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| Tuesday, May 30, 2006 |
| Fancy Food |
Mr Ata and I have been doing the Festival of Food. This is a little eventy sort of thing where six classy (read:expensive) restaurants put on a special deal - for about $20 or $25 a head you get bread, entree, main meal, side salad and a little something sweet afterward. Essentially, it means that what would usually be a ridiculously expensive night out becomes a mildly expensive night out. Keeping in mind that drinks are extra, of course. Usually we go away for a couple of nights and stay in a bed-and-breakfast, but this year we decided to spread it over a few weeks and do the Festival of Food instead. What this actually means is that for one night a week over six weeks, we go to Nice Places and pretend that we have manners whilst eating food that we can't pronounce and are not sure what implement to use for. Like last night, part of the entree plate was lobster bisque, served in little cups. With no spoons provided, we weren't sure how you were supposed to eat it. Ata doesn't like lobster anything anyway, so Mr Ata got two. After a brief debate (and the discovery that you really can't eat it with a fork), he drank it straight out of the little cups. Hopefully that is what one is supposed to do. Not that anyone was paying any attention to us, anyway. At least, I hope they weren't paying attention when I ate the leftover salsa from the prawns with my fingers. It was very tasty. I did somehow manage to resist lapping up the incredibly scrumptious caramelised balsamic vinegar straight out of the dish, so I feel that the night was a success on the whole.
Ata took the opportunity to try out her American accent on the waiter. He didn't actually laugh aloud (hooray! 10 points for Ata!), but he did look as though he might (oh well. Down five points). Some work still required.
I must go now, I have just realised that I brought shopping home and forgot to put some things in the fridge. Tonight we are eating toasted tomato & cheese sandwiches. Which are all very well, but I shall be secretly thinking of yam gnocchi with sundried tomatoes and warrigal spinach and manzanillo olives and verjuice buerre blanc. MMmmmmMmmm. |
posted by Ata @ 6:00 pm  |
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| Saturday, May 27, 2006 |
| GenAm |
Today Ata spent most of the day learning to talk American. General American, to be precise. In Ata's case, that really wasn't very precise at all. How do you fit all those r's in? And yet NOT put them in in phrases like, "I have an idea about that"? It's haarrrrrd. Harrd. Rrd. Nevermind saying 'ee' without pulling your lips back. That's just wrong.
Anyway. Ata was worse than the best but better than the worst in the group. So that's a start. Mediocrity, that's where I want to be.
Sounds like a song.
Medioooooooocrity!
That's where I waaaaanna be!
Not achieve so high, or sink so low
Just plain averaaaaage.
Sigh. If anyone happens to know the song 'Majesty' (which you may not, it's a chorus we used to sing in church. I don't think I've sung it for ages, now that I come to consider it. My church seems to delight in springing new songs on us every time we go, leaving me in a permanent state of squinting at the overheads. Mind you, the tunes are fairly predictable, so once you've got the common ryhmes down pat it's not too hard to keep up. But I digress), I guarantee you'll never hear it again without thinking 'Mediooooocrityyyy'. Another perfectly good song ruined. Like when I realised that the one that goes 'give praise unto your maker' sounds rather a lot like 'give praise unto Jamaica'. I haven't been able to sing that with a straight face since.
Where was I? That's right. Not so good, not so bad. I demonstrated my newfound talent to Mr Ata. After two sentences, he said, "That's going to really annoy me." So now I have another weapon in my arsenal of irritation. Given that babytalk no longer bugs him. The 'why' game is still good, too, as is the 'whatever' game.
