Nutcracker is officially in full swing here at FBP. The snowflakes are flying, the flowers are waltzing, and Drosselmyer’s cape is swirling around the studio leaving little magic tricks and
heaps of dust glitter in its winding path. I got a jump on my annual pre-Nutcracker CVS splurge, replenishing my dwindling stock of false eyelashes and blonde tinted bobby pins for the big weekend. Just a few more pointe shoes to break in and I’m ready to hit the stage…
But all I want to do is sleep. And ice my feet. Under a giant blanket with hot chocolate and ibuprofen. Forever.
I can always feel the week before Nutcracker’s opening in my sore body and raw toes. To avoid the disastrous pre-Nut blues, the whole company is dreaming of family style breakfasts and naptimes and gingerbread-house-making schedules instead of run-throughs and corps cleaning. Just one more week until opening night. Counting. Down.