Tonight we are going to the ballet. (Note: Ballet must be pronounced ‘BAL-ay’, emphasis on the first syllable, for maximum pretension. In addition to being fun, this dash of class will also serve to counteract the fact that we will be taking to the ballet the most AWESOME binoculars ever, purchased by the Lovely Miss Q at The Goodwill. They have a FLASHLIGHT attached to them. For 99 cents people. We will be in the balcony, as that is the only place they allow people who bring childrens’ binoculars to sit. Wave if you see us!)
It will be my inaugural viewing of The Nutcracker, complete with a set designed by Maurice Sendak, the dude that wrote Where the Wild Things Are. I have read about The Nutcracker, but mostly in a series of books (that are now out of print, WTF?) called the Bad News Ballet. I loved the hell out of these books. I was that little girl who constantly begs her mom for ballet lessons. Thanks to her I dodged that bullet. I now realize that the reason they show little girls the pink tutus early on is to distract them from the fact that ballet is an activity where you are forced to wear uncomfortable shoes while NOT BEING ALLOWED TO EAT. I’d rather vote republican. I’m more than happy to purchase tickets and watch the fruits of other people’s labor though. Hmm. Does that make me a republican? Oh well man. Someone pass me a tax cut, mama needs a new dress to wear to the Ballet.