It was very very cold here this week. On Thursday there was ice on the car windscreen. I have never had to deal with Ice before. I got in the car and flicked the windscreen wipers on - and they didn't help! I was very surprised. Then I realised it was ice, not dew. I tried to squirt it with water from the water-squirters, but they didn't work at all! Very very surprised. After running the wipers and windscreen heater for a while, I came to the conclusion that if I relied on this approach, I was going to be Terribly Late for my bizarre job. While they don't mind me being late, I don't think it looks Professional. And I do like to appear Professional. So I got out and scrubbed my fingertips through the ice. I had wooly gloves on. The ice froze on my wooly glove-tips, but the wipers could wipe away the broken ice now so that was an improvement. It was very very cold. Turns out I did leave my MP3 player at work, and my supervisor put it in her drawer when I called to check that it was there, so that was all good. But then I didn't want to listen to it at work again in case I left it behind. Plus I swapped earphones with Mr Ata because mine were too big and they made my ears hurt, but the wires on Mr Ata's are really stiff and sticky-out and I don't like that.
And I have now finished the create a file-check the name-drag a file-do it again job I was working on. Supposedly I am now to test some instructions my supervisor is writing as part of a Trim training document. Next week I am working Tuesday and Friday instead of Thursday and Friday.
I sat next to a woman on the bus on Friday and talked about how her two sons still live at home. The 27-yr-old moved out for a couple of years but then moved back in because his lease was up and his friends were messy. She wishes the 23-yr-old would move out for a while at least because he takes stuff for granted. She doesn't think he has a good grip on the real world. We agreed that it's easier for boys to live at home for longer than girls, because girls like their independance more. Or something like that. Do you know what I like about travelling on buses? I like the way everyone holds the doors open for each other so the bus driver won't drive off before everyone's finished getting off. It's like an unspoken agreement, each person holds it open for the next person, and everyone checks to see if there's anyone else getting off before they let it swing shut so the driver can leave. When I was a teenager, there was a couple of deaths because people got caught in the bus door and the driver didn't realise and drove off with their leg caught in the door. Well, at least one person died. I think another one just got injured. So I always feel good about getting off the bus when someone holds the door open. I remember at the time there was talk about putting a mechanism in place that meant the driver couldn't drive off until the door was closed, I don't know if that happened or not.
We still don't know about Mr Ata's work. He thinks he'll get a redundancy, and I think that Korea looks the most financially viable option for us. But we haven't heard anything much. So for the time being we are still in Adelaide.
Anyway, now, despite not having posted for days and days, you are pretty much caught up on the Life of Ata. |
| posted by Ata @ 8:17 pm |
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| Monday, May 22, 2006 |
| Echidna Wrangling |
Yesterday Ata and Mr Ata went with their Friends-Around-the-Corner to a National Park near Victor Harbour.
For those who don't know - basically everyone likely to be reading this, I guess - Victor Harbour is a Seaside Town about an hour south of Adelaide. It has whale-watching in winter and an island where penguins live. The island is connected to the mainland with a big bridge that has a horse-drawn tram which one may ride upon for a small fee.
Ata's FAC began a PhD some years ago. Part of her study involved the placing of traps for the catching of critters. While they were actively working the traps, this involved FAC spending one week a month camping out and checking traps daily. They were studying pygmy possums, which are pretty much what the name suggests.
Now, the traps are no longer being used, and must be removed. They are a basic hole-in-the-ground traps made from Giant Mayonnaise Buckets purchased from a fast-food outlet. When they are being used, the lid is taken off so critters fall in and cannot get out. Hence they must be checked daily. When they are not being used, the lids are left on. Some of the traps were to be left in place, as the University intends to use them again in the future, but most of the rest had to be taken out. However, after... mm... nigh on 10 years, some of the buckets/lids are a little the worse for wear. Particularly the lids, some of which were cracked and leaking, some broken, some seemed to have been removed by Larrikins (presumably) and left on the ground. Of those traps being left in place, we had to check lid/bucket integrity and cover the tops up with dirt to prevent animal injury (positions were marked with a white stake).
