Last night I was thinking I should buy the two movies I did voice overs for over in the good ol' Czech Republic. These were straight-to-video-basically-soft-porn-oh-my-god-this-is-bad movies, and therefore I knew they might be a little tought to find. So I went to trusty IMDB to look them up and found out that they went with the original titles of the films rather than the classier ones they had made up when I joined the team, making me even more proud to have been a part of them. Hey, how could I not be proud when I (well, my voice) was in a movie that starred Sable from WWF (sorry, I know "WWE").

Sins of the Realm is sold as Chained Sinners: Medieval Fleshpots
Lash of the Scorpion is sold as Medieval Fleshpots 2: Hot Wenches

I logged in over 20 hours of belly dancing this weekend. I achieved the sort of exhaustion that makes the world seem hazy and a little off kilter and where muscles are both non-existant and all you can think about at the same time.

I realized my limitations about 30 minutes before the end of the Sunday workshop and lay down in the corner. Me being me, I curled up and fell asleep even amidst the noise of many belly dancing ladies, the arabic music, and Sabura on a mic. While I was asleep, I got covered in veils and apparently many pictures were taken. Sometimes, I'm not so happy with my ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime.

It was a workshop with Nath Keo and Sabura, and their performances at the gig afterwards were amazing, they are such incredible dancers and Sabura is just one big muscle, it's incredible.

It was a strange performance for me as I was up there dancing as I looked out into the audience, I locked eyes with a man who was totally glaring at me. Now it may have been the lighting, or his tinted glasses, or maybe he was pissed off about something else and just looking in my direction, but it felt as though there was a lot of intense hatred coming from him and onto me. I went through the rest of the performance feeling a little sheepish and embarrassed. It seems so silly writing it down now, but at the time it sort of freaked me out. The whole moment reminded the scenes in "star stalker" movies where the camera focuses in on the psycho-stalker in the audience of a show as he plots his dastardly deed.

Holy crap, can I say "self-involved?" I do a few dancing gigs and already I think I have a stalker? Yeesh.