parasitegirl: (bellyhand)
I’ll be dancing at Istanbul in Akasaka-Mitsuke tonight.

I think the last Akasaka gig I had was at the hostess-club that time forgot, early in my “being pimped-out by the crazy teacher” days. It probably happened in late 2004. I couldn’t find any entry for the hostess-club gig, so I might as well write about it.

Crazy Alegra, my first pimp/teacher, called and asked me if I could put together a song or two and come to a gig with her and Zilli (Japanese). I had a costume, the red menace, and was good to go. I suspect having a real costume and being foreign was the only reason I was picked. Alegra often kept us in our place by stressing that most of what was needed of us was to look cute,sexy, (foreign) so we’d do. Heaven forbid we be skilled, that might bring egos and a lack of blindly following her.

At the station Alegra looked shaken. She told me the place was…odd…and that I didn’t have to stay after and to make sure people understood I was a dancer, a dancer! Not an escort, not a hostess, a dancer. Be nice but be a dancer.

Duh!

We’d been booked by a hostess club, probably for an end of the year customer appreciation party in early December (before the TBS gig and her trip to India/more crazy stage). I thought of it months later when Crazy Al booked me for a birthday party but didn’t tell me it was a birthday party and told me to use a 26+ minute set…it was becoming clear to me she didn’t ask enough questions and usually showed-up and did…whatever.

It was as if the place had not aged in 20-30 some years and everyone had just grown older within their shells. The hostesses were in their 50’s, or older, as were the men. The women looked like they’d bought their clothing when Dynasty was popular. There was a lot of teal, black, and pink outfits in synthetic fibers with puffy shoulders and large, blocky, accessories. The hair was similarly large and solid. The men had comb-overs, or wigs, and wide, shiny lapels...there was at least one plaid suit.

The décor was what I imagine an 80’s budget cruiseship room might have looked like: over padded furniture, curved tables, fake wood paneling, potted palm-trees.

We got changed in the one bathroom. Zilli had ignored Alegra and wore, instead of a pro-costume, some insane mish-mash of Indian and hippy wear. Well, we were cute dancing girls.

I probably danced to Natasha Atlas “I put a spell on you” and a short, slower song. I probably wiggled and smilled. I probably needed a second chiffon-skirt under the one I wore. I probably didn’t help the image of bellydance that night. I did get about 5,000 yen in tips on top of pay.

Zilli was Zilli and Alegra took out a palmtree with her veil.

There were snacks and I got out of there after smiling and making a few words of small talk before my Japanese “failed me.”

Ah, Alegra alegra alegra. How little you knew and how much you tried to hide it.

parasitegirl: (bellyhand)
Behind the cut is an obligatory (but nice) little shot of me performing last night...and the story of what preceded and followed it. It might not be a long tale, but it was long in the making and, frankly, foreshadowed with giant blinky signs.

Last night. )
parasitegirl: (bellyhand)
The morning after Simsir I had to drag my ass out of bed and be in the Ebisu area of Tokyo by 9:30 AM to help my crazy teacher with yet another half-assed project. She'd called the afternoon before, when I was starting to put on my make-up for the show, and asked if I could be a body model for some costume items she eventually wants to sell on her soon to be created mail-order site.  She'd mentioned that on of the other girls had pushed her to get off her ass and get the photos she needed...this should have tipped me off.

crazy bitch )
parasitegirl: (makeface)

Last night I had nightmares about my dance teacher. Well, I had one nightmare, but it kept repeating. I don’t usually talk of my dreams, but it pretty much summed things up. I’d gone to talk to my teacher about the fact that her classes aren't challenging anymore, that she doesn’t seem to be pushing herself or us anymore, and that I am saddened to find that I’m getting more from my structured home-study of DVD’s, drills, and improvisation vs. structured chorography...Her solution was to make me teach her students the new things I’d learned outside of class…which wasn’t a solution to any of my problems and didn't make her a more chalenging teacher. I kept on awaking thinking “Nooooo, I don’t want to teach, I know what I am ready to teach and am not ready to teach. What I need is a teacher! A teacher who knows what she can and cannot do.”

 

The thing is, this dream scenario is not that far fetched. She’s asked me to teach little things to the class before, like a veil move I learned by going to Ansuya’s workshop, and on Saturday class nowadays I know her crazy drum solo choreography better than she does and sometimes I have to correct her because while reviewing the choreography she’s just skipped a move and thus confused the girls who will be performing. Sometimes I find myself asking questions on Saturday that I know the answers for (like, “You keep using the phrase isolated shimmy, can you explain how that is different from an Egyptian shimmy AND show us the difference?”) because I know the answer will help other students who seem confused about something. But I don’t want to teach what I know, I want to learn what I don’t.

Yeah, another rant. )



parasitegirl: (makeface)

So, what’s going on with crazy-pants, my beloved teacher?

 

Let me preface this by informing you that perhaps I am not spiritually or emotionally ready for some things right now…or at least this is what my teacher believes and it suits my purpose to not argue that point just yet.

 

What follows is a rant and long explanation of what has most recently annoyed me. Truth be told, it is a minor thing, but it comes after more than 6 months of rough patches with my teacher where I keep hoping things will get better, but things seems to just get fucked up in different ways.