There was a fairly large contingent assembled for this effort, as it was 125 traps to be removed/checked. Mostly removed. Ata was swiftly denied a shovel and handed a large garbage bag instead, to collect bucket lids in. She did get the opportunity to demonstrate ideal bucket removal technique to Mr Ata and FAC's father-in-law. That is, once a ditch has been dug around the bucket and the handle unearthed, stand directly over the trap and pull up on the handle, taking care to lift with one's knees. This minimises bucket damage, back injury, and shovel breakage. After ten years in the ground, some of the traps were difficult to remove. One shovel handle was snapped due to overly aggressive application of leverage. It was not a cheap shovel, either. Ata should know - she bought it.
The highlight of the day - aside from discovering that several traps were now housing frogs that had made their homes in accumulated mud at the bottom of traps with damaged lids - was the echidna!
One trap with a broken lid was found to contain a soggy and disgruntled but otherwise undamaged echidna. This resulted in the whole group gathering around to observe the spiky critter as it peered up out of the trap, and debating how best to remove it from the trap. Most considered it unwise to attempt to dig up the trap with the echidna inside, wanting to minimise trauma and potential echidna damage. No-one, however, was too keen on removing the beast.
Except Ata, of course, who's desire to handle critters always outweighs sensible caution. Of course, the fact that she was wearing leather gloves did come under some consideration. Even so, prising the critter out of the bucket was a little tricksy, as it was just big enough to occupy the whole diameter of the trap - making it difficult to get two hands on it. Ata settled for one hand, scooping the beast up the side of the bucket until she could get a proper grip. Here's a surprise - echidnas squeak! Like little mice! Ata did not know that.
Ata thought the echidna should go to a vet or wildlife service for checking. It's feet were wet and swollen, and it was unknown how long it had been in the trap. It was put into a dry bucket until FAC could be found to give a final verdict. She felt it looked healthy enough for immediate release, so released it was - onto a sandy patch where it immediately began digging itself in.
Ata loves echidnas. Cute little spikely monotremes. Who cares about koalas when there are echidnas.
All the traps were checked or removed by the time it started to look like home-time. Which was good. The emu that had greeted the first arrivals at the gate and attempted to dismantle the last arrival's car was no where to be seen on the drive back to the gate. There were many roos about, though, and very active as it was just on dusk. FAC drove the University 4WD slowly and with great caution, particularly after one especially enthusiastic roo made a flying leap over some fallen branches and across in front of the car. The males of the group walked part of the way out, as there was insufficient space in the troopie to carry all at once (we had arrived in shifts as different people got lost - the instructions were missing a crucial turn off).
It was cold and dark by the time we got back to Adelaide. Ata and Mr Ata stopped at a favourite haunt for food before proceeding home. It was a good day. |
| posted by Ata @ 6:50 pm |
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| Saturday, May 20, 2006 |
| Butterflies |
Yesterday in my lunch break I went to a furniture shop.
Adelaide has the highest number of furniture shops per capita of any Australian city. Just incidentally.
Anyway, this furniture shop was called China House Trading (or possibly China Trading House - I can't remember). It is just before the bus stop I get off at on my way to my Thursday/Friday job, and I have gone past it on the bus - peering curiously through the windows - for a total of 6 bus trips TO work and craned my neck to peer through the windows from across the road on my way home from work for a total of 5 evenings. So on Friday I thought I would go in and browse. Seeing as how my usual lunchtime hangout (the Veale Gardens across the road from my building, where there is a creek and a rose garden and droopy trees and parrots and lorikeets and crested pigeons and ducks and mudlarks and some other kind of yellow-beaked bird) was occupied by other members of the Company having a sausage sizzle for lunch, that I was not attending.
As it turns out, it sells furniture of assorted Oriental style. Beautiful, incredible, stunning furniture, carved and painted and gorgeous. A table made from a heavy cart-wheel topped with glass. A low table made from a twisty tree trunk, with little stools surrounding it made from tree stumps - polished smooth on top and with stumpy roots for legs. Massive drawers with ornate carving and austere glass display cabinets lacquered in red.
