I've never been to McCaw Hall before. I "only" had the Opera House back in my day. :o) But let me tell you, it was gorgeous!
The building is a lovely glass homage to all things lovely. I felt like I had stepped back into a page from my dreams! The multiple floors were filled with dance afficianados dressed in their casual best, and their echoing conversations were heavily sprinkled with phrases such as, "season tickets", "member" and plenty of "who's-who-at-PNB" name dropping.
As we walked around, I noticed how my heels sank just enough into the delicious carpeting (even more so once we were heading inside toward our seats!). As we made our way to a kiosk that was laden with posters, DVD's, gift items (critter in a tutu, anyone?), and PNB calendars, I felt myself getting all dreamy-eyed and smiley (kinda like when I'm holding a new baby).
We were considering shelling out $12 for a Jewels poster for Abby (who was upset over not being able to go with--ahem!), when Dean mentioned to the cashier/volunteer that our daughter adored Lindsi Dec, who is the featured "Rubies" dancer on the poster. Ms. Dec is also one of the models for Vala Dancewear whose life-size portrait graces the large Vala tradeshow banner in the office.
So believe me; Abby KNOWS VERY WELL who she is, and therefore thinks she's the greatest dancer ever! (Hence, her extreme disappointment over not being able to attend.)
Anyway, the cashier thought for a moment and said, "You know what? Downstairs in the shop, she's got individual posterettes of each Jewel. They're $10, and..." leaning in, lowering her voice to a whisper, "They're signed by the dancer!"
*Insert bug-eyed shock here*
Hot diggity dog! Lead the way, my good woman! :o) As I picked my jaw up off the lush floor, the cashier graciously led the way downstairs to the larger gift shop where the precious item awaited.
(Later that night, we gave Abby her treat and oh...my...goodness! Her eyes were so bright and happy! I think she forgave us. Hee hee. Oh, and for the record, I was tempted to buy a pair of black yoga PNB pants, but for $40...? Uhh...no.)
Finally, at long last, the doors were opened and we were able to
We sat in the First Tier, which probably means nothing to you without the aid of the seating chart. But that's ok. Basically it means we weren't down in front where the Cha-Ching! seats are, but wouldn't be considered in the "nose bleed" section, either.
Dean, with his near perfect vision, could see the stage just fine, whereas I could tell there were dancers on stage and had a good idea of what they were wearing. However, don't ask me to make out faces or other physical details. :o)
Next to us sat two lovely ladies, who volunteer at PNB in exchange for free tickets (among other perks). The older of the two was also a season ticket holder. They had a lot of things to say about the sets, the costumes, the artistic director, Mr. Peter Boal (who was not there back in my day), etc. Very informative conversation, really. I couldn't have asked for better "neighbors" in that regard! (Well, if I had actually run into Rebecca--the dear who so kindly gave us the tickets, then that would've been fantastic. But I never did find her. Bummer.)
Soon the house lights were dimmed, and
As the rich notes from the orchestra pit swelled and filled the air, the dancers moved with supreme fluidity and beauty. Their artistry was complemented by their gorgeous costumes, with each Act's being more vibrant than the last.
One couldn't help but take note of the ballerina's beautiful, lithe figures; the kind that can only be achieved through years of dedication and hours of intense effort. The male dancers were also examples of physical perfection, each displaying--as Dean so eloquently put it--"rockin' rear ends". As in just-as-hard-as.
It was at that moment however, that the realization of what was--versus what is now--hit me like a sledge hammer to the forehead.
And that realization was this....
I will NEVER look like those dancers again. Ever. Not a million, billion, kajillion years!
Gone are the days when nothing jiggled--not my thighs, not my tush, not my triceps, not my gelatinous "had 3 kids" tummy.
Gone are the days when I tipped the scale at 97 lbs. (I'd be happy if I could hit 110 lbs with minimal effort!)
And that, my dear friends is incredibly depressing.
But anyway, back to the ballet.
The evening was perfect--longer than I'd anticipated, but perfect. I was so grateful to my Mom for watching the children for me at such a late hour.
I can't wait to take Abby to the ballet in the near future. I know she's going to love it.