Arabian Nights at the Ballet

Yesterday I had the worst headache in my long and established history of headaches. I hadn't eaten for a day and a half (I get busy and tend to forget) and by the time I had finished Senior Seminar and was making my way up Glenmont to the Whetstone library my brain was throbbing. I hung out at the library did some math, did some walkabout research and still had another hour to kill so I ordered a couple of books on cycling from the library. I tried to read but everything was so painful. Then I walked back up to school to sit in on the Math Study Hall sixth period, something I might begin making a habit, seeing as I need help with math all the time.
I called my mom to pick me up from the bus stop because I had already spent an hour and a half walking back and forth between the library and school and was not about to walk the 11 blocks it takes to walk home from my school bus stop. We went to get something to eat at COSI. I went to sleep only to be woken up an hour later because I had to watch Cole perform in Aladdin. I then re-dressed, trading sneakers for heels, my polo for a sweater and my black pea coat for a corduroy blazer (added some pearls). I stumbled into the car and we made our way to the capital theatre with 15 minutes to spare.
At the performance (it was put on by BalletMet Columbus) we had the farthest most row in the Mezzanine, which still afforded us a surprisingly good view. Cole was a the lead street urchin, he was soo cute, in his rags and dirt smugged face trying to pick peoples pockets. Before the performance because it was intended for children the cast wandered the audience engaging them in their character. I can just imagine it; Cole dressed as a pickpocket pretending to steal someones purse, that someone not realizing it's an act, smacking Cole across the face before snatching back their belongings; audience involvement has trouble written all over it. When the ballet finally started, my mom complained that the music the dancers were dancing to wasn't authentic Arabian music. She thought that if it had been than maybe the show might have seemed more authentic. I told her that "Yeah it would also be nice if the whole cast was Arabic and weren't from Upper Arlington and various other Ohio suburbs but hat isn't being rational." Can you even dance ballet to Arabic music?, I mean sure you can dance to Arabic music but not ballet. By the time Aladdin and the Princes danced their 5th dance together I leaned over to my mom and asked "Do you think that maybe they might be into each other or something?". Other comments included "Oh my God is this ever going to end?", and "Damn it! I actually thought he was going to rape her" (at this point a two year old sitting on the floor looked up at me). All in all the Princess was really dumb. Aladdin gave her a lamp to guard and she went over and traded it for a new lamp. She wasn't even that pretty, she had absolutely nothing going for her but her status. What kind of message are we sending to our youth? That said by the time intermission rolled around I was ready to leave.
At the end of the performance when Cole finally emerged from the dressing rooms (who takes 20 minutes to change?) he was down trodden. Last time he performed it was in the Nutcracker playing Fritz and my grandparents and my aunt and uncle came down from New York to see him. One of my aunts missed it and made some off handed comment about maybe coming down to see Aladdin; as a result Cole has been certain (no matter now many times we tell him otherwise) that Aunt Velletta and our cousins were coming down to see Aladdin, and that it was supposed to be a surprise but clever him had figured it out. My aunt is not coming down to Ohio, she's a very worrisome person and likes everything to be in order, the disorganization of traveling spur of the moment would surely kill her if not trigger an anxiety attack. I told Cole this but he insists that "Well of course you wouldn't tell me, it's supposed to be a surprise." Walking out of the dressing rooms he expected to see a throng of extended family waiting to congratulate him on his great performance but instead he met us; my mother grinning with pride me looking annoyed and poorly dressed. His initial steps out of the dressing room were the tentative tip toe steps that he does when he's proud of himself but doesn't want to show it, he also had a bashful kind of expression on his face; but upon seeing us his face fell and his posture slouched, his steps becoming heavy. It was hilarious and well worth sitting through that awful (ly long) ballet.

Well, Until Next time...