But while I could have spent a small fortune and furnished at least three houses from that shop, it was the Butterfly Cabinets that I almost, almost, almost lashed out on. If someone had handed me a thousand dollars and said purchase at will, I would have had them delivered that same afternoon.
They were small cabinets, too large to be bedside cabinets, the sort that might go either side of a doorway or in the corner of a reading-room. The tops and sides were painted black, and the doors were painted white. A metal plate - perhaps two handspans wide? - was set right in the middle, over the crack between the two doors. It was shaped like a butterfly, and held the key that opened the lock that kept the doors shut. And all over the cabinets, in all colours and varying shapes and sizes, was a rainbow of butterflys, as if they may take off at any moment and leave the cabinets bare but the air full of fluttering wings.
There was a folding dressing screen that matched.
But while Mr Ata loves me very much, I suspect that even his patience could be stretched by the impulse purchase of incredibly gorgeous cabinets. So I have taken them, stolen them to store away in my Very Own Room. Perhaps either side of the door, opposite the darkly ornate opium bed, so that I may look at them, draped over my piles of silk cushions, whenever I tire of reading. I shall store my tea-set in them, and my wine glasses, the ones set with flashing gems in the stems and heavy glass bases. And when my dearest friends visit - only the closest to my heart, mind you - we shall recline on deep soft floor cushions scattered artfully over the thick elegantly patterned Turkish rugs while we take our tea or sample our wine.
While Two Shoes plays softly in the background, of course. |
| posted by Ata @ 8:40 pm |
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| Friday, May 19, 2006 |
| Not so Happy |
Today started out alright. Except I overslept. Then I nearly caused a car accident on the way to work, because I didn't look to my left before turning a corner on my way to the bus stop. The road to the left is a dead-end.
When I realised the car was there, I tried to jam my brakes on. But in the fright of realising I was about to cause an accident, my foot slipped slightly under the brake pedal and I couldn't get it up to take it off the accelerator.
Fortunately I worked out what the problem was and got my feet untangled in time. The car crossed safely in front of me. An elderly couple walking along the street saw the whole fiasco. When it was obvious that the danger was past, the man started gesticulating energetically in an elaborate fashion which, roughly translated, meant something along the lines of "pay more attention, foolish driver!". If I had translated it exactly, I'm sure I'd be here for another couple of paragraphs.
Already embarrassed that I had nearly caused an accident (albeit low-speed) through my lack of attention and annoyed at the pedestrian who really had no business being involved at this point, I made a face and waved my hands vaguely back at him. Then I realised that (a) he could see me and (b) that response wasn't likely to make him stop and realise that he should mind his own beeswax but rather make him think I was both inattentive AND rude. So I rearranged my face into a more socially acceptable sulk and proceeded to the bus stop.
The middle part of the day went fine by comparison. Although apparently I have been doing SOMETHING at work which has generated a whole lot of security breach alert emails that have been sent to my supervisor.
Then I came home. I think I left my MP3 player at work. Either I left it at work, or it was tangled in my coat and I dropped it on the ground outside the building when I put my coat on. Because I was thinking about whether I left it at work or lost it outside work or whether the cleaner over the weekend would nick it, I forgot to go to Coles and buy something for tea. So I hope Mr Ata is content to eat toasted ham and tomato and cheese sandwiches.
Luckily I did remember to buy cat food. The beasties were STARVING when I got home (we ran out yesterday, so all they've had is some Dentabits to tide them over), but now they are fed. |
| posted by Ata @ 6:11 pm |
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| Thursday, May 18, 2006 |
| Happy |
Today I Was Cheerful.
At the end of the day, I walked from work to drop something off at another office and then to the bus stop to go home. About 45 minutes all up. It was probably the combination of exercise and upbeat music on my MP3 player that made me feel very cheerful. For part of the walk I entertained myself by freaking out strangers. Did you know that if you sing along and bop your head, people try to pretend they're not grinning at you, but if you add some dance steps they actually get out of your way? So I have decided that, next time I have to get through the city in a hurry I will not run and try to dodge other pedestrians, I will dance.
