My mother asked me if I would be interested in going to see the symphony/orchestra with her. I said yes, and decided Dustin would LOVE to come along too. This prompted my sister to want to go as well, and since she has ditched her “boyfriend” permanently, I also decided our good guy friend come along as my sister’s replacement and because I can comfortably make fart jokes and burp around him.
I decided to switch from my AC/DC t-shirt and put on a black dress shirt. I dug out some stiletto booties and squeezed my way into a black coat that fit me beautifully before I was pregnant. Tonight I was practically busting at the seams but fuck it, I didn’t have anything else to wear. I put on some earrings and out we went. I even felt a touch classy and cultured, going to the ORCHESTRA for christs sake. Ten minutes beforehand I was just eating a double cheeseburger in ratty old sweats (one without calories). And my mother assured me “It will be nice, it’s the Messiah, all Christmas songs and things.”
The part I didn’t realize was that it was Christmas songs from the Jurassic age, not “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Grandma got Run Over by a Reindeer” like I had hoped. And the singers sang in English but it could have been pig latin for all I knew. It was hot in the church, and my boots were too tight and it felt like my pinky toe was going to bust out at any second.
I loved it. I LOVE THE ORCHESTRA. There, I said it. I’d LOVE to go again!

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