Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Loops Lips and Shimmy Hips

I woke up today while it was still dark out to the sound of the dog retching, and started this beautiful day with the pale yellow moon sinking in the sky as I cleaned dog vomit.
Since I have jack all to blog about, I'll blog about nothing.

Last Wednesday all us hippie chicks at bellydancing stayed behind after class at the studio/teacher's house and had an impromptu party. As I've said before, I love the company of my friends from bellydancing, maybe because it takes a certain type of person to be interested in that form of dancing, someone a little bit alternative and oriental. Add to this that bellydance is practically the only thing that encourages me out from under my rock these days and these friends are unfortunately the only ones I see at any sort of regular interval, much to my own disgrace and the chagrin of all the friendly names gathering dust in my mobile.

Usually it's just girls and we'll have a drink, maybe play some tumberleki which I turned out to be surprisingly good at despite only picking one up for the first time a month ago. "You must have taken drum classes" said the teacher. No, I replied, I just have a lot of pent up stress and smacking down on this tumberleki is the only thing stopping my nearest and dearest from having to press domestic abuse charges.

Strange things happen when in the company of a bunch of women and the wine is flowing. Normally it's just us ladies chattering away, safe in the female bubble to talk about whatever the hell we want. This time however we had the novelty of a token man in our company, a sweet chap who entered the dark circle about a week ago through friends. Conversation rotated between people as it usually does in a gathering. At one point three of us girls were discussing my resident spots, which led onto other beauty talk, namely hair removal and the Indian technique of threading.

"It's the best for killer eyebrows, gives you extremely straight and clean lines." I said. "I'm not so much bothered about that, it's this" said R, drawing a line across her upper lip. "Oh, that, I just wax my moustache" I said. All of a sudden thunderous laughter goes up from across the table, where Token Man has, unbeknownst to me, been eavesdropping. How embarrassing. I had totally forgotten that there even was a man in the gang. The glass of red wine in my veins helped to numb the cringe factor and I just lamely said "Ooooh there's a man here tonight, and I forgot he was here! Ho ho!"

And now all of cyberspace knows what I do with my moustache too. But somehow it's much more embarrassing when it's said in front of a man you don't know. I felt like I'd announced my bra size to the room.

So anyway, we decided to go out on Friday night to a restaurant and stayed there till the wee hours eating and smoking nargile. I am in the middle of a month from hell, from the absolute bowels of spreadsheet-number-crunching-you-wanted-to-be-a-journalist-but-ended-up-in-a-deskjob-you-hate-and-are-working-back-to-back-and-work-weekends-too-to-stay-on-top-hell. So I grabbed at the thin little sliver of fun that would sustain me for another week under my rock with the computer, and stayed out till 3.30 am all on my ownsies with my girls.

Token Man turned up too. I don't think he's realised yet what a bunch of raving banshees we are because he keeps coming back for more.

There was one of those photographers there, the ones that take pics of you having fun and accost you with EUR 5 a piece prints at the end of the night when you're too tipsy to realise what a bad deal that is. "You should be a model!" he said. Oh, thanks Mr Photographer Flatterer Man, if I had a euro for every time someone told me that, why, I'd have a euro!

Well, I've got to crawl back under the rock with the spreadsheets now. It was nice talking to you all again.


deviousdiva said...

I needed that! Next girls night out (with token man), I'm in... if invited!

bollybutton said...

You're invited and a half. I don't know why I didn't just invite out all my girlfriends, God knows I've not seen anyone in ages (my fault). One friend was 4 months pregnant when I last saw her and she's due next month!