My time was not well spent.

I paved another section of the road to Hell yesterday by having exemplary intentions to update when I got home from my belly dancing dress rehearsal, except that I didn’t get home until 1:20 a.m. My poor husband finally experienced the kind of anxiety I do when he’s away or late. He was imagining all sorts of scenarios, none good, explaining my tardiness.

We were instructed to be at the salle de thétre at 7:00 p.m., all coifed and made up, so obligingly I had bathed earlier, made sure my natural curls were particularly curly, did my nails as we were told polish on toes and fingers was obligatory (one of my group has nails bitten down to the flesh, and she actually spent money and had a set of falsies applied at a salon for a princely sum), put gobs and gobs of makeup on my face, primarily my eyes, and arrived at 7:00 p.m. on the dot. We then proceeded to do a lot of sitting around and waiting.

Lise had to run the tech rehearsal first, which is understandable, except that everything was so incredibly disorganized. We didn’t actually start the dress until 11:15 p.m. Yes, that’s right, and we’re talking about a two-hour show. My own contribution is five minutes long, tops. The rest of the time was spent sitting around, yawning, wishing I had something to eat, and wanting to go home. I stayed to watch the second half, since I won’t get to see it today, and enjoyed that. The more experienced dancers are really quite good, and their costumes spectacular. So that was fun. Except that at one point I turned around and asked Luc, the drummer who was helping out with coordinating, what time it was (my watch was in the dressing room since wearing them on stage is défendu), and he told me 1 a.m. I decided then I would leave.

Sadly, I couldn’t sleep in this morning past 7:30 and I have to be back at the salle at noon (the afternoon show starts at 2:30, why do I have to be there so early?), all coifed and made up. Oh, and then I can’t actually leave because Lise wants us to retain our esprit de corps (my words, not hers), so some people have opted for a buffet that another one of her advanced students organized, but I shall bring my supper in a bag.

Besides all that, I did get some pretty pictures yesterday of things happening in the yard. First, four of my group (we’re six, but the other two hadn’t got their costumes on yet):

These are arctic kiwi flowers, male ones. Aren’t they purty?

And, because I can, here is a photo of aphids on lupines, just to keep things real:

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