Getting my bitch on!

Today was the first Hula class since before Christmas, and I'm about to get full on bitchy, so prepare.

Until today, I hadn't actually seen Melissa (ha ole) since the very beginning of December. She's become so impossible that the two other, older dancers also noticed it, and in a big way. They were mystified as to why she was suddenly so difficult. I had no polite way of telling them that she'd been a top o the line bitch since I met her, and she was only showing it to others now. And the reason for that had me mystified as well. (See, Melissa is one of these bitches who doesn't think that she's a bitch, and if someone else thinks she's a bitch, her reasoning is that she's jsut being "strong" and they don't understand that. She thinks that she's being confident, when what she's really being is a ballbreaker who has to come first in all things. She thinks she's being assertive when what she really is is self serving. She thinks that the way to do things is "take what you can, you deserve it," but she never minds that she's taking from other people and that she's the only one who seems to be allowed to do this--and this extends not only to resources, but to time, stage space, and whatever the hell she wants.)

Here's a very small example. In December, last class she was in till today, we were doing a Hula Noho, that is, Hula done on your knees, with all the bending and swinging and swaying etc. It's very difficult. We use mats for this, really just cut up pieces of a rug, but we only have four of them; this means someone has to be without. I offered mine up and said I'd use my sweater. Meanwhile I see Melissa over in the corner, all sulky and surly and bitchfaced, sitting down on one of the rugs, while Ali was using her own sweater. I offered the rug to Ali again, but she said she was fine with the what she had, after all. This was right as my knee started really going again, so I didn't press the issue.

So we went through the entire dance about five times. Or at least four of us did. Melissa? Sat on her rug the whole time, doing nothing more than the hand motions, while Ali did the whole thing on her knees the entire time.

It's little things like that I really notice, you know?

So she's been skipping class lately, but she was back in class today. She comes in fifteen minutes late (to be fair, three of them were fifteen minutes late; Claudine and I got fed up and started warmups without them,) and she's talking to Ali--really loud--over the music that Claudine and I had on. Talking, giggling, making a really big entrance. Claudine turned around to greet them (I only said, "Hi, Ali!") and Melissa turned her sour, bitchface to Claudine and said, "Tch! Oh. Hi." And then went back to trying to engage Ali in conversation. During the entire class, I think she said maybe four sentences, and believe me when I tell you I ignored each one of them. When Camille (always the sweet one, always trying to keep everything nice, equal, calm, lighthearted, mellow,) asked Melissa if she thought that our dance plan for next week sounded good to her, Melissa looked away and said, "I don't care."

Good, bitch. Don't care. And keep on letting the other dancers in on how you feel, too.

I think she was miffed because we had decided (on my suggestion,) to do some of the more difficult Kahiko Hulas. Everyone knows that Kahiko is my favorite, and that I think we need to do more of it. (FTR, Melissa was the one who told me last year that we should change the show format to less Kahiko and more hapa-haole, Little Brown Gal and things like that. She said, "I know Kahiko is your bag, but people don't get it.") But we've become almost entirely 'Auana and hapa-haole, and I'm starting to hate it. Not that I hate 'Auana, because as I've said before, a good 'Auana is a wonderful thing. But we've been doing nothing but, and nothing but the easy, baby ones, too. For instance, one of Melissa's big "show stoppers" is "One Paddle Two Paddle." Umm. Nice, but that's really for kids to do. And when she does it, she thinks it's the most wonderful, cutest thing.

So anyway, lately, when she's not in class being bitchface to everyone, she's been skipping out. The two older girls and myself were wondering about this amongst ourselves, and Camille suggested that maybe Melissa had a crush on a boy or something, that maybe she'd gotten a boyfriend and that was why she was missing class. Which, we found out from Ali the next time Melissa didn't show up, is the case. She's got her very first boyfriend. (Don't go thinking I'm picking on a little kid, here. Melissa is my age.)

Now, I'm not one of these girls who forgets her friends when she gets a boyfriend. I'm not one of these girls for whom everyone Not Boyfriend becomes a second class citizen, who forgets about her hobbies and would rather be doing nothing more than snogging Boyfriend, is always on the phone with him, counts the hours when he's away, suddenly thinks her girl friends are silly and frivolous, and divides her time in two sections: With Him or Without Him. In fact, in the past, I've been hurt by that. I haven't had oodles of boyfriends--I could count the serious ones on one hand--but no matter how much I thought I was in love, I was always still been a friend to my friends, so when a friend of mine didn't treat me the same way, I would tend to feel very hurt.

Well now I have to say, I hope to god this is the case with her. I hope she falls desperately, madly in love, becomes The Girlfriend and nothing more, spends all her waking moments either with him or thinking of him, and completely forgets Hula. There is hope yet.

(Also FTR, I'm not the one who came up with "Bitchface," either. That would be Tricia, and it was soon adopted by some of the people at work, who had seen Melissa during [and after] the performance we did two summers ago, and asked me who was the chick with the plastic smile, looking like she had a coat-hanger in her mouth during all the dances, and looking like she'd sucked on a lemon whenever she wasn't onstage. My good friend Tricia was backstage after the show that night, and took an immediate dislike to Melissa, who was in a frenzy as she ordered everyone around to stop what they were doing and look for her pu'ili sticks, which she had misplaced, incidentally--in fact she nicked my pu'ili sticks during the show because she couldn't find hers. Since then, on Fridays at work I'd usually be whining about how I had to see Melissa in class the next day. It wasn't long before everyone knew the story, and it was Tricia who one day asked me, "Do you have to see Bitchface tomorrow?" And "Bitchface" just stuck.)

