Ballet! YAAAAY! Kermit flail!
For the past several years I have attempted to get my husband interested enough to go to a ballet performance with me. Our wedding anniversary and my birthday are right at the start of the ballet season, so there are always great shows going on that I would love to see (you know, for the occasion). But, my husband, bless his soul, while he's a wonderful man and happy to attend live musical performances and even some of the plays I work on, is not a dance man. He wasn't really raised with it and to a certain extent it's an acquired taste. So, while he is totally willing to attend the ballet with me he views it as taking one for the team, if you see what I mean. He imagines his boy parts will fall off as soon as the curtain goes up or something. I tell him (repeatedly!) that ballet dudes are super athletic stud-muffins who get to feel up the girl dancers like constantly, but OH NO it's still too girly for him (thank god he isn't a sports guy. I am willing to take almost anything in a man provided he doesn't watch sports).
But this year I decided TO HECK WITH IT and so I bought tickets for my mom and a girlfriend and we went to see Romeo and Juliet! YAAAAAY! Awesome!
I had a thoroughly enjoyable time. I probably haven't seen a live ballet for ten or eleven years, at least. Either they've put down some new and fascinating material on the stage or modern pointe shoes are SO much more quiet than they were 11 years ago. Squeaking and thumping was a constant component of the ballets I saw in my youth (eh, sonny!) and those gals in their pretty pale peachy Freeds were really super quiet. I know, because I got front row seats, yo. The better to appreciate the panting and sweating of the performers, right? Right.
Another cool thing: when I was ... maybe 11 or 12? One of the principal dancers with this company was a ballerina that I was SO in love with, named Nina Baratova. I got to see her dance the Sugar Plum Fairy, and it was totally the highlight of my year. She retired quite a while back but today we got to see her as a guest artist dancing Lady Capulet. I recognized her face on stage before I read the program, and that kind of amazes me. I have a miserable memory for names and faces.
Anyway, a lovely time was had by all, I tried not to fixate on the underarms of that purple dress that was obviously made with a dye that was no match for ballerina sweat, and I've had Pretty Piece of Flesh stuck in my head all evening. It's from the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack, almost the entirety of which (in fact, I hardly ever played this song, I didn't care for it) I used to listen to on infinite loop when I was in highschool, and that probably tells you exactly how old I am. Oddly enough, I didn't watch the movie all that much. But I still have that album on my iPod.
PS: It must be hard to die with your feet pointed so prettily. Twice.
PPS: Forget boys, I am going to the ballet with my girlfriends from now on.
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