Thursday, September 30, 2004

Lance Corporal D.

I gotta say...I likey this "movement coach" gig...I likey a lot. Barking at people like a drill sargeant, while they dance is suiting me just fine.

"Left! Right! Left! Right!"
"Heads up! And 1, 2, 3, 4!"
"You over there, stop that bouncing!"

Before you know it, I'll be on to bigger and better things...like whips, and black leather clothing.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Yestermorning I got my ass up early and went to church for the 1st time in, I'll admit, quite a while. I was invited to a christening, and I figured "Yeah....why not!"

Well the drama started from the time I got outa the shower. I opened my wardrobe and realised that I had no church clothes.
So I went with what I had : A black corset-style tank top, and a black ankle-length skirt. I figured if couldn't be completely demure, I could at least don a somber, respectful hue. Only problem: the skirt comes low on my hips, so a sliver of my lower back was visible. I decided I was cool with that.
My parents, however jumped on this.

"You're not going like that are you??"
"People will stare, Daana!"
"You can't be exposing your chest, back and arms in church! You just can't!!!"
"Forget it! Find something else!"
"Come, let's go look and see what else you have!"

I wasn't going to a job interview, I was going to church...the ONE place I figured that one's outer appearance shouldn't matter. My bad.
My own parents made me feel like a gutter-whore.

The skirt I ended up wearing, at the insistance of my mother, was black, knee-length latina skirt, with a ruffled split ending high up the front of my thigh!

So somehow, in their eyes, the upper thigh is a far more holy and righteous body part, than the lower back.

Slight C.O.T.

Pentacostal churches are somethin' else boy. I heard people speakin' in tongues for the first time. I also danced in church for the first time.
What I didn't get, was why everybody was preaching with an American accent.

The actual christening went pretty well: the baby wasn't dropped, the reverend didn't spill the oil, and there were no objections from anyone in the congregation (heheh).
However, I must say, that was THE longest service I've ever attended! Three and a half hours??? The pastor like he didn't have Sunday lunch to go home to.


Oh, and no-one there seemed to have a problem with what I wore.