It used to be that what greeted me in the morning was a hamster. Well, a half-dead hamster. Zeke lived to be almost two years old. And for a dwarf hamster, that's saying something. Now it is no longer a balding, mostly-blind, really-needs-a-long-rest-if-you-know-what-I-mean rodent that starts my day, but a visit down to the bunny room - where I often find that my husband has lost the daily battle with the door that separates rabbit from hay. Theo (Short for Theophilius. Thank you Christopher Moore.) is the newest addition to our household, and is probably the best practice for a child that we've had so far. Except this child likes to chew. We like to think that from Theo's perspective he's actually making our books and game boxes and wires more aesthetically pleasing, while at the same time testing them for poison. So far we have learned that, no, the carpet, our bachelor's degrees, the back of the television and a basement wall are all safe to eat. Take that, would-be assassins!
While Theo continues holding down the fort, I have begun venturing a bit further out of the house and my comfort zone. I finally got pressured into dancing at one of the local hookah cafes. Which, if you are a belly dancer, is the worst way to start anything. I was so stressed about my first performance - about picking the right songs, about making sure my costume fit, about not getting caught in my veil - that I almost hated my first night. I actually did get caught in my veil, but my irrational fear of hanging myself as the veil became snagged on a fast-moving ceiling fan while the audience booed in disgust did not come to pass. I did end up spending the first two nights before the performance crying due to stress levels. I also learned that altering a costume while watching "Casino Royal" is not a good combinations. Ogling a half-dressed Daniel Craig meant that I sewed one of the straps on backwards. Twice. Same strap. Thank you, Mr. Craig, for being my eye candy, but you hampered my ability to be eye candy for others. The second performance truly helped, though. I have my third one coming up next month and I think I'll finally hit the point where I'm comfortable enough with the venue that I'll actually have fun this time. Plus, I get to go shopping for shiny things almost all the time. This is both a waste and a perfect use of money.
I'm not sure if this is an entry that means I'm writing on a regular basis again or not. I would like to get back in the habit, but I'm an optimistic realist (if a person can be both). Somewhere between neutral and chaotic good. Now I just have to figure out where Theo lies. How do you figure out a bunny's alignment when his primary motivation is pellets and treats?