You! Shake Your Junk!

I have been so excited for the last couple of days because I'm going back to bellydance class and possibly a performance troupe after a 2 year absence.

(Due to a nasty divorce, lack of time, and lack of funds. Oh, and my dad had cancer, and my parents got divorced, and my boyfriend cheated on me with a psycho puta, and I got laid off, and I was in a bad car accident, and my daughter had a tumor -benign, thank God, but had to be surgically removed all the same. Those were two bad, bad, baaaaaaaaaaaaaad years. I hope 2004 and 2005 rot in the hell from whence they came and are never to be seen again. Or I will claw somebody's eyes out. Not mine of course, because then I would be miserable AND blind and who needs that?!)

Anyhoo...

I can't express how excited and happy to be taking class with my closest friend and excited and lusting after costumes and excited I am! Did I mention I am excited?!

I mean, to have an excuse to dress like this AND shake my junk (of which I have plenty - I am pretty bootylicious for a white girl):



Of course I'm not quite as thin or cut as she is (yet) and I'm about as white as Casper's ass... but on the plus side, my boobs are bigger than hers!

Besides, half the fun of bellydancing (besides being sore in muscles you never knew you had) is the costuming. I'm drooling just thinking about it.

I want to shake and puke just at the thought of public performances, but hopefully that will ease with time, practice, and confidence. Or it will end in complete and utter humiliation. Ya never can tell with those types of things.

But as long as I'm wearing something gorgeous and sparkly, I'm cool either way.