Just Dance

So I was vacuuming the floor around Leo's cage today, and couldn't help wondering what would happen if I...well, just sucked him in with the cleaning tube extension. That would take care of my problem--and no mess!

I really have to start thinking about something else. I'm starting to worry about me and my murderous intentions on this pathetic creature. Hmm.

Well, on a completely different note, Wednesday was my brother's birthday. A group of us went to a Moroccan restaurant in Hollywood. Some of us got there on time, but there were a few who did not, and the cowgirl and I were two of these. In our defense, we took a wrong turn. Or two or three. And then we hit just about every red light along Sunset Blvd., and believe me, there are not a few of these.

But we made it eventually, and pulled up to the restaurant only half an hour after we were supposed to be there. That's still fashionably late, isn't it?

Then we almost ran over the poor valet as we pulled up to the curb. "Oops sorry for nearly killing you. Um, would you park our car please? Thanks." Well, at least he was nice about it.

The restaurant was pretty cool. They have a real live belly-dancer, and she is good at what she does. And while I am referring primarily to her dancing, I also meant the way she managed to strike terror into the heart of the guys at our table. The reason they were scared was because she had a custom of draping her gauzy stole over a man and that meant he had to get up and dance with her. We always knew when the bellydancer was making her rounds because the dim light would suddenly brighten and glow red, and the screechy Middle Eastern music would increase exponentially in volume until you had to yell at the person next to you to be heard in conversation. Then the bellydancer would come sweeping sensually into the room, and I'd watch as grown men tried make themselves invisible by hiding under their napkins so that she wouldn't notice them and make them dance with her.

While this amused me to no end, I actually felt pretty sympathetic to the guys. One time the bellydancer, apparently deciding that she'd traumatized the men enough, threw her stole at me and I absolutely froze in petrifaction (is that a word?). I am not the world's best dancer. There is a possibility that I might be the worst. I like to dance if there are other people around because then at least they will distract some of the attention away from me. But get up there by myself with a woman who is TRAINED to dance? I'll tell you what, that would be a great Fear Factor challenge for me, and I'd probably rather eat bugs or worms or something, instead of getting up ALONE in front of my friends and pretending like I have any moves at all. Good Lord, I am blushing just thinking about it. Pass the cockroaches, please!

(However, I did dance while vacuuming the house today, because I was listening to some great music on my iPod--good Apple girl that I am--but there was no one around to see, so it was ok.)

I remember one time in New Zealand, a friend of mine somehow got me to dance with her wildly all around the kitchen of the house where we were staying...to this day, I don't know how she got me over myself. But I remember that it was actually a lot of fun.

Not too long ago, I was at Borders bookstore listening to some live music and watching a little girl get her little groove on. She was having a blast, you could tell. No one could help smiling who saw her, but she obviously wasn't dancing for anybody else. She was dancing because she liked the music and she liked the movement, and no one could get her to stop.

I wonder if that picture of total abandonment to joy is what Jesus was referring to when He said no one could enter the kingdom of God unless they became like little children. Not because they would be denied entrance, but because they just wouldn't recognize it if they saw it. Whereas I think children have an instinctive understanding that, where joy, laughter, love, and dancing abound, the kingdom of God is not far away.

Dance your hearts out, kids. It can't hurt. And it just might help.