This weekend I got up on stage. And danced. At 39. In front of hundreds of people.
Yeah, I did that.
In full make up and Victorian dress.
And it was SO much fun!
The dress? Not so much fun. It was purple and stripey and added at least 40 pounds. It made me sweat like a 'whore in church' as the saying goes. I thought I looked OK, then I saw a picture of me and I said, out loud and in front of children, "Holy Hell!"
Yeah, it was that bad.
But the being on stage and pretending to be at a fancy party in the opening scene of The Nutcracker, being all elegant (snort) and dancing? So fun. I had a veteran 'husband' who totally knew what he was doing. He was all swooshy with his arms and knew when to walk and point at the tree so then I knew as well.
But the dress? Holy Hell!
The girls were in The Nutcracker as well. They had a blast, and were beyond cute. Sarah was the littlest angel and so got to give flowers to 'her' Sugar Plum Fairy. The crowd ate it up. It made me cry.
But my dress? O.M.G
I got to watch professional dancers leap and pirouette in beautiful costumes. See amazingly well defined male legs in amazingly tight tights. I got to see my favorite dancer, Ryan, come back from college and perform.
Want to see the dress? You'll die.
Also, since I am SO incredibly pale I had to wear an incredible amount of blush so I wasn't a white orb floating on stage. Hence the Drag Queen look. My girls? Adorable. Take a look.
My Make up:
[caption id="attachment_1710" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Doesn't even do it justice."][/caption]