Night with the Nutcracker

I smiled to myself as my new dress fell down to my feet in my dorm room. I wore a long red velvet slip dress with a scoop neckline that hugged my waist before cascading down my legs with a slit on the left side. My friend and I were giggling to ourselves at Tatte's Bakery as we awaited an appropriate time to arrive at the theater and check in with our vaccination cards.

I've never been to the ballet before so that night I was as foreign to the theater as Clara was to the Land of Snow. I was so in awe at the architect that the wait to be seated felt more like a night at the museum. After taking pictures in front of the balcony with what felt like a million chandeliers decorating my background, we sat in our seats with a perfect view. We were in the mezzanine second row on the right and I couldn't believe the perfect view I had. I was able to experience everything from the smiles that lit up the dancers faces to the sound of their pointe shoes hitting the floor if the music was just quiet enough.

As we awaited for the lights to dim, I people-watched as semi-formal dresses and suit jackets waltzed by me. I felt like I was in a whole new universe that night, away from college dorm sweats and puffer jackets to keep me warm on my commute to the mailroom. I was simply a girl at the ballet in a dress that made me feel like Carrie Bradshaw.

Once the lights began to dim and I turned my phone on silent, I caught myself holding my breath in. Soon enough, the music was nothing a whisper in my ears once I found myself unable to blink as I stared down at the stage. Everything looked like magic. The way the dancers gracefully found their way back to the ground like the music controlled gravity and how the spotlights shone sparkles around the dust on the stage in certain angles that highlighted the Sugar Plum Fairy even more.

There was one dance sequence that I can't seem to shake out of my head: The Waltz of the Snowflakes. There are certain moments when you're watching a movie where you sit and think 'No way could this happen in real life. It looks too perfect.' Everything felt like a magic trick, like an illusion right in front of my eyes that'd be gone if I blinked too fast. I felt as if I was Clara transported to a land of make believe that almost made me believe.

Watching this sequence in front of my eyes left me slowly leaning towards the stage in my seat until I could almost smell the perfume of the lady in front of me and had to retreat. I wanted a better view of the unimaginably euphoric way every dancer's movements handstitched itself into the composition and sewed up what I can only describe as a performance of enchantment. A world of ever-falling snow that followed the pace at which the dancers moved. Where their talents resembled the delicacy and fluency of a falling snowflake. I wanted to be as close to the stage as possible, almost like I couldn't believe what was in front me so I needed to see it as close as my eyes would let me. I needed to see the way the white skirts danced in the air as snow fell to decorate the floor like a winter wonderland. I must admit, I caught myself more than once staring at the figures carved into the floor by the dancing snowflakes.

I couldn't have imagined a better way to start my December and get into the holiday spirit. I wasn't only in awe of the performance that night but also myself. I always dreamed of going to the ballet and dressing up in a fancy dress to sit in the red chairs. Some dreams you want so badly that you almost forget you want it. It holds your heart so strongly that it just slips away one day. On December 4th, I got to experience a dream that I forgot I even had but every moment from that night will live in my heart for the rest of my life.