Tag Archives: ballet

Big Girls Do Cry…

Especially when they are dressed up sitting in Atlanta traffic making them ridiculously late for the ballet. The ballet they waited months for. The ballet of one of the most treasured love stories of all time. Yup…big girls certainly cry.

They cry behind the wheel of their mini van, make up and all crawling thru the packed interstate on a Saturday afternoon of no particular significance. They cry at the idea of a plan not working even after they rearranged it to begin with. They cry at the mere thought of slipping out of their dress clothes, washing off their make up, rotting on the couch in front of a plethora of Redbox cases for yet another weekend. Yea….big girls cry.

But then they put on their big girl Spanx and have a mediocre carb laden lunch/dinner in a restaurant they have been to a million times (that they can’t quite afford) drowning out the buzz of stranger conversation with D’angelo blaring in their ears.

Things don’t work for a myriad of reasons. We aren’t God so quite honestly there is no way to tell why they don’t. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to be at the ballet. Or perhaps I wasn’t meant to be in the area. Maybe I was meant to be sitting alone in a restaurant full of people guzzling a long island ice tea, writing & listening to music. Maybe in this whole messed up day (gross thick black hair in salad included) there is a lesson. Maybe the lesson is to not let things like Life get to you when Life doesn’t necessarily go your way. Or maybe it’s just a lesson in crying. Everybody needs a good, frustrated cry every now and then….even big girls.

~SM

The Great Ballet Debate

This morning, while watching the news, a commercial came on for the Atlanta Ballet Nutcracker. The Boy asked what it was.

“It’s the Nutcracker, son. The ballet.”

“Oh. Is that the thing you are making us go see in New York?”

“Sorta, only it’s the Rockettes…a little more exciting.”

“Ok. Good. Cuz I’m not going to see some people dressed in stupid tights, dancing around.”

For the next 15 minutes, we debated me making him go to the ballet at some point in his life and him definitely not going. “Son! You have to experience everything in life, whether you like it or not. You go to the ballet once and check it off your list. If you don’t like it, don’t go again.” According to him, he won’t go again because he won’t be going the first time. *exasperated sigh*

Understanding that the world is ever shrinking (thanks internet), it is imperative for kids today to experience something outside of the everyday mundane crap collection of…well…crap. Various foods, spices, activities, places, people, events and, yes, even ballets. When I was his age, I was reading Poe and Shakespeare just because. I was going to the symphony alone and listening to Beethoven for entertainment. I have not seen the world yet, nor have I tasted every food there is to taste but that doesn’t mean I am not open to it (well…except for eating bugs). All I am asking is for my children to do the same.

I understand the ballet probably is not his first choice for entertainment, but there is so much more to life outside of ESPN and Call of Duty and NBA 2k whatever. Some of the most brilliant, creative minds have been touched by something outside of their norm. The Girl is easy going. She will try anything once. But him? Not so much. I did get him to try cross stitch, which was awesome. It lasted all of 15 minutes, but he tried it. I am dragging him to see the Rockettes (kicking and screaming) but he will have experienced it. By accident I got him to watch How To Get Away With Murder–certainly not something to add to his culture toolbox, however it is outside of his box. And I am still confused on how he ended up with an affection for The Gap Band and Charlie Wilson, but I will gladly take it.

We ended the ballet debate with him saying he did not want to see men dancing around in dresses and tights to “that boring music” and putting his size 11 down on the matter. I allowed him to assert his almost 14 year old manhood, wisely picking my battle, and putting my hands up, conceding….today…but there is always a tomorrow and he will be seated next to me, watching men in tights by surrender or by force.

~SM

Valentine’s Day (Where For Art Thou [My] Romeo?)

Valentine’s Day. Completely and totally overrated if you ask me. It is basically men running around buying gifts trying to make up for 364 days of smelly farts, missed timing, and general ass clown guy stuff. Women stand at the ready waiting for said gifts and gushes of Hallmark provoked affection. I hate Valentine’s Day (Grinch style) which is why this year (technically next year since this is December), I plan on joining in the fray (gotta get passed what you abhor, right).  What do they say? If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em? Yea. That. Only I plan on doing it better. I am celebrating alone.

When you go through a break up, the holidays are almost an automatic thought. What about Christmas? What about the New Year? What about….Valentine’s Day?! I will be all alone. No flowers (but he didn’t give them to you anyway), no cards (uh….ok), no presents (yea…another piece of jewelry you didn’t ask for), no dates (dinner and a movie…again)….just………loneliness (cue flat line for death by lonely). I cannot tell a lie, I totally had all of those thoughts, and when I verbalized them to a friend she told me she loved Valentine’s day. “I love on myself extra special that day. I don’t have to have someone else to love–loving me is enough.” Suddenly, finding Romeo didn’t seem so pressing….but I found him anyway.

This Valentine’s Day I will be spending a beautiful evening with Romeo…and Juliet….and a few hundred people. I will be at the ballet–alone and perfectly content with the company.  For a couple of years now I have watched The Atlanta Ballet’s Romeo & Juliet production sell out because I didn’t want to go alone, but this go ’round I refused to be victim to stupidity.

Love is not (and should not) be reserved for February 14th. Duh. We know this. However, it generally is and, because I have entered into a new relationship with myself, I want to treat me the way I feel I should be treated. And a romantic evening, dressed up, enjoying an expensive dinner at a restaurant with cloth napkins to celebrate the commercially decided day of love seems like as good a place as any to start. Oh Romeo. Romeo. Where for art thou [my] Romeo? For starters, he will be on stage dancing in pastel tights purely for my enjoyment. Now after the tights come off…well…that’s a completely different story 😉

~SM