Well, I promised 2 people I would write about belly-dancing, so here it is.
Belly-dancing is chicken soup for the blues As some of you who I've had whiny e-mails and chats with lately know, I've been a little depressed this month, for various reasons. Sorry about that, I'm usually not whiny.
Sunday the 27th, Easter, was my birthday, and my little sister's. According to a midwife and her voodoo, this works out to a conception date of July 4th. We haven't stopped hooting at my dad since we heard that.
My sister was going out with a big group to celebrate our birthday on Saturday night, and invited me. At first I didn't feel like going, but I decided why not.
We went to a Lebanese belly dancing restaurant called Nicola's and had a blast. For anyone who's read Stardance and sequels by Spider Robinson, Nicola is just like Fat Humphrey, the perfect owner of restaurant who won't let you leave his joint with out a smile, except shorter and not Canadian.
The food was fabulous, stuffed grape leaves, baba ghanoush, falafel, and other appetizers. Plus some incredibly delicate and tasty broasted artichoke hearts.I have no idea what broasted means, but I scarfed down several. For the entrees we had mainly vegetarian dishes as my sister has a very PC posse, but Missy (one of my sis's oldest friends, and a real sweetheart) and I got some chicken Florentine and lamb. Plus some spanikopita, and fresh baklava for dessert, MMMmmm, my favorite!
But it was the floor show that was really fun. 4 or 5 beautiful belly dancers circulated and undulated for most of the night. Actually, the best dancer was Nicola's niece and our waitress. She was very graceful and did some kind of whirling dervish dance--very cool.
For the ladies, 2 Iraqi (I think) men, customers, got up and did a energetic dance with waving dinner napkins, while holding hands. It was like a Tigris Riverdance.
Also, there was Nicola--he can dance with a huge wine bottle on his head. Early on, somebody told him it was my sister's birthday, so he dragged her onto the dance floor with the bottle on top of his head. Then she poured wine into a glass on top of his head, and he danced around with that!. That got the party started and half the restaurant's customers danced around.
I didn't dance until later, someone, probably that minx Missy, ratted me out to Nicola about there being a brother/sister birthday. Nicola wouldn't leave me alone till I danced--he's like Zorba the Greek.I tried to point at Russ across the table, but it didn't work--I have no poker face.
So I danced around a little--not belly dancing, no wine bottles, just the generic White Guy dance. I twirled my sis around some and she was very happy, as that was the only time we ever danced.
Then the waiters brought out the baklava with candles and me and my sis blew them out together. It was very nice, I don't remember ever doing that with her, although we probably did when we were kids.
That about wrapped it up. Then we went outside and took photos while it sprinkled. I drove home and saw a State Patrol car driving around with out headlights and a lines of very hip but very soaked people waiting in the rain to get into bars in Buckhead.
Photos to follow, I haven't been emailed them yet.
A fun night like this cured my blues, I prescribe belly-dancing for anyone who's sad.
I took a belly-dancing class once. I loved it! You'd have to get me very high to do it in public though (I get weepy then fall asleep if I drink), and since I'm Mormon, not gonna happen.
Posts: 21182 | Registered: Sep 2004
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Thanks to all the well-wishers. Apparently, harassing Lucky4/Abby worked, because I mentioned in IM it was my birthday, and she started this thread in 2 mins flat, her first thread. She lurks no more! Thanks Abby!
Yeah, spiking drinks is wrong but...hmmm weepy/sleepy belly-dancing from Anne? Tough call. Luckily, I'm a moral relativist.
No, of course not. At the next WenchCon we'll go, and I'll get your husband to tell Nicola you had classes...after that, you're doomed...he doesn't take no for an answer.
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