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Oct. 10th, 2005 04:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
parasitegirlThe 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.
I probably should have begged off, but I didn't. I did turn down her offer to house me for the night after Simsir so that I wouldn't have to wake up early. I figured a night with her might end with a charge of manslaughter and said no.
I was knackered come Sunday morning. Friday night was spent in social drinking with assorted co-workers, Saturday I got my hair colored and danced, and by Sunday I just wanted to sleep.
I had thought of packing flesh colored underwear, but what few pairs I had were in the hamper. I also thought I should probably back a basic black velvet top, but forgot. I tossed in my contacts and put make-up on, just in case my head was part of any of the photos.
I arrived and found my teacher, in the rehearsal room of a place we sometimes rent, with two other students already suited up in cute bollywood wear.. My teacher, for reasons I don't quite understand, was dressed in white baggy pants, an open jacket, and a old white lace bra. She said she'd gotten hot and ditched the shirt, so I had to spend 3 hours with my teacher and her visible aureolas.
I quickly learned that my teacher had never used a digital camera before. She was shooting without a flash, and had no clue that you have to keep the camera steady because the lens stays open to get enough light...I eventually explained all of this and taught her how to use the flash...the flash lesson alone took about 15 minutes. It's not that fucking hard.
Yup. "Hey, I have no idea how to use a camera, but I have decided to shoot the costumes tomorrow! Grand idea!"
Through all of this she was talking to me about how she's learning to do things for herself...but from what I've seen, she's learned how to do things in a most precarious manner. If she had called and said, "Hey, Ozma, you've always got a camera at the events...could you help me do this?"I could have packed up the digital camera, some extra lights, and BAM it would have been done.
This is typical of her. When she makes mistakes, or needs to do stuff, she either begs help for the easiest of things, or avoids communications with folks at all cost and does things in a shoddy manner. She once begged Opua come over and show her how to sign up and use an on-line forum (Bhuz) which is pretty amazingly easy...and after Opua woke-up and came into Tokyo on her day off our teacher was no where to be found. In the past a few students complained of having their pictures on fliers...so she has decided, instead of asking students if she can use their pictures, to just never put students on fliers ever again...not thinking that some of us might like the encouragement and press. The same has happened with me saying that if she teaches the troupe other people's (like Jillina's) choreography she should ask them or at least credit them...and thus we just get stuck with her unoriginal drum-solo because she won't even credit other people.
And she also went on to tell me her grand plans for the future. How she wants the costume site, with the paltry selection of stuff she got in India when she went on her crazy journey, to be trilingual soon (English, Japanese and Italian) and how she eventually plans to organize one of the world's largest belly dancing seminars...but she can't tell me where....ooooooh.
I just sat, in a fucking Bollywood outfit, holding veils I hate, as the pity washed over me. I just stood, smile frozen on my face, thinking, "No, fucking way. You refuse to acknowledge the scene in America. You've been to Egypt once. Your organizing skills are nonexistent..nay...destructively bad. I can't remember the last time you took belly dance lessons...you're just not that good a dancer or that strong a person...I am all for encouraging friends, but this seems downright delusional."
It was hot in there and I felt sick after a while but I plugged through it. My glamourous pink panties and soft white belly will eventually be on display on her paltry web-site...I had to turn them inside out so that at least the Supergirl logo didn't show through the chiffon of some of the costumes...luckily my head won't be in the shots.
Towards the end we discussed the schedule for the event I'm coordinating. She kept raising her voice and arguing points that weren't actually being addressed or even challenging. No wonder we all refuse to talk to her about anything face-to-face.
It was a piss poor way to start my day.
I probably should have begged off, but I didn't. I did turn down her offer to house me for the night after Simsir so that I wouldn't have to wake up early. I figured a night with her might end with a charge of manslaughter and said no.
I was knackered come Sunday morning. Friday night was spent in social drinking with assorted co-workers, Saturday I got my hair colored and danced, and by Sunday I just wanted to sleep.
I had thought of packing flesh colored underwear, but what few pairs I had were in the hamper. I also thought I should probably back a basic black velvet top, but forgot. I tossed in my contacts and put make-up on, just in case my head was part of any of the photos.
I arrived and found my teacher, in the rehearsal room of a place we sometimes rent, with two other students already suited up in cute bollywood wear.. My teacher, for reasons I don't quite understand, was dressed in white baggy pants, an open jacket, and a old white lace bra. She said she'd gotten hot and ditched the shirt, so I had to spend 3 hours with my teacher and her visible aureolas.
I quickly learned that my teacher had never used a digital camera before. She was shooting without a flash, and had no clue that you have to keep the camera steady because the lens stays open to get enough light...I eventually explained all of this and taught her how to use the flash...the flash lesson alone took about 15 minutes. It's not that fucking hard.
Yup. "Hey, I have no idea how to use a camera, but I have decided to shoot the costumes tomorrow! Grand idea!"
Through all of this she was talking to me about how she's learning to do things for herself...but from what I've seen, she's learned how to do things in a most precarious manner. If she had called and said, "Hey, Ozma, you've always got a camera at the events...could you help me do this?"I could have packed up the digital camera, some extra lights, and BAM it would have been done.
This is typical of her. When she makes mistakes, or needs to do stuff, she either begs help for the easiest of things, or avoids communications with folks at all cost and does things in a shoddy manner. She once begged Opua come over and show her how to sign up and use an on-line forum (Bhuz) which is pretty amazingly easy...and after Opua woke-up and came into Tokyo on her day off our teacher was no where to be found. In the past a few students complained of having their pictures on fliers...so she has decided, instead of asking students if she can use their pictures, to just never put students on fliers ever again...not thinking that some of us might like the encouragement and press. The same has happened with me saying that if she teaches the troupe other people's (like Jillina's) choreography she should ask them or at least credit them...and thus we just get stuck with her unoriginal drum-solo because she won't even credit other people.
And she also went on to tell me her grand plans for the future. How she wants the costume site, with the paltry selection of stuff she got in India when she went on her crazy journey, to be trilingual soon (English, Japanese and Italian) and how she eventually plans to organize one of the world's largest belly dancing seminars...but she can't tell me where....ooooooh.
I just sat, in a fucking Bollywood outfit, holding veils I hate, as the pity washed over me. I just stood, smile frozen on my face, thinking, "No, fucking way. You refuse to acknowledge the scene in America. You've been to Egypt once. Your organizing skills are nonexistent..nay...destructively bad. I can't remember the last time you took belly dance lessons...you're just not that good a dancer or that strong a person...I am all for encouraging friends, but this seems downright delusional."
It was hot in there and I felt sick after a while but I plugged through it. My glamourous pink panties and soft white belly will eventually be on display on her paltry web-site...I had to turn them inside out so that at least the Supergirl logo didn't show through the chiffon of some of the costumes...luckily my head won't be in the shots.
Towards the end we discussed the schedule for the event I'm coordinating. She kept raising her voice and arguing points that weren't actually being addressed or even challenging. No wonder we all refuse to talk to her about anything face-to-face.
It was a piss poor way to start my day.