 6 pages of ranty details and whine. )

parasitegirl: (makeface)

Sunday night I sat down to write about part two of my dance class. I didn’t know where to start, so I started at the top of a mini-can of Chu-hi and worked my way down. And then I took a bath.

 

I figured why ruin the nice day I had? [livejournal.com profile] opua  came over, we dished, I made risotto, it was good.

 

[livejournal.com profile] opua  tried to write about it all, but decided to post a picture of McGyver instead...an act I applaud, but I can't leave ya'll hanging. So here's take two.

 

The so-called dance lesson gets worse. )




P.S. If you lick this post you'll find it tastes like bile, that's the power of my aura, baby...


parasitegirl: (Default)

Did I call her wacky? Awww.. I meant to say, Fucking Crazy-Pants Insane!

We will no longer be doing any sort of conventional yoga stretches or sports-like stretching before we dance…which I am going miss because I’ve always felt we don’t do enough loosening up and stretching before doing insane bouncing “warm-ups” and such things (which I blame for my last pulled muscle.) … We’re now stretching (insert forced grin) our emotions and bodies.

 We will now begin each class, in groups of three, doing slow, freeform, stretches while maintaining physical flesh on flesh contact with each other. I think the technical term is writhing together…. but let’s back up a bit, and go to what happened before class started.

The rest of the story )

The Wait

Dec. 21st, 2004 04:25 pm
parasitegirl: (makeface)

I’m a little drowsy and I didn’t take notes on Friday. I suspect if I checked the schedule I would learn that we had two long periods of waiting and that I have compressed them into one for simplicity in writing and remembering. Suffice to say that there was a great deal of waiting going on in the cold, cold, Gaijin ghetto. I think the total time spent waiting was 3-4 hours.

TBS Japan, part 4. )


 

Occasionally, while we waited, young Japanese children would run up, look at us, and run away. I think I made a mother blush when I asked her child, in good Japanese, to please not ogle the gaijin. A few older women also approached me. The good thing about the few people who assume I do not speak Japanese is that they often inadvertently entertain me with a strange language of hand gestures and noises. One old woman thought I looked right sexy and kept grabbing at her own chest and hips to illustrate her point while making noises intended to convey the concept of large, sexy, and/or swelling. After the long wait and the obscenely grunting and miming lady, I was no longer feeling self conscious about my bare belly undulating around on TBS Japan. I had been assimilated in a scene stranger than I had imagined.

 

Show time!

 

parasitegirl: (makeface)

TBS, part two.

 

I think I left off with the panties. One obsessive reader asked how I knew they were hand-crafted panties. I can’t put it into words but there is a certain lack of store bought tags (or tag remnants) in combination with simple uniformity and types of stitches that tip one off to if an item is store-bought or custom made. All four of us investigated the panties in question and we all agreed; store bought bras, individually crafted panties, skirts, and veils.

 

We kept no parts of the costume and thus I will not be cashing in on the lucrative on-line or local used panty trade…I have my own Japanese school-girl uniform from my high school job and if I had wanted to go into the used clothing fetish market I would have already done so….which reminds me of the time I left my backpack on the train and it got lifted and thus I lost one dance costume, one Lomo, an electronic dictionary, a copy of Wuthering Heights, and my keys*…my dear friend Kazu and his wife put me up for the night…but Kazu was less than helpful when he kept saying that I would probably not ever get my belongings back because there was probably some pervert, sitting at home, wearing my costume and slathering himself with peanut butter….but I’m getting off topic.

Part Two, continues... )



 

*As off last night, all items lost were finally replaced. Thank you Wataguy. Lomogirl still enjoys her quirky lomoboy.

 

Still hazy

Dec. 9th, 2004 03:40 pm
parasitegirl: (Default)

I’m a little under the weather. I had to cancel The Incredibles with Wataguy tonight. In my hazy, sleepy (perhaps feverish) stupor of tea and lj as I wait to go home I am trying to make sense of it. Yesterday afternoon my teacher emailed me, last night we hashed out details and this morning my co-workers are all saying “Whaaaaaaaaaa!!!!”

 

Last night )



 

This is gonna be a wacky fucking ride.

 

 

 

parasitegirl: (Default)
Nothing is yet confirmed.

But I might be taking my first step toward that dream/nightmare in which I am a brightly colored gaijin on some asinine Japanese television show. I’ll know more after tonight.

I got an e-mail from my dance teacher today asking if I might be interested in dancing in the background of some TV show. It would take up a whole Friday and I’d get about 400$ for it. She stressed that nothing is yet a sure thing…. The fact that she emailed ME tipped me off that this was a probably gaijin specific (non-Japanese, probably white) gig. I’m not her best student but I am one of the white ones. I should be worried, gaijin appearing on Japanese TV for usually serve three purposes, to educate, to be exotic, and to be laughed at...most are there for the last reason. Gaijin belly dancers? I’m betting we won’t be educating. It’s luck of the draw if we’re gonna be exotic or extra-funny.

Not knowing which TV show, or even network, I said“Fuck Ya!”

She just called and the other 3 glow-in-the-dark honkies (Japanese readers: Honkies are white ) and I will be having a meeting with some guy from the network after the Cozmos event tonight.

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