Getting my bitch on!

Today was the first Hula class since before Christmas, and I'm about to get full on bitchy, so prepare.

Until today, I hadn't actually seen Melissa (ha ole) since the very beginning of December. She's become so impossible that the two other, older dancers also noticed it, and in a big way. They were mystified as to why she was suddenly so difficult. I had no polite way of telling them that she'd been a top o the line bitch since I met her, and she was only showing it to others now. And the reason for that had me mystified as well. (See, Melissa is one of these bitches who doesn't think that she's a bitch, and if someone else thinks she's a bitch, her reasoning is that she's jsut being "strong" and they don't understand that. She thinks that she's being confident, when what she's really being is a ballbreaker who has to come first in all things. She thinks she's being assertive when what she really is is self serving. She thinks that the way to do things is "take what you can, you deserve it," but she never minds that she's taking from other people and that she's the only one who seems to be allowed to do this--and this extends not only to resources, but to time, stage space, and whatever the hell she wants.)

Here's a very small example. In December, last class she was in till today, we were doing a Hula Noho, that is, Hula done on your knees, with all the bending and swinging and swaying etc. It's very difficult. We use mats for this, really just cut up pieces of a rug, but we only have four of them; this means someone has to be without. I offered mine up and said I'd use my sweater. Meanwhile I see Melissa over in the corner, all sulky and surly and bitchfaced, sitting down on one of the rugs, while Ali was using her own sweater. I offered the rug to Ali again, but she said she was fine with the what she had, after all. This was right as my knee started really going again, so I didn't press the issue.

So we went through the entire dance about five times. Or at least four of us did. Melissa? Sat on her rug the whole time, doing nothing more than the hand motions, while Ali did the whole thing on her knees the entire time.

It's little things like that I really notice, you know?

So she's been skipping class lately, but she was back in class today. She comes in fifteen minutes late (to be fair, three of them were fifteen minutes late; Claudine and I got fed up and started warmups without them,) and she's talking to Ali--really loud--over the music that Claudine and I had on. Talking, giggling, making a really big entrance. Claudine turned around to greet them (I only said, "Hi, Ali!") and Melissa turned her sour, bitchface to Claudine and said, "Tch! Oh. Hi." And then went back to trying to engage Ali in conversation. During the entire class, I think she said maybe four sentences, and believe me when I tell you I ignored each one of them. When Camille (always the sweet one, always trying to keep everything nice, equal, calm, lighthearted, mellow,) asked Melissa if she thought that our dance plan for next week sounded good to her, Melissa looked away and said, "I don't care."

Good, bitch. Don't care. And keep on letting the other dancers in on how you feel, too.

I think she was miffed because we had decided (on my suggestion,) to do some of the more difficult Kahiko Hulas. Everyone knows that Kahiko is my favorite, and that I think we need to do more of it. (FTR, Melissa was the one who told me last year that we should change the show format to less Kahiko and more hapa-haole, Little Brown Gal and things like that. She said, "I know Kahiko is your bag, but people don't get it.") But we've become almost entirely 'Auana and hapa-haole, and I'm starting to hate it. Not that I hate 'Auana, because as I've said before, a good 'Auana is a wonderful thing. But we've been doing nothing but, and nothing but the easy, baby ones, too. For instance, one of Melissa's big "show stoppers" is "One Paddle Two Paddle." Umm. Nice, but that's really for kids to do. And when she does it, she thinks it's the most wonderful, cutest thing.

So anyway, lately, when she's not in class being bitchface to everyone, she's been skipping out. The two older girls and myself were wondering about this amongst ourselves, and Camille suggested that maybe Melissa had a crush on a boy or something, that maybe she'd gotten a boyfriend and that was why she was missing class. Which, we found out from Ali the next time Melissa didn't show up, is the case. She's got her very first boyfriend. (Don't go thinking I'm picking on a little kid, here. Melissa is my age.)

Now, I'm not one of these girls who forgets her friends when she gets a boyfriend. I'm not one of these girls for whom everyone Not Boyfriend becomes a second class citizen, who forgets about her hobbies and would rather be doing nothing more than snogging Boyfriend, is always on the phone with him, counts the hours when he's away, suddenly thinks her girl friends are silly and frivolous, and divides her time in two sections: With Him or Without Him. In fact, in the past, I've been hurt by that. I haven't had oodles of boyfriends--I could count the serious ones on one hand--but no matter how much I thought I was in love, I was always still been a friend to my friends, so when a friend of mine didn't treat me the same way, I would tend to feel very hurt.

Well now I have to say, I hope to god this is the case with her. I hope she falls desperately, madly in love, becomes The Girlfriend and nothing more, spends all her waking moments either with him or thinking of him, and completely forgets Hula. There is hope yet.

(Also FTR, I'm not the one who came up with "Bitchface," either. That would be Tricia, and it was soon adopted by some of the people at work, who had seen Melissa during [and after] the performance we did two summers ago, and asked me who was the chick with the plastic smile, looking like she had a coat-hanger in her mouth during all the dances, and looking like she'd sucked on a lemon whenever she wasn't onstage. My good friend Tricia was backstage after the show that night, and took an immediate dislike to Melissa, who was in a frenzy as she ordered everyone around to stop what they were doing and look for her pu'ili sticks, which she had misplaced, incidentally--in fact she nicked my pu'ili sticks during the show because she couldn't find hers. Since then, on Fridays at work I'd usually be whining about how I had to see Melissa in class the next day. It wasn't long before everyone knew the story, and it was Tricia who one day asked me, "Do you have to see Bitchface tomorrow?" And "Bitchface" just stuck.)