I bought a single dark chocolate truffle at Haighs as I neared the bus stop. The trial chocolate today was a dark peppermint crunch, and the shop lady gave me three big chunks. I Love Peppermint Chocolate. I ate my truffle as I waited at a pedestrian light and thought about how cheerful I was. Then I gave people my most thousand-watt smile as I crossed the road and headed for the stop. I have discovered that middle-aged men in business clothes give the best response to radiance. Young ones just look uncomfortable. Women either give you a nervous smile or pretend they didn't see you. I ate a piece of dark peppermint crunch while I stood at the bus stop and thought about how much I love the Cat Empire.
The bus came and we got on. There was lots of room because it was only just after 5pm. The later buses tend to fill up before they get to that stop, and sometimes you have to stand. I sat facing the back. I ate another piece of dark peppermint crunch with my eyes closed and thought about how much I love dark chocolate and peppermint. I concentrated on the contrast between the chocolate and the chips of peppermint. I pretended for a second that I was going to save the last piece of chocolate for Mr Ata. Then I ate it, very slowly, imagining that I was tall and sexy with long dark hair and eyes to drown in.
If I'd had a fourth piece I could have been a billionairess on her own private island. But then the bus stopped, anyway, and I had to get off, so it was probably just as well. |
| posted by Ata @ 5:29 pm |
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| Tuesday, May 16, 2006 |
| Excitement |
There was movement at the station, for the word had got around - that the colt from Old Regret had got away.
Alright, not entirely applicable. But I always liked the image of "there was movement at the station..." It neatly sums up the feeling in Ataland at the moment. Movement at the station. Not neccessarily productive, not particularly organised, and not really going anywhere yet - but definately movement.
What has spurred this movement, I hear you ask? Well, due to restructuring, it has become a Distinct Possibility that Mr Ata could be made redundant. Hooray!
Why hooray, did you query? Of course you did. If you didn't, do so now, quickly.
Okay. Now that the questioning is done with, I shall continue. The Hooray is because it has been a long held desire of Ata's to move overseas. Mr Ata, on the other hand, was never so keen, as it would involve giving up a good job to go to uncertainty. But the bonus now is that there is the possibility of a contract following the redundancy - possibly Korea or Malaysia. Singapore has also been mentioned. Ata would dearly love to go to Korea. Ata has wanted to spend some time in Korea since she was 13, and knows she would easily pick up English teaching work there. The work options in Malaysia or Singapore would be more limited, but Ata is sure she would manage.
This Possibility has, however, inspired many doubts and uncertainties. For example, what does one do with two cats? If it were a short contract - say, six months - then we could arrange a housesitter who would care for cats. But if it is longer? Twelve months, two years? Do we sell the house, or rent it out? All the friends who could possibly be coerced into housing two cats either already have cats, or would have cats if it weren't for their allergies. When would it be? There is a Wedding that we must be back for in December.
And if there is a redundancy, but no offer of a desirable contract - what then? Mr Ata would probably be able to get work through his Company in other countries. Ata has no particular desire to go to London (as suggested by AM), but Wales or Scotland could be good. Or maybe Canada. AF has reminded us that his Company is "looking for IT people" - of course, working for AF's company would place us conveniently in Darwin, which Ata would not so much mind - but the temptation of going OS is very great.
Mr Ata has more daily concerns. How does one meet people? How does one make friends in a New Place, much less a Foreign Place? Ata has pointed out that she has done just this many times before, which seems to have provided a small comfort.
