Apr. 24th, 2011

superdaintykate: (Default)
Did my first real post-surgery gig last night. I danced a couple of weeks ago in a hafla but that was to recorded music; dancing to a band is a whole 'nother thing and takes a lot more stamina since you never really know what's going to happen. I tend to go full out more quickly and then regret it because then the band turns it up.

Result: I sweated off all of my foundation (though my eyeshadow and lips, both MAC, were flawless -- guess I need to invest in some real foundation, too) AND one band of eyelashes. I had requested "Ana fi Intizarek" since the vocalist sounds super sweet singing it, and we agreed that we'd open with something peppy, then Intizarek, then a nice taqsim, drum solo and tip round/outro. I figured I could do a bunch of timewasting/finger cymbals/how-do-ya-do audience-greeting stuff for the first song to reserve energy, maybe fill with some veil and then launch into the meat of things once I warmed up a little.

That, of course, is not what happened. They started with Intizarek and I had to quickly ditch my cymbals and reconsider the rest of my life and then of course I emoted my guts out (because, hello, Um Kulthoum, you can't just half-ass it) with another ten or fifteen minutes of set remaining. Intizarek led into a long violin taxim (I think, everything is a little foggy) and then a long synth oud taxim (shimmies!) and then a mid-tempo, which I used to take my exhausted sweating self out for a tip round, and then I came back to a drum solo, holy shit. I sat my ass down on the edge of the stage to catch my breath, which was a crowd-pleaser, thank goodness, and George (bless his heart) came and sat next to me and kept drumming. I talked to the band later to thank them and they all said they loved that part.

Also got one of the best compliments I've ever had; someone in the audience said I reminded them of Fifi. (!)

But yes, more conditioning is definitely in order. Once we find a new place and get moved I am going to sign up for aquarobics, I think, or at least find someplace when I can use a treadmill for cheap. I'm thinking the classes would make me go work out weekly.

It was a really nice night, save for the freak sitting next to us. He came in after my set, I think, and I don't know if he had mental problems, or was on some illicit substance, or was just a jerk, but he was very loud in appraising the dancers in a disgusting sexual way while they were working. Luckily he was far enough back in the room that you couldn't hear him from the stage, but we was getting increasingly creepy with one of the dancers who had sat at a table behind us and I was getting ready to turn around and burn him to the fucking ground. I just didn't get an opening to do it; I didn't want to disrupt the performances that were going on. I felt bad not jumping on him, though, or asking the venue to get him the hell out of there. Lesson learned for next time.


superdaintykate: (Default)

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