Big Boss Stomp

SECRETS OF SCHEHEREZADE’S

Though the stories are true, the names have been changed to protect the guilty,
I mean innocent!

William Jennings Bryan (1860-1925)
“Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice;
it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.”

Big Boss Candle

Most of Scheherezade’s dancers live a double life. By night, they are the goddess of the dance. By day they are mere mortals with daytime jobs, accountants, engineers (not the kind on trains), sales reps, federal agents, entrepreneurs, stock brokers, etc.

The Marrakesh was one of the favorite venues of our troupe. On one particular occasion, Ophelia’s “Big Boss”, from her daytime persona, was having dinner at the restaurant. Placed in the seat of honor at center stage, he was ready to enjoy his virgin experience of her performance.

Ophelia and I were performing our traditional show lineup, with Athena. The show began and flowed impeccably. The dark, melodic tones announcing our candle dance, floated through the air. The routine was an elegant, intense choreography, the embodiment of strength, balance and grace.

The three dancers entering the stage dramatically, each carrying three lit candles resting on beautiful brass trays. This was one of Ophelia’s favorite numbers. She had performed it dozens of times to perfection. The entrance and first part of the choreography was wonderful, strong and indeed, impressive. The music continued as we balanced the trays with the lit candles on our heads.

As Ophelia’s body corkscrewed, first hips then chest, moving her around in a tight, personal circle, she met the mesmerized eyes of “Big Boss”. At that very moment, an unseen force, or maybe a too fast movement of her head, attacked Ophelia’s tray of candles. They took flight, crashing to the floor with a massive ‘Bang’. The metal candles scattered over the stage, spewing the cotton balls soaked in lamp oil. Unlike wax, the oil generates flames that don’t die without encouragement. Ophelia stood there, like Sissy Spacek in 'Carrie', circled with bits of fire dangerously close to her flammable harem pants. Finally her brain acknowledged the flames. She began trying to stomp out the fires.

Being the Momma of the troupe, I needed to protect my child. Kneeling, using my bare hand, I began patting out the fire. Everyone knows a mother cannot be burnt or cut by broken glass. I insisted Ophelia stop stomping, #1, because she was going to catch her harem pants on fire and #2, she was stepping on my hand. All the while, unnoticed, I still had my tray and lit candles balanced on my head. Never once did it occur to me to remove them before the same catastrophe presented itself in my honor.

Ophelia now had no candles, no fire, a bent tray and a non-impressed “Big Boss” with the exception of possibly how well I could knell, slap a fire infested stage (okay, just 3 small balls of fire) and stand, without dropping my tray. Slightly mortified, Ophelia left the stage. I returned to the choreography with Athena, restaging on the fly, from a trio to a duet.

Returning to the stage, Ophelia regained the respect of “Big Boss”, as well as the rest of the audience with her magnificent sword solo. Her balance was perfection, her strength and flexibility impressive. Best of all she performed without harming herself or the audience.

The next weekend, she returned to the stage to again perform the candle choreography. Ready to prove that she was indeed the phenomenal dancer we all knew she was, she regally began the routine with two other dancers. As she placed the candle on her head, all the waiters, armed with grins and fire extinguishers, knelt at the front of the stage. The audience, as well as Ophelia, had to laugh. After shooing away the waiters and recollecting herself, the music began again and a flawless candle choreography was performed.

It is inevitable, when our inner Goddess divine reveals herself, something will come along to knock her right on her royal keester. We should never laugh at ourselves alone. Have you every experienced that mortifying moment, when you so wanted to impress? If so, click on the word 'comment' below and share so we can all laugh with you.

DANCING, A DANGEROUS SPORT

NEWS OF THE DAY

I finally received notification from my publisher, Whiskey Creek Press, that my first novel, SHIMMYING FAITH, will be released January, 2011!


QUOTE OF THE DAY

Joseph Addison (1672-1719)

“What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity, These are but trifles, to be sure: but, scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.”

TALES OF SCHEHEREZADE’S

Dancing, a Dangerous Sport

I love dancing with my troupe. I love performing with my best friends and the feeling of being one with them. That said, be warned, you could be in danger if you are chosen to share a stage with me.

Many moons ago, I was invited to join my fellow dancers in an annual outdoor festival in May. I was so very excited to share the stage with some of my closest friends. We had been working very hard on a new beautiful veil routine for several months. By May, we had it near perfected. Of course, as with any virgin performance of a new choreography, a few minor mishaps may occur.

The routine started off strong. The veils billowed beautifully in the spring breeze. Ooo’s and aaah’s rose from the audience at all the appropriate spots. The majority of the choreography was performed in a circle, true Harem girl style. For the last sixty-four counts of the music, a line was formed across the front of the stage, where the focus was on our intricate bodywork, figure eights, undulations, etc., where we stayed in perfect synchronization with the dancer next to us.