Possibility is Afoot. There is movement at the station. |
| posted by Ata @ 12:59 pm |
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| Tuesday, May 09, 2006 |
| Double-booked |
Ah! I have just double booked myself! Two events, both all day Saturday 27th. Why do I do this to myself? I will be thinking, "Yes, this event at this time on this day. Lovely!" Then immediately after, I am thinking, "Yes, this other event at this time on this day. Lovely!" Only afterwards does realisation sink in.
Now I have to choose. Neither has been paid for, so I can still cancel. On the other hand, one will only be happening once, while there will be another opportunity for the other later in the year. A friend will be attending one, but not the other. The one-off is more expensive, but I want to do that one more than the less expensive.
This is the sort of dilemma that drives me to chocolate. |
| posted by Ata @ 3:50 pm |
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| Thursday, May 04, 2006 |
| On Assignment |
Ata began a new assignment today. Thursdays and Fridays, 9-4, for the next 6 weeks. Or thereabouts.
It is in many respects a nice job. Good people, quiet office, no phone-answering, precious few phones even ringing. Everyone works away, diligently and quietly. I am told that most of the other occupants of the room are database administrators, with the exception of the 3 or 4 of us off in one corner. There is natural light from big windows, a consistent supply of biscuits, and the kitchen is well stocked with assorted hot drinks and an automatic espresso maker. There is a happy hour on Friday afternoons from 4pm, when the Company supplies beer. Ata does not drink beer, but she recognises the value of improving employee morale by making people feel valuable. And if that takes a couple of beers on a Friday afternoon whilst everyone chats, so be it. There is, apparently, a gym as well - in the building next door - which is exclusively for Company employees at a Very Minimal Cost. On the whole, Ata is beginning to feel that if she were offered permanent work there, she might not say no.
Arriving at the Assignment today, however, was a little daunting. After being ushered through the door and up to the third floor, Ata was shown a desk. A large desk, with a computer workstation and a pen.
"Here you go!" the Supervisory Person said brightly.
Ata had a sudden flash to the episode of Black Books where Fran gets a job through one of Manny's shady underworld contacts, but no-one tells her what to do. Being too frightened of telling someone that she doesn't know what they want her to do, she pretends to work. It turns into a nightmarish spiral of increasing responsibility without any hint of the actual position.
Fortunately, this was not to be. Ata was instructed, and spent the entire day doing this:
1. Create the archive file.
2. Rename the archive file.
3. Drag the old file into the archive file.
4. Check for any attached files.
5. Mark it off on the spreadsheet.
6. Do it again.
Apparently they recently swapped from one system to another, and this must be done to place the old files into order in the new system. Ata is a very diligent worker, and quickly picked up the basics of the task. Create-rename-drag-check-next. Ata would have thought that a script could be written to do this, but then, who is Ata to question the arcane ways of Information Services.
So if anyone wants to know what Ata will be doing on Thursdays and Fridays, 9-4, for the next six weeks - see above. |
| posted by Ata @ 5:28 pm |
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| Wednesday, May 03, 2006 |
| Pony Overload |
Inspired by Chilanya!
This is the original herd. Well, there's a couple of ring-ins on the left, including my only G3 pony. I couldn't leave her sitting on the shelf at the op-shop all on her own. They were acquired at a local op-shop not long before the taking of the picture.
While they don't look too bad from a distance, up close they're all a bit grotty. And suffering a lot of mold peppering. Braided Beauty is the worst off.
I cleaned them all up as best I could - the red dust all over BB in the picture above mostly had to be removed with a cotton bud & nail polish remover. Scrubbing with detergent got some off, but the rest needed more encouragement to get rid of.
I couldn't do much for the manes & tails on the twins - so many haircuts, and they're very frizzy. At least they're a little cleaner now. It might not be an art gallery, but surely it's better than a box!
