Clever Manka is dressed and undressed

I contacted a friend this morning, asking if she knew anyone still in the local bellydance scene because I'm ready to ditch all but the very last of my dance stuff. I'm still pointlessly hanging onto my three favorite/most sentimental costumes but for the most part I need these things out of my life. Getting smacked in the face with a box or drawer full of scarves and jewelry is too painful. I don't know what to do with all the zills, though. When Saroyan (a famous manufacturer) decided to close years ago I bought several extra pairs. Turns out they re-opened (I think with different owners?) which is great, because their zills are The Best, imo. But I have many hundreds of dollars of zills now (some in unopened packages) that I have no idea what to do with.

Which brings me to today's question! I'm combining questions from nnozomi and tinny, who both asked me to ramble about bellydance (and other things, which I might also run with at some point). Bellydance as a general topic is too big for one post. I spent nearly twenty-five years identifying as a bellydancer and the loss of that is still, ugh, tough. So let me focus on one tiny part of it for now.

The first time I tried to zill was a disaster, as it is for everyone and everything. My teacher was a difficult woman and abusive in many ways (stereotypical Stage Mom with two sons disinterested in performance so she took out all that energy on her troupe). But damn she could choreograph and she put together a routine that matched steps to zill patterns. I don't have a good brain for memorizing choreography, but my muscle memory is stellar and once those patterns were ingrained in my fingers I was golden. After years of performing with them, it got to where my dancing was better when I was zilling (with or without backup music). Pretty much any photo taken of me dancing after 2005 or so I've got zills on my fingers (unless I'm holding a veil). I have small hands, so I can't wear the giant cymbals (like my teacher did), but my tiny fingers are strong and fast and I can make a pretty impressive (and rhythmic) racket with the ones I do use. This is my favorite style and I have four pairs of them--two pairs each of German silver and brass.

I think I've mentioned how much I enjoyed playing music with my drummers, even when we weren't performing. Making group music on a regular basis was an incredible experience, and since I was the only person who zilled (we had about six regular drummers, and a guitarist), I had lots of opportunities to improvise and play with rhythm embellishment. My zills often took the role of a vocalist, and I learned to weave the melodies I made with them into what the guitarist was doing. Everyone scoffs at jam bands (especially drumming circle bands), but we were really, really good. I wish I had access to the recordings that our head drummer made of us.

When I was performing with my zills, I also used them to communicate with the band (slow down/speed up) as well as the other showrunners (attention/little help here) and occasionally patrons. Nothing like a rapidly-clacking pair of metal disks to stop wayward fingers from getting too friendly! I got to where I could take money from a hand and stick it in my bra while barely missing a beat.

The chances of me dancing again are slim to none, but maybe someday I can make music with people again. I like to hope my zills won't languish forever. But if anyone wants to buy any of the new-in-package ones, hit me up.


My collection of zills that I used. The ones in the bottom right were my standard pair, the Saroyan Professionals in brass.

Oh, and today's dump on cm.net.

Okay, this is disgusting (SFW, but disgusting). Don't get me wrong, I used to love Cadbury Cream Eggs (before they changed the recipe). But the idea of drinking two of them in a can of pop? Ew.

My first one-on-one drumming lesson is tonight. I'm hoping my friend can help me out with some basic technique stuff. The one thing I took away from last month's drum workshop in KC is that I am sorely lacking in actual playing technique and if I want to get good at this, I need to learn some technique before I start trying the fancy stuff.

I'm on something of a contaminant-purge, and so have stopped taking all supplements that contain suspicious ingredients (fructose and tapioca starch in Emergen-C, for example). This means I'm no longer taking ibuprofen, either, since all the brands I've found use corn starch as a base. Guess what time of the month it is now? This is my second cycle sans-analgesics, and folks, it is not getting easier. Ugh and ouch.

Liberty Hall had Singin' in the Rain in stock (although the copy has some damage). It was great to watch it with mckitterick for his first viewing of it. So charming to experience that with someone who hasn't ever seen it, or many old musicals at all. I'm frequently amazed at how very different were our childhoods. The only thing we shared in common is that we were both human children--and there are times (most times, really) when I question even that.

New due South icon, btw. <3

WTF, 5:00 a.m. thunderstorms?

They woke me only ten minutes before I usually wake up on my own, so it wasn't so bad. And I gotta 7:30 chiropractor appointment this morning, so the extra time was nice. I'm getting treated by Mikell Adams for what she diagnosed as trochanteric bursitis. My favorite part of the wiki article?

More often the lateral hip pain is caused by disease of the gluteal tendons which secondarily inflames the bursa. This is most common in middle-aged women..."

This is middle-aged, people.

\m/ >_< \m/

mckitterick bought me this gorgeous thing for my birthday:


I took it to Hippie Drum Circle last night. Everyone agreed it was gorgeous. Everyone also agreed that it needs a new head. So, back to Supersonic Music this weekend!

So. The drumming gig last night. Well, I thought we sounded good. We definitely looked good. It was chaotic, though, and I think we all felt a little out of place (except maybe Heidi, who manages to fit in anywhere because she's so goddamn adorable). So I didn't get a group picture with the vests. Some other time, maybe.

Everything else, though? Everything else was just three and a half hours of Awful. I couldn't stand the people at the party (one of the Mardi Gras krewes of KC), the music (when we weren't drumming) was loud and not to my taste, and I nearly started two fights (not too much of an exaggeration, as you'll read below). At the end of the evening, Brayden said of all the people in Egotista, she never expected me to be "Most Likely To Be Involved In A Throw-down In Kansas City."

