Past the point of no return

This story will not do the actual event justice, it won’t even come close.

So there I was, living in South Africa, when someone decided to turn twenty-one, have a Phantom of the Opera themed party, and invite me. This made me happy.

Turning twenty-one is a big deal here. Unlike back home where the only things that really change in life is the ability to gamble and drink legally (unless you’re a me, then twenty-one means the beginning ridicule for not eternally attaching myself to another person and procreating…but that’s another story) here you get a key. I’m probably going to mess up the explanation of this tradition, and my friends from here can mock me if I do, but my understanding is that you’re old enough to start your own life and so you get a key to represent the “key to your life” or something more poetic than that. I think it’s a charming concept. I may choose to implement it in my future. For those of you who haven’t heard, or guessed, I am going to throw all my favorite traditions together in a hodge-podge and create my own culture. It’s going to be an exciting.

Okay, now that I’ve gone on a few bunny trails, let me tell you about this party. The birthday girl, Kaleela, has some serious musical talent. Coincidentally, so does her boyfriend Travis. So they dressed as Christine and the Phantom and things got theatrical. We were privileged with live performances of Music of the Night, Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again, and That’s All I Ask of You. Granted a case of the giggles erupted during the That’s All I Ask of You and eventually the audience joined in, personally I think it added a nice touch to the evening.

Then it was time for everyone else to show off a little “talent” with some Phantom based skits. Just keep in mind that I’ve said before I’m not a performer. My group was assigned the song Think of Me and we had to put together a skit based around that. We decided to just let the song play while we faced away from the audience and did a Dream Girls-esque/miming routine. Moves included the make-out fake-out, hula waves, and head banging. Be my guest, listen to the words and put all of that together.

I haven’t even mentioned yet, the place was dressed up to the nines. It looked like we had seriously stepped into the opera populaire. And of course what is a red, black, and white color scheme without chocolate? Lots and lots and lots of chocolate. Fudge, chocolate fountain, chocolate squares, chocolate mousse, chocolate cookies…basically heaven in culinary form.

I’m a sucker for theme parties. So much so that when my mom was asking what I wanted as going away gifts before moving to college I asked for costumes and party store trinkets. Yep, I’m that cool. Anyway, it was a fantastic evening. And now I kind of want to steal all of these wonderful ideas and throw a party of my own…except for the part where I don’t sing or act.

New idea, how about I have a tutu party for my 22^nd. Get it? 22, 2-2, tutu. Just call me Ms. Wordplay, hook me up with Jason Mraz, and we can forget this whole awkward sentence ever happened.