I know it's a danger to leave a child unattended in a bathtub - I was in the bathroom with her). Then, I scrubbed her up and marched her shiny little naked butt into her room to be diapered, powdered, lotioned and dressed in her onesie and pantyhose. Now, to get me ready. I was so nervous as I did my make-up that I wound up with lash glue all over my eyelids - my hands were shaking that much. Thankfully, I'd had the presence of mind to buy the black lash glue and just decided to go with the whole "smoky look", which, of course, necessitated covering my entire lid in sparkly black shadow - lash glue oops covered! With full stage face "on", I attempted to attach the cutesy, floofy ponytail that I was planning to wear for the Lebanese portion of my dancing. I use the word "attempted" because, to my dismay, I discovered that my 'fro puff will not be covered! No matter how much I smooshed it, regardless of stocking cap, it would not fit under the phonytail!!! Needless to say, I started freaking all the way out! I shrieked for Victor, who was not nearly as upset about the hair debacle as I was and calmly offered to go to the wig store and buy a full wig for me. I looked at him with wariness. I've known him to be extremely patient and even extremely helpful before ... but to be both when I'm in full manic mode??? I was shocked and slightly scared. But, of course, I had no choice but to send my totally creepy husband to the store to get me a wig and pronto. Off he went - thankfully, the store is right around the corner. As I sat and chewed my nails, waiting for him to return, I realized that I had still not painted my toenails! I looked down at my pretty shell pink toes and knew that was not the right color - pretty, pretty pink was not gonna put me in the hot mama mood I so desperately needed. So, over top of the pretty, pretty pink (because who had time to waste on nail polish remover?) I painted a filthy, whorish red. Much better. At this point, the phone rings. It's Victor, of course. He has gotten to the wig store and found it is full of (gasp!) wigs! He was now totally overwhelmed. He started to describe every wig in the store. I wanted to throttle him. I told him to put the owner on the phone. I described to the owner what I wanted - dark brown or off black, not too long, straight or wavy. He told me he had three that would fit the bill and gave the phone back to Vic, who I instructed to buy whichever one he liked best. I said a prayer as I hung up that I would not be looking like Little Orphan Annie when I put the wig on. In a minute, he returned home with the coolest wig ever! It fit perfectly and looked great! Good job, Booba!!! Hair crisis averted! We all finished dressing, got in the car and drove off ... just before 5:30. That gave me just enough time to get there by 6, as required. But then Vic decided we had to stop at Wendy's to pick up nuggets for Sarai. Then, he realized he'd forgotten her cup at home. He'd expected me to remember it ... although he could quite clearly see that, if my head had not been attached to my body, I probably would have forgotten it, I was so flustered. Back to the house. When he came out with the cup, some heiffer from the homeowners' association (of which Vic is the president) was standing outside, asking him a question about signage for the Christmas decoration contest! Wench - I have somewhere to be!!! It is now 5:43 - I am pissed that Vic is talking to the homeowners' ho. So, I, with all the politeness that I could muster, said, "Um, excuse me! No disrespect, but I have somewhere to be in 15 minutes" while giving Vic the death glare. He tries to wrap it up, but she keeps chatting. So, I, ever patient, leaned on the horn. Death glare x 5. Vic hopped in the car with no further comment. We finally got there ... at 6:05 - I was pissed! Yes, I know it was only 5 minutes, but it was the principal of the thing. Little did I know that the whole night would run quite late, anyway. I ran to the dressing room, dropped off my music and began to dress. The minute I slipped on that dress, I felt like a star. It is so heavy and gorgeous. It looked better on me than I could have imagined. After dressing and putting on my cover-up (that's pretty much a requirement - to march around un-covered-up is quite gauche), I scurried off to find the tribe sisters. Yay!!! There they were in all their tribal glory - looking hot to trot and quite out of place among all the sequins (or seacrin, as my grandmother calls them). They oohed and ahhed over me and generally made me feel loved. Then, Lisa gave me some Rescue Remedy type stuff and a sip of wine - better. It took forever for me to get onstage - I was #16 in the line-up. But, finally ... it was my turn. First beat of the music - wait backstage. Second beat - make your entrance and ... shimmy! And, off to stage right, I hear, "That's Mommy!" And I beam in my baby's direction. I could feel her love - through the whole set I could hear her comments, "That's my Toya!", "Mommy!", "Look at Mommy!" I was so glad to be dancing in front of her - This is what you can do, baby. This is it ... this is what joy looks like ... find something that feels like this and do it to your heart's delight! Be happy! And to hell with what other folks think! I just knew that I was giving her a lesson she wouldn't forget. And I could hear "the girls" (primarily Lisa Zahiya)! The zaghareet and screams were so appreciated! I needed them - they powered me on! The entire audience was loud and appreciative (I found out later that part of it was because of Sarai - the entire righthand side of the audience had been watching her dance throughout most of the program and when they knew that I was her mommy, they were excited!). I felt like a star ... I wasn't just a bellydance student ... I was a bellydancer. Dammit, I was a BELLYDANCER!!! By the time I got off the stage, I was trembling with joy and relief and ... I don't know what all. I got congrats from quite a few dancers ... the most important ones were Na'lani, who looked so proud of me; Lisa, who has always been an encourager and a friend as well as a badass tribal diva; Lucy, who rocks my socks every time I see her dance and told me I had "beautiful hands" - ahhhh!!!; and Mark Balahadia, who I'd never even met before and told me I looked "orgasmic"!!!!! Even audience members complimented me. One older lady told me that, when she saw me enter with my glasses on, she wanted to run up onstage and hug me! LOL! In the second half, I danced with my sisters - Zahiya Tribal. As always, it was a blast. I have no nervousness when I dance with them - yes, the audience is there and I'm pleased to have them watch, but ... I dance with my girls. It is beyond fun to jam with them onstage and in class. Love to them all. So, that's it. That was my experience. Thanks for reading. And thank you for your support. (tm Bartles and James)


At December 20, 2005 3:17 PM, Anonymous nicklenic said...

i love your recap... vic is a hairdo hero. sarai is a dancing queen!

i hope i get to see you dance one day! what a treat.

btw, i'm honored to be noted in your quote book!

At December 20, 2005 3:59 PM, Blogger Toya said...

It's my pleasure to quote you! Hee!


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