A hazy Pinot fog filled with tutus and toe shoes

Last night after work my boss and I went out for Thai and then to a ballet at the Wang. Over way too much curry and (maybe too much) wine, we celebrated the near-end of yet another academic year. A little before seven we stumbled out into the warm night air and across the street to the theatre. The ballet was amazing. The dancers' feet seemed like instruments of music, as if the performance was just a physical representation of the sounds wafting up from the pit. You can get lost in a good ballet. It's like having an intricate dream while you're still awake. It's tiptoes in a world full of loud, clomping footsteps. Gentle beauty that doesn't stun, but mesmerizes.