The Horror

I am not a big fan of musicals.  I used to love them when I was a kid, but somewhere along the way the thought of someone spontaneously bursting into song began to make my skin crawl.  So, when the Southerner asked me if I’d be interested in attending a showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show last weekend, I responded by saying that I would rather pluck out each of my arm hairs with tiny tweezers (I have seriously hairy arms, people).  However, after explaining that we would get to wear costumes (Wigs! I love wigs!) AND promising to take me to dinner at my favorite restaurant, I reluctantly agreed to go.

I’m so glad I did.  This was such a fun experience.  I highly recommend it if you’ve never been.  You don’t even have to watch the movie, and you get to dance and throw things at other people in the theater. Not to mention that wandering around Wellington in costume is an interesting experience in and of itself.  This isn’t New Orleans- where you can walk around naked and no one will bat an eye.  We were actually turned away from several bars in downtown Wellington after the movie for not being “appropriately attired.”  Weird.  They were probably worried their clients would pass out from our sexiness.


Two of my favorite people in Wellington

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