Each beautiful woman remained, demurely posed, with eyes cast down to the right, anxiously waiting our moment to move. The girl on the far left of the stage performed her barrel turn, moving her around the rear of the stage till the circle was again formed. On the next four counts, the performer to her right followed in a lovely, flowing contagion. Finally it was Shalena’s turn, my best and dearest friend, who stood just to my left. Shalena hesitated slightly and her four counts were gone.

As she took her first step preparing for her barrel, I began mine as well. Unfortunately, she was not yet out of my arm range. In fear of the veil being pulled from my hand by the wind, my left hand was fisted, clutching the edge of my veil. It came up and WHAM! My fist connected solidly on her chin with all the built up energies I possessed to finish our routine with a strong, magnificent circle of veil. Taking a quick glance, without stopping my momentum (the show must go on), I discover Shaleana stumbling back out of the line, dazed. Being the professional she was, she took only seconds to recoup and take her place again to complete the flowing circle and strike our final pose.

Besides being washed with embarrassment, I felt terrible for abusing someone, especially in public. Luckily, it was Shaleana who laughed first. Later while reviewing the video with my loving friends, they discovered rewinding that particular section of the show, was the most entertaining portion. They could watch me whack the devil out of my best friend, over and over again.

Remember, though you are on a stage, in front of hundreds of witnesses, you are not safe from assaults by your best friend and fellow dancers. Dancing is a dangerous sport.

How many of you have abused your fellow dancers, accidentally of course!
Click on the word 'COMMENT' below if you would like to leave one!

Tales of My First Delivery

I am proud of all my past students, but today one, Zaira (A.K.A. Rebecca Stockstill), is heavy on my mind. Not because she captured the prestigious 2006 Belly Dance championship title at Little Egypt’s, Ahlan Cairo Nights or that she was a formidable contestants for the Bellydancer of the Year, but because today she is experiencing a new dimension of life. So, though this will have nothing to do with Belly Dancing or Writing, I wish to share one of my craziest, most beautiful adventures.

Tales of My First Delivery, (Child, not papers)

Friday, eight weeks from my due date: My doctor put me on bed rest. Being the disobedient person I am, I didn’t do as the doctor advised, except of course letting my employer know my doctor would not allow me to work. That part I liked. Sunday, I had my baby shower. Monday, I cleaned house. Tuesday, I worked on the baby room. Wednesday, I went grocery shopping for two hours then spent the afternoon preparing stew, spaghetti sauce, chili etc. that could be frozen for meals while I was forced into bed, that is if I ever made it there. That night before going to bed I watched a movie about three women, who all had premature babies. How ironic!

Thursday, 6:00 am - I woke, totally embarrassed. At twenty-nine years old, I had wet the bed. I had a vivid dream that I was on the toilet. Yes, often my dreams are very realistic. But anyway, the bed was soaked. After making my apology to Guy, (Okay, even his name was boring, but that’s another story), I went to the real bathroom. He was cleaning up the bed when I called him a bit concerned. I couldn’t stop peeing. It was such a strange sensation. It just kept coming. I began to think, maybe the baby had ripped my bladder wall or something. I had Guy call the doctor and they advised us to come to the hospital.

7:30 am - We arrived at the hospital. Since we had just started the birthing classes, we hadn’t yet had the tour. Needless to say, we entered through the front door instead of using the emergency entrance, which of course was at the opposite end of the building. The hospital was undergoing massive construction, so we were detoured again and again. I was still leaking. Let me tell you, it is difficult to maneuver over and around construction while your trying to hold a towel between your legs. Guy and I were quite tickled by the time we got to the emergency entrance.

8:15 am - We were anxiously met by my mother and sister when we departed the elevator on the maternity floor. They had been waiting for us for over an hour, but I had to pack and waddle from the front door. That takes time. After my examination, it was confirmed, my water had broke and I was in labor. I was a little concerned. The baby was 7 weeks early, I had hardly started my child birth classes and I had not finished training my replacement at work.

8:30 am - I was moved into a labor room. I called work to advise them of my situation. The poor dude that was replacing me, was in a state of panic. He called me eight times for assistance.

12:00 pm - I started finally have labor pains so I told my replacement he was on his own until all this was over. I had already decided to have natural childbirth. At least as much as I could. I don’t like taking medicine. Most effect me pretty strong. Good thing I had already composed myself to the idea, since I was informed the baby was at risk, so I would not be given any drugs. (Yikes!)

4:00 pm - I was ready to go to delivery. They had started an IV. I was feeling surprisingly well, except of course when I had a contraction. My real labor had lasted less than 4 hours, so I was not exhausted like so many women. Luckily, I have a high tolerance for pain.


