Cinderella! Cinderella! Cinderella!

I won tickets to see Cinderella. And by I won tickets I mean Raven won tickets, which I think is basically the same thing. We're like an inseparable pair of hydrogen atoms. And together we went to see the live stage production of Cinderella. The classic story of a poor little girl abused by her wicked step mother.

Picture it. There I am, having come home from a hard night of partying. I'd gone to two frat parties, which is not as exciting as it sounds when I finally see my messages saying that we won the tickets.  

​Raven wrote a letter to her favorite professor and in return she was entered to win tickets. Together we won. All my single friends are jealous of our friendship to be honest.  

​The next day I got all dressed up. Decked up in my retro seventies pantsuit and a 4.5 inch gladiator wedges. My hair is fixed. I even managed to throw on some cologne. I looked beautiful and over exaggerated as usual with my flared and tapered white linen dress pants.  

Cinderella was played at the most prestigious theater in town. AND, I got to bond with some of my fellow college students. We all picked up our tickets together. Raven got there early and they needed a ride and I offered to give them a ride. I may or may not have freaked out parking, but it's fine because everyone already knows I'm a bitch. And, I apologized, which doesn't always happen.

We trip our way across the cobble stones and by we I do mean me. Wedges are not meant for city walking. Stilettos are. We get in and the woman hands us a program and tells us to “enjoy the ballet”.

​Excuse me. I've never seen a ballet, but raised in the heterosexual world I knew that as a male I was not supposed to enjoy this. I thought we were going to a musical and I'm not a musical person, but I enjoy going out and about to the theater.  

​We were three rows back. I thought I would hate the ballet. I'm sitting there, still expecting dialogue for some point, when Cinderella comes out. We have the wicked step sisters, who by far are the best part of the show, and the wicked step mother. By the time the first curtain draws a continuous stream of classical music was hammered home and not a single word was spoken.

Let me tell you, I followed the plot because I know what Cinderella is about. But, if I hadn't. No way in hell would I have followed that. It's impressive that they can tell a story through dance, but some sparse interspersed dialogue would be much appreciated.

Now one thing I do love about the ballet is that it's all ass and legs. Their bodies were amazing. Their running around on their tip toes and swinging people around.

The prince. Oh my god, let me tell you. His ass was perfect. It was pure muscle and you know he got some of that from his mother. There was plenty of bbc on the stage and you know damn well that those boys can hide those bulges if they want to.  

​Anyway, I say all of that to say I support the ballet. It's beautiful and magical. And, the next time your trying to help your wicked step daughters put a ballet slipper, keep your ass on that hope chest, so the servant girl can't get out and marry the prince. Amen.