I'm not sure what it is about being utterly exhausted that moves me to write, but it does. I'm so sorry for everyone who has to bare with me on this little excursions into my sleep-deprived mind. Yesterday night, I wrote an email to Pickle, I don't even want to look at my "sent mail" stuff because I don't want to confirm the little sense I made. Non-sequitors a-go-go.

RAB (my troupe) held a two-day Belly Dance Superstar workshop with Kami Liddel (tribal fusion a la Rachel Brice) and Petite Jamilla (double veil and whirling) this weekend. And we had a wedding gig to do. So basically I've been dancing or doing dance related things for 20 hours this weekend. The dancers for the BDSS are incredible and sweet and so amazing in all senses, when we had Sonia in this summer and both of the girls who came this weekend, god they are just the best ever. But let me tell ya, if you're a personal assistant or organizational manager of some sort, go apply for a job with the BDSS because they need someone better than the people they've got. These poor girls deserve better managers than this, it's crazy.

And I thought RAB was a gong show.

But it was still a phenomenal success, thanks to some hard work and some great relationships among the belly dancers in this city. We rock.

I learned so much, and some things just clicked this weekend. Danced better than I have in awhile at the wedding we had to dance at (and actually two boys I used to know were in the wedding party, so it was kind of a cool surprise). But I'm amazed at my physical exhaustion, this absolute, almost calming, shut off of my mind and body. If I'm this bad at my age, how bad will I be in my 40s? Thank god for red wine, it will help fight off the soreness until Tuesday morning when I will curse the gods and all that is holy for giving me a passion for this dance.

Okay, a Buffy episode while I remove make-up and lashes and then off to bed so I can do a full days work and another 90mins of dance class.

Oh yeah, the thesis is coming along real good...