Heh, I'm luckier than I know, despite my worries about this upcoming performance: at least nothing's caught on fire.
I was speaking this afternoon to another friend who is also dancing in this show, but in a different troupe.
She was sewing her costume yesterday(a much more complicated affair than my own)when she laid down her work and left the room where her sewing machine sits.
Distracted with other tasks in her house, she forgot about her sewing until she heard a whirr as her sewing machine started up by itself. And then she suddenly smelled a horrible electrical burning smell. She rushed through her house, following her nose back to her sewing machine which was busy gouting out tall flames.
She grabbed it and ran with it, throwing it out her front door onto the sidewalk where it died a dismal short-circuiting death.
"It was rather unnerving...", she told me. I should say!
(I remember once I put a stick of incense in a frog-shaped wicker planter and left it. The peat moss in the planter smouldered and caught fire (there's a safety tip, boys and girls... the Irish in me should have realized peat moss burns) and soon nothing was left of my planter except the marbles of the planter frog's eyeballs and a horrid lingering smell. If I hadn't luckily left the thing sitting on top of the metal washing machine, it probably would have burned a whole lot more. I remember that unnerved feeling quite clearly.)
Susan's not sure what went wrong.It was certainly unsettling behaviour from a small, previously trustworthy appliance. Is it all part of an encompassing whammy: Curse of the Unprepared Belly-Dancers perhaps?
After I shared my own dancing woes (suddenly feeling they are less dramatic in nature),she told me that her group had chucked their planned second dance recently because it simply wasn't ready either. A distinct parallel to my own group's decision---to chuck or not to chuck?
I say again: at least nothing's on fire.