I am terribly proud of the tight curls in Caramel Crunch's tail (top shelf, the one with the nightmarishly pink mane & tail). Rainbow Cloud's curls were also restored, with very careful work to seperate her tail into four colours - as it was originally. She's the white one on the middle shelf. But I suspect this is only the beginning of an obsession. Today's acquisitions:
Pinwheel, I think, will be my first attempt at customising. She is so thoroughly texta-marked that surely nothing I do can make her worse off - she's spotted all over with red and blue texta, as if someone left her in their art box with all the lids off. It doesn't show up in the picture as much as it does in real life - the flash seems to disguise the marks. Her symbols are rusty and badly rubbed, too.  Sadly, the local op-shop (which seems to be the only op-shop in Adelaide with a consistent supply of ponies!) has realised that people collect them. They do give you a discount if you buy groups of them, though! I did purchase some last week, as well. I think this is developing into a full-blown hobby. |
| posted by Ata @ 6:39 pm |
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| Tuesday, May 02, 2006 |
| Inspired by KTF |
| Your Theme Song is Back in Black by AC/DC |  "Back in black, I hit the sack,I've been too long, I'm glad to be back"
Things sometimes get really crazy for you, and sometimes you have to get away from all the chaos.But each time you stage your comeback, it's even better than the last! |
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| posted by Ata @ 7:40 pm |
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| Shimmy to the left |
Today Ata attended her first bellydance class in... mm... two years.
In retrospect, selecting a class being run by the school's principal dancer - a woman who apparently has at least twice as many joints as she should have - was perhaps not a brilliant idea.
When taking up an activity that one used to do, but has not done for some time, there is always that moment of realisation where one says to oneself - "This is harder than I remember." Shimmies are that realisation for me.
Ata has never been a brilliant shimmier. For the uninitiated, a hip shimmy is when you wiggle your be-hind. A shoulder shimmy is when one wiggles ones shoulders. There is also the bust shimmy, where one wiggles one's - well, you get the picture.
Hip shimmies (hereon referred to as 'shimmies') are harder than might be anticipated. Certainly Ata found that, way back a few years in her first beginner class.
"Shake my bottom? I can do that."
Of course, it is not quite so simple as just shaking that thang. The movement must come from the knees, while the hips are left loose, the back remains straight, bottom tucked in, chest up, arms up, and SMILE! Well, alright, you don't have to smile. But it took Ata a goodly portion of the ten-week term to get an actual bum-wiggle as opposed to awkward wobble that began at the bottom but quickly transferred itself upwards, like a dog shaking off water. Even once she began to be able to produce the required shimmying motion, keeping it restricted to the under-waist level remained a challenge. And keeping it going for more than a few beats - somehow, even once a good shimmy is up and running, it frequently seems to wobble itself out of existance. Where it goes is anyone's guess, but Ata has certainly found that there are many challenges to the shimmy. Particularly once extra movements are added. Wave your arms about mysteriously like this! Step forward like this! Add a hip lift! Now stretch that leg out! And now some undulations! Stand on one foot! Controlling one action is almost more than Ata can cope with - memory of the struggle of keeping arms steady and in position whilst carefully controlling hips and knees and feet at the same time comes flooding back. And to top it off - now she wants it done with legs almost straight, to give better control and a finer shimmy.
Naturally, it is not just the movements themselves that are tricksy. Remembering what to call them is equally difficult. Shimmy - easy, I know what that is. Hip drop, hip twist, hip slide, hip sway, figure of eight - fairly simple to recall, the names are self-explanatory once you've learnt the moves. But then there are the more fanciful names.
Arabesque! Cairo glide! (all good, Ata is keeping up)
Crescent! (yep, still with you)
Three-quarter shimmy! (ahh- oh, right, like that. Got it, good, keeping up now...)
Maya! (okay, don't actually remember what it is but the name is familiar)
Jewel in the Crown! (WHAT? Has this woman been chewing her incense sticks?!)
Ah, well. It is good to be back in classes, and I'm sure Shamira will have even Ata whipped into shape in no time. Some kind of shape, anyway. Or possibly just whipped. |
| posted by Ata @ 2:15 pm |
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