Susan Senator

I’m proud of myself. Today felt like a real fragile day. I have what Linus Van Pelt called, “Post-Birthday Letdown,” because Oct. 18 is always so sugary high, that there is no way Oct. 19 can be good. It is my crash day.

So, in anticipation of that, I worked out for 45 minutes, came home, gave boys lunches, and then napped. I was face down in Fat City. I woke up not wanting to face life. Or my face, which was pressed with a with a big pillow crease, diagonal line from lower lid to ear.

I told Ned I wasn’t doing anything. He was concerned. I had been planning to go to Najmat’s (and yes, that is her real hair; no hair extensions for my friend Naj) second session of bellydance classes in Cambridge, but I just felt total inertia. I also was supposed to go to an art studio opening of “Inspiring Women of Brookline” scroll down for a familiar face) in which my portrait was one of the featured bunch of ladies. Champagne, etc. But I just thought, “Blah.” I don’t know why; it just happens to me, something to do with the outer structure of my nerve cells and how quickly they spin. Seriously.

Ned said, “But Sue, everytime you go to Naj’s class you come home so psyched. You say, ‘Ooh, Neddy, looked what I learned!’ and then you do this…” And then he proceeded to bellydance. My Ned! Doing a side hip eight! With arms a la John Travolta in Staying Alive. Well, that just beat all. I had to go after that.

So of course the moment I set foot in Green Street Studios, a true down-and-dirty sincere and extremely cool dance studio, with huge wall-to-wall mirrors (bless its funky heart) and perfect squooshy floors.

Naj started in with snake arms, really breaking them down. If you think snake arms is easy (are easy?) you should try it with Najmat the slavedriver. You go as follows: arms out, elbows slightly bent, lower belly tucked, upper belly pulled straight up (as Najmat says, “the Girls must be happy; lifted way up”) butt tucked, legs together, always together: bellydancers never spread their legs, no matter what James Bond movies show you. My teacher says: “Your thighs must love each other.” Right Arm goes shoulder up, then elbow, then wrist floats up; then wrist caves but fingers go up as the arm drops, shoulder, elbow, wrist, hand as if your hand is painting the wall. All with the posture unchanging. As that arm gets to your hip, the left begins its slow ascension. Voila, un serpent est ne.

Then, after our arms were burning like an MF, we switched to hip circles: tiny interior; medium, and large. I learned how to do the big hip-circle-with-hair-flip! We took our hair out of our barrettes and we all flipped our heads down to the floor as our torsos circled to the front, flat back, and down when the head, hair sweeps floor, and then flip! up you go with everything tucked and up, and the hair shakes back from your eyes. It is magical and playful.

I felt so good after that that I did go the Inspiring Women show, and saw lots of gal-pals there, had some sparkling wine and candy corn, and headed home to an empty house. The boys are at the new Apple Store downtown. Enjoy yourselves, my darlings, because I’m going to soak in a lavender water tub! When Ned comes home I’m going to say, “Hey! Looked what I learned in class!”

And show him how it’s really done.