Congrats on surviving through the end of the world. I imagine that since it's only 11:45pm, I still have 15 nail-biting minutes to get through, but I'm feeling pretty confident that my 10 year old potato pearls will yet again fail to see the light of day.
In celebration of the possibility of dying, a well-connected friend and her daughter treated Emersen and I to Ballet Arizona's Nutcracker. Who else would I want to spend my last night of human existence with than my friend and 2000 strangers? We can all fight over gum and linty Werther's originals when we hear the asteroids starting to land.
I LOVED it. The ballet, not the Apocalypse Emersen liked it. Not enough to deserve an underline, but enough that she would be willing to see it again next year ("why does the plum girl dance so long?").
It was the Nutcracker on crack (ha!) i.e. the mice threw in some Thriller moves and Mother Ginger was most definitely watching Gangum Style on his phone while waiting in the wings. Mr. Sexy Lady would have been proud. No joke.
Speaking of Nutcrackers, one of my most favorite family members brought this little nugget to a white elephant party.
Hillary-arious.
Made that one up myself.
Could you eat any nuts that came from between those legs? I can't.
Made that one up myself.
Could you eat any nuts that came from between those legs? I can't.
2 comments:
You are "hillary-arious", J.
The Nutcracker is pretty good, it's about time I take Tasha. We've had a few years off here since Kyra and I saw several versions throughout the valley.
I love the podcasts available on this site.
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