When one spends, uh... 6 hours over the course of weekend in a bellydance workshop...
the glutes REALLY start to hurt.
And we won't even talk about my shoulders.
My knee didn't start hurting until Sunday night when I smacked it on the pew at the Ryman because Mr. 6' tall wouldn't move so I could get back to my seat after I went to the bathroom. OK, I know the space between rows is very narrow but would have killed you to swing your legs out of the way so I don't have to step over and straddle your lap? Is this something your significant other, who is sitting right there!, approves of? Thank goodness I wasn't wearing a skirt.
