Sunday, May 26, 2013

Being Punked by Accident
Just to recap for you. I've been sick and achy and  in rehearsal all week, except Thursday night when they canceled it (after I was all dressed and ready to go out the door) because there weren't enough of us. I was so tired on Friday afternoon that in the car on the way to the gym I started laugh-crying hysterically thinking of having to throw my leg over the flex bar as if I were pole dancing for yet another time this week. I turned to F and said, "I feel like an old stripper. I know how Cher feels on any given Thursday night." Then I cracked myself up.

Today in the emergency special Saturday afternoon rehearsal we got monkey butt nothing done yet again. For a piece of music that lasts five minutes and twenty seven seconds I have now spent twelve full hours watching people who could have choreographed this whole shebang ahead of time debating ridiculous things, playing pranks on one another, slapping each other's rears, and sporadically yelling things like "sotto maiorca" which is a way of talking about people's nether regions. Today, for example, we all had to learn a sequence of jerky head and arm movements that each one of us is supposed to begin randomly doing on a given count. If I start with 4, I then should do moves 1, 2, & 3. I was pretty proud of myself for figuring this out in Italian until la Ginetta started yelling at me about being off the rhythm. I felt badly for a moment until it occurred to me that there is no f-ing rhythm to this song which is from what I can tell a bunch of elves and fairies farting in a forest.

The one ray of hope was when Pierpaolo told me to run into the other sala and get the last tube for our rehearsal. I ran in there where there were some muscle head guys working out, but I could not find the tube thing -- which is enormous and should be hard to miss. The men shrugged and then Pierpaolo and Ricky fell out of the doorway laughing and pointing at me. They already had all the tubes obviously. That Pierpaolo is such a joker. It was almost like I fit in for a second. And then things went back to normal.

Tomorrow I have invited between five and two hundred people over (I don't get how to do an RSVP in Italian and I am almost sure they don't exist) for a cocktail/aperitivo at my home. It has been expressly forbidden by the fancy gym and I am doing it anyway to try and create bonds between myself and the clients. The following morning we are supposed to get up at dawn to take T to the children's hospital and then I have to go to work.

In a masochistic stupor I chose to do a version of this for my opening number and at the slow part I run off the stage to the back of the classroom and do theatrical arm movements and then run back. I don't know why. I may be one of the only human beings who still watches Smash and I don't even live in America.

 Here are the fairies and elves doing their thing in the wild. I dare anyone who is not associated with Momix to count this out and pair it with accompanying dance movements:


Laurence said...

You're supposed to dance to *that*? That's bizarre. Might as well dance to 4'33".

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