If I never said it, thank you.

So here's what I wanted to say. To you. You insensitive ass. You strung me out on your affection. I knew you didn't love me. I'm not an idiot. I kept trying to leave, and you would give me just a little bit more. Letting me believe that there was even more beyond that. There wasn't. I'm guessing there still isn't. You broke my heart, and then you and your new girlfriend broke it again.
But that's just history.
Really, the thing is, you probably did me a favor. That was as close to bottom as I ever want to get. But there it was. And so I started coming back up. I started belly dancing. Who would have thought? Not fucking me. I took a good, long, hard look at my life. How did you get in my life in the first place? Let me find that rat hole, and plug it up with steel wool.
In short, I got my life in order. And along the way, I gained the strength to tell anyone who didn't treat me the way I wanted to be treated to fuck off. (Wish I had told you to fuck off.) I adopted the mantra, 'Better no man, than the wrong man.'
And so I waited. I did things for myself. By myself. I cultivated new and old friendships. I got better. I got whole. Honestly, the lack of time wasted on you and your girlfriend in my life, opened up me up for much bigger things. And I figured out what I wanted. I wanted it all. And I wouldn't take a drop less.
So, really. This is a thank you letter. You probably saved me so much misery in the long run. Ten months with your ass, a year and a half on my own. I saw you the other day, riding in a car. You had the same hang-dog expression on your face, only you had grown a scraggly beard. Seeing you got me thinking about you again.
I am really happy for you. It seems you have found your true love. Mostly I am happy for me. You taught me such a valuable lesson. Never compromise on matters of the heart. It was worth the wait. Thank you for treating me like crap. Thank you for being the mediocre, spineless thing you are. I know, it doesn't speak well of my taste at the time. Speaks even less of your girlfriend now. I think you two are perfect for each other.
Wishing you the very best,
Me

Love and Pride

Oh Man.
My belly dance troupe shimmied in the Pride Parade today. What an amazing experience. The crowd was totally fired up and would scream and shout and zaghareet for us. I'm bone tired. But what a great day.
Soreness is already setting into my feet and my knees. And I can hardly wait for next year.

10 hours a week.

I'm fitting back into my skinny jeans. Thank you very much.

A belly dancer, a snake charmer

I have been dancing for about a year and a half now. At first it was just a way to get out of the house, get some exercise and maybe meet some new friends. It turns out, I am good at it.
I have a client who is a dance teacher, and when I told her I was going to start belly dancing, she predicted that I would be performing within six months. I laughed, but she was right.
I have been performing with my troupe since last summer, and it seems, we are quite popular. I did my first solo in January and I am planning to do a second at the end of this month.
If you had told me in November of 2007 that I was going to be a belly dancer, I would have laughed in your face.
Over the Holidays, my teacher, the amazing Kendra, formalized 11 of us into a semi-professional troupe. Which is to say, we will dance for cocktails.
I find dancing occupying so much of my time, energy and creativity these days. I am designing costumes, and hiring my friends to help me make them. I take every opportunity to practice the several different pieces I am working on. And when I just need to dance it out, I put on a song and improvise. I am seeing changes in my body, and my life has been so enriched by performing regularly again, and the wonderful women that I perform with.
I almost hate to say it, but I tend to think of myself as a dancer before an actor these days. I have been on stage since I was 15, up til now as an actor. I am sure I will act again. But for now, I am heading out to my backyard to practice.

Film Noir me

Val did my hair for Dark Avenue yesterday. I just gave her the theme 1930-40's film noir, and let her rip. 85 bobby pins.

My Life Story

My friend Daemond gave me a writing exorcise. Here are the results:
Smart
Beautiful
Happy

Born
Sister said Smart one
Smarter than pretty
Even better
Beautiful
Happy

Smart
Smarter
Beautiful one
Better
Happy

Born
Sister said smart one
Smarter than she is Pretty
Married
Divorced
Better than ever
I make people beautiful
Being happy

Happy.

Smart, beautiful, happy- if you had asked me to describe myself in three words, these wouldn't be the ones I would have chosen. Well, yeah, smart. Happy seems easy and hard at the same time. And beautiful would have never made the list.
I can't start any story of my life without talking about the story of when I was born . My mom was nine months pregnant. Around midnight she went into labor. When she and my dad got to the hospital, mom threw up on my dads' shoes. When I came out, mom asked 'How is he?' The doctor said, 'Well, he is a she, but she's fine.' And my mom said, 'Oh her father will be so surprised.'
When I was four, my sister was 12. She told me that I was the smart one and she was the pretty one.
So, I decided to be smarter than she was pretty.
But now I am better than smart and/or pretty.
I am me.
I am beautiful and I make people beautiful, and I am happy.

I have always been smart. Comes easy to me. I actively work to get smarter and keep my mind sharp. And being smarter than my sister became so important to me that I forgot myself as someone who could ever even hope to be pretty. At some point I decided it was ok to be the pretty one as well as the smart one. Or even better, the beautiful one.
Everyday, I try to get better. Today, I am better than ever. And most days I am pretty happy.

When I was born, I had to be in an incubator for 24 hours cuz I had the umbilical cord around my neck. I wasn't blue or anything, but that was standard procedure in 1973. I was born at 5:30 am. And at 8 am my mom woke up to a room full of women being handed their newborns. When the nurse didn't bring me around she asked why? Because I had the cord around my neck-incubator-24 hours. My mom said,'She's dead, isn't she?' The nurse said of course not. Mom said then bring her to me. This went back and forth for a while until my mom is screaming, 'I want my baby!' Ah, hormones. The head nurse comes around and gives my mom a valium, and says if mom gets some sleep, they will bring me around at 10 am. Mom sleeps. The nurse who brings me around says to my mom, 'See, she has 10 little fingers and 10 little toes and lots of curly hair!' The nurses called me Frosty Haired Sibyl.
I don't think my sister could ever understand how long it took me to get over what she said. But looking back, I imagine she was so afraid of not being smart that she had to put it on someone. It turned out ok. I still think of myself as smart before pretty.
Getting married and then divorced was something I never thought would happen to me.Either one. But I learned so much about myself. I love being in a committed relationship. Hate breaking up. Love kids, but don't want kids of my own. Would like to be married again, but I am in no rush. I am willing to wait.
Life is better than ever. I am better than ever.Most days, I wake up, and after a cup of coffee, I think 'What will today bring?' I make people beautiful for a living. It's the best job I've ever had and everyday is different. I get to be a chemistry nerd, a social butterfly and an artist. Life is sweet. I like to think that being happy is my job, and the universe is my employer.
Happy. Yeah. Most of the time.

still, and flying, solo

Last Thursday, I did my first belly dance solo.
It went so much better than I could have hoped.
It made me want to dance forever.
It made me realize how much my friends think I am...awesome.
I went out onstage...to a thouroughly warmed up group. A great group. But warm. Delightfully warm. And I owe that to every woman who went up before me.
I got onstage...my upper lip was the only thing trembling that shouldn't have been. And the music started, and I started, and I was onstage.
I got about half way into it,the audience was with me, and realized...'this is going great!' At that point, I let her rip.
I gave it everything I had.
And apparently, that was pretty damn good.
What an inspiring experience.
I want to do it again, as soon as possible.
I want to flex my wings again. So I can know that it's really real.
I cannot describe my elation on the day. But...I can tell you that it was better, in some ways, than any performance I have ever done. Because it was mine.
I have already chosen a new song. I have already found out a lot about how it speaks.
I am so excited to show it to Kendra...who inspires me, beyond my belief.
'This is beginning to feel like the long winded blues of the never.'
TVOTR
Dear Science,
DLZ