It's too bad that so many of the party people made me want to smash things. Because the hostess of the party was so nice. Really sweet and kind and warm. God, most of the other people though, or at least the ones I interacted with, were complete douchebags.

Near-fight #1: Earlier in the evening, I went out front to smoke (this was before I knew there was a smoking room in the back of the party space). A couple other Egotista girls were already out there, and as I came out the door, I heard this guy talking to them, and could tell from their faces and body postures that this guy was annoying. So I just kept walking, lit my smoke at the corner, and crossed the alley to look in the windows of some of the closed galleries. After a while, I heard this guy yelling, and I realized that he was trying to start a conversation with me from twenty feet away. Things like "Hey, have you been in there?" (by which he meant the gallery) or "Are you from Kansas City?" WTF, dude. I didn't even make eye contact with you when I came outside. Why are you yelling at me?

Fifteen minutes later, I ran into him again while I was waiting for the toilet. I could hear two people in the room, talking about something, so I knocked. "Just a minute!" Okay, what? Were they having sex in there? It wasn't even 9:00. Way too early for those sorts of shenanigans, IMO. I waited a couple more minutes. Annoying Guy approached to stand in line for the facilities and asked if someone was in there. No, dipshit, it's empty. I'm just standing here guarding an empty toilet. I knocked again and was told to wait longer. I gave one of my Irritated Sighs (patent pending) and Annoying Guy laughed. A third person joined our stationary parade about half a minute later and I yelled through the door "You're getting a queue out here!" Annoying Guy then said these actual words to me: "Chill out! Have a good time! It's a party!" I turned around (slowly I turned), and informed him that at parties, people often have to pee, and I was one of those people, and these two in the bathroom had been in there for longer than it would have taken five of me to do my business (Side note: There was a dressing room space, that was larger than the bathroom and with better mirrors, not fifteen feet away). Eventually, the door opened, and Annoying Guy burst out with "Oh, hey! It's Jim and Cindy (or whatever the fuck their names were). You can't be mad at Jim and Cindy!" I informed him that I didn't know Jim and Cindy and he didn't know me, so he could hardly judge my feelings toward them. "You really need to lighten up," he told me. "And that is precisely what I intend to do now that the toilet is free," I said as I shut the door. When I exited the bathroom, not a minute later, he wasn't in line anymore. So what the fuck was he doing standing there behind me? Oh yeah, trying to chat up someone who'd already given him about a dozen different "I'm not interested" signals.

This guy was a perfect example of The Nice Guy. "But I was just trying to be friendly! Why are girls so mean?" Ugh. Fuck Off, Dude. I found Brayden and informed her that if she saw him approaching me again, she'd better intervene or shit might get ugly.

Near-fight #2: Right before we were to start our third and final set, a woman walked over to the line of drums, grabbed one, and sat down in a chair--obviously intending to just bang out some rhythms. I walked over and told her that hey, that was someone's personal drum, and if she wanted to play before we started, maybe she could use one of the communal group drums, and I handed her one (the one I'd been using). "What makes it a group drum?" she asked. "Well, it's not as expensive, for one. That's a pretty valuable drum," I said, indicating the one in her lap. She stood up, then, and did something that (shockingly) has only happened to me about twice before in my lifetime. She literally got in my face and yelled "Yeah, I know what makes an expensive drum! I'm a drummer!" Now, I don't know if this personal-space-invasion technique usually works for her, but obviously she had no clue who she was dealing with. I leaned in even closer and said "Well, then you should know better than to pick up someone else's instrument and start to play without asking." I would've added "While you're wearing rings and bracelets, bitch," but she started to walk away halfway through the first part of my statement. Which, really, was probably for the best since I don't imagine that conversation would have ended in kisses and cuddles.

I have never been so glad to leave a gig in my life.

Things are a little less crazy today. Thank god. I still have a large(ish) task to finish this afternoon, but I'm waiting on someone else to program part of the software I use that will make the task easier. So it might take the same amount of time (doing it now vs. waiting for her to make changes and doing it later), but it'll be less tedious and, therefore, I'll be less prone to mistakes. I hope. So. Waiting.

mckittericksent me this story about what the authors purport was the first ever SF convention. I vote people dress like this more at conventions. Seriously. Also? I want to party with young Mr. Walter Gillings. For real. He's the one on the far left. I mean, just look at him.

My acupuncture schedule is all fucked up right now due to my mis-remembering that I'd made appointments through February. I still swear I did, but maybe something happened with her online scheduler. Anyway, my appointments are sprinkled around different days all weird and I don't get back to my Thursday schedule until February. This means I did not get to go home and drink after work last night which let me tell you was sorely, sorely needed. I was so wiped out when I got home from the appointment, I couldn't muster the enthusiasm for wine, even, and just sat on the couch for a movie until (past) bedtime.

Tonight: Wine for sure (after punching things). And mckitterick is (probably) going out with his friends this evening, so it's solitary drinking time which, I have to be honest, is one of the great joys of being an adult, IMO.

I might be drumming at an actual thing later this month in KC. Depends on if the rest of Hippie Drum Circle is interested. But, yeah. Me. Drumming. In public. Craziness abounds. I'll be taking my zills just in case, oh hell yes. I'm particularly excited at the opportunity to use my new giant ones that I bought from tama_grey except oh shit honey! I just realized I forgot to send you money. I'll do that this weekend.

Jeez.