As I was being wheeled into delivery, my IV line hung on the door handle and was yanked from my hand. Sounds bad I know, but I had a contraction at the same time, so I didn’t even feel the IV tug. As one nurse restarted an IV line in my left hand and another was taping up the right, the doctor informs me it was time to push. I wasted my first productive contraction by laughing as I replied, “You’ll have to wait. I’m busy getting a manicure.” Everyone laughed with me.

The next contraction was building. The doctor told me we needed to make this a good push. She told Guy to raise my shoulders, to help me push more effectively. He was so intent on watching for the birth, he lifted from the back of my head instead, almost breaking my neck. Again we all had a good laugh and another contraction was wasted.

On the next one, I gave a might push before anything else could happen. The baby crowned. The doctor informed us, “You’ve got a redhead.”

The combination of a small baby, as well as strong abdominal muscles, helps greatly during the pushing process. Yes, I swear by the effectiveness of Belly Dance as an excellent exercise form to prepare for childbirth.

4:18 pm - With the next push the shoulders emerged. One last push and we had a beautiful baby boy. Even though he was 7 weeks early, he was perfectly formed, except for the lack of eyelashes and eyebrows, (they came in the next week) I was quite pleased. After only 4 hours of labor, 18 minutes of delivery and 3 effective pushes, we had a gorgeous baby. It was way easier than all the stories other women had told me.

WARNING: No one ever mentioned to me what happens to you while everyone in the room is excitedly oohing and aahing over the beautiful baby as he is cleaned and examined. You’re left alone on the gurney to watch from a distance. Though you’re in ecstasy about your new child, a fear for your own life begins. Your body begins to shake uncontrollably, you’re sure you will be vibrated to the floor. After you’re finally able to get the attention of a nurse, you ask if indeed this is normal? She pats you consolingly on the arm and disappears without a word. After several moments she returns with a heated blanket and you are in heaven again. It seems blood loss will do that to ya! I’d be nice to have know that in advance…

Anyway, best of luck to Rebecca and all other future Mommies out there!

Let me know if any of you had an easier, more entertaining delivery?

It's a Business, a passion, a joy!

MY GOAL FOR THIS BLOG
KEEP MY DANCE AND WRITER FRIENDS INFORMED OF THE
WILD AND CRAZY GOINGS ON IN OUR COMMUNITIES.

As this is my first blog, let me introduce myself: I love my world. It's rich with family, friends, dancing and writing! My husband is great, my two kids are wonderful, my granddaughter is absolutely the light of my life. Some of my friends I have shared my life with for thirty years or more and love them still as much today. Some are newer friends, though many of those have adorned my life for still close to twenty years. But all have one thing in common, they are positive, supportive people. With that said, I am indeed a wealthy, blessed person.

I guess I am somewhat an obsessive person. Middle Eastern dance dominated my life for almost thirty years. In 1988, with a few of my fellow dancers, we gave birth to SCHEHEREZADE'S FANTASIES. Our troupe was my pride and joy. After years of devoting my time and passion to teaching, choreographing, and costume designing, my partner Suhira and I disbanded the troupe. It was a sad day, but we needed a break. That was a couple of years ago. However, I am very proud of the impact we were able to make on the lives of so many of the women who danced under Suhira and myself. Many, through the dance, became stronger, more confident women. Now many of my students have moved on to form their own troupes and my legacy is carried on through them. I basically retired from the dance world when we disbanded the troupe, but found I missed it too much to leave it behind altogether. I recently began dancing again with Bellydance 101, the troupe of my student Kayla (AKA Amy Hunter). Since it is her troupe, I can just enjoy the dance, feed my passion and leave the stress to her. (LOL)

I still devote some time to my dance, but now my primary focus is on my writer's journey. There my goal is to entertain by glorifying the often zany, romantic life of the woman/the Belly Dancer. I devote a portion of every day to studying my craft and several hours to actively applying the things I learn. Being A.D.D. I can't seem to be pinned down to one genre. I write contemporary, paranormal and sizzling erotic romance.

What do my passions, dancing and writing, have in common?

#1 They are both difficult careers
They take a lot of study, dedication and willingness to learn,
as well as a never ending need to improve and grow.

#2 They both are very personal
Every time you take the stage, teach a class,
submit your work to an agent or publisher,
or someone opens one of your books,
it is your heart and soul that is exposed.

#3 They are both about the joy of entertaining

With each performance we have, with every class we teach,
with every word we write, it is our honor to offer our audiences
a fantasy, an escape from reality, a new knowledge,
or possibly even a new outlook on life. If we can touch one life and
make it better, even if only for the span of a three minute song
or an afternoon of reading, it is a job well done.


LET'S SHOW OUR SUPPORT!

You know the old adage, if I tell 2 people, and you tell 2 people...


Writers if you have a book coming out, a new video, or good news, email me at RomanceOdyssey@yahoo. com

Dancers if you have a seminar coming out, a new DVD, or good news, email me at RomanceOdyssey@yahoo. com