So, I’m all a-twitter about trying out some belly dancing. No, that’s a lie, I’m obsessed. The costumes, the make up, the hair, the henna. Drool. I signed up for a class at the end of April, and I’m scouring the Internets for a costume that can double/triple/quadruple as a wedding costume for my friend’s Renaissance-theme wedding in May, for Halloween and for the local fall Renaissance fest.

I have no delusions of grandeur about this. I had a strict no-dance policy for years, especially during the time I was having my 200 children, because I was very uncomfortable in my own skin. Now, I’m not really any more comfortable, but I’m hoping beyond hope that I can reattach myself to my body. I used to dance, though. I don’t know if I was any good, but it didn’t matter becuase I danced for me. Once upon a time, I was a club addict, especially techno and house clubs. If a man came up to dance with me, I felt invaded and quickly grabbed the closest female to me, so as to appear attached, then after the man danced away, I would go back into my own world. Dancing, to me, was never about picking up men or women, it was just a way to ingrain myself in the music I was hearing. Poo on booty dance, if I wanted to fuck someone, I just told them

So, back to my obsession. At the Retreat, my dear friend let me borrow some of her belly dance attire, and did my make up. I even wore falsies – well, false eyelashes. I had glitter, I had sparkles, and I made a lot of noise when I walked, thanks to an amazing coin belt and bra. Being a work-at-home student mom, I don’t get many chances to dress up, and I believe I shocked a few people at how eager I was to actually transform myself into Boomshanka. I think back to the days when I used to go to clubs, when I even had a wig, and I just feel all warm and gushy. That part of me never really died, it just became a fond memory. Maybe its the lack of daily primping that incites my desire for dramatic transformations, or maybe its a calling. Whatever it is, I’m hoping that the belly dance kick lasts and that I’ve found a nice new hobby that benefits everyone around me. I’m also seriously considering getting my nose pierced, which had nothing to do with the Retreat, but seems to tie in to everything.

Bearing all of this in mind, I’m reminded that until April 17th, we’re in a Venus retrograde. I think these happen about every 18 months, and so the last one was late summer of 2007. Venus retrogrades bring up all sorts of wishful emotions, people from the past, and memories. Its kind of like an amnesty period for bad relationships, either with people or with oneself, really. I guess the big question is whether all of the past that has been dusted off will stay in a fond light after the retrograde is over.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYqnpFU8aUQ