i carried a watermelon

along with the obvious, that's my favorite line in "dirty dancing."

it was 1987. i was all of sixteen years old and had just moved far, far away from my friends and boyfriend (who my mom couldn't stand). it was the beginning of my rebellious teenage years, and the romantic in me was completely entranced with this movie and its storyline. i totally pictured myself as "baby" and the ex as "johnny." heh. despite the fact that our relationship didn't necessarily have the fairytale happy ending, "dirty dancing" is still one of my all-time favorite movies. you know, the kind i'll stop to watch no matter how many times i've seen it or what point it's at, or the kind i can recite the lines to along with the characters. i know you've got a list of movies like that!

day 2 of the teen's birthday princess weekend was capped off with the evening performance of "dirty dancing" on stage at the awesome pantages theatre in hollywood. we've been there several times before, to see "cats" (awful, three hours of my life i'll never get back) and "wicked" (loved. so. much.). and, not that it really matters because i'm a terrible photographer anyway, but these pictures are taken with the shitty point-and-shoot.

after we both went through about eleventy-seven outfit changes, we hopped in the prius and were on our way. our tickets were waiting for us at will call, courtesy of goldstar, and i knew the line could get long if we waited too long. it was a fairly easy drive, and after circling the theater block a couple of times in search of parking, i gave in and spent yet another $10. i hate paying for parking. you find a spot, lock it, walk away, cough up the cash, and hope it's still as you left it when you get back. so dumb.

i was pretty excited to see that there were only two people in line ahead of us at the will call desk. and it was super easy - i walked up, flashed my ID, the girl glanced at it and turned to face the shelf behind her where envelopes of tickets were organized alphabetically, and handed me two. easy peasy.

we had some time to kill, so we walked out onto hollywood boulevard to see if there was anything worth doing/seeing/munching on. i contemplated heading off to find this:

although this place is ridiculously overpriced and completely pretentious, i got a hankering for sushi at the sight of it anyway.

i always consider this building to be a classic hollywood icon, right up there with the "hollywood" sign.

we were super amused at the sight of this hoopdie, blaring loud music out of the open windows.

i always think it's sad that the intersection of hollywood and vine, so famous and historic, ain't really shit anymore.

finding nothing particularly exciting, we strolled to the corner and then decided to turn back and see if there were any good snacks inside. and as we approached the entrance, i caught a gander of the will call line, and by then it had grown so long that it went out onto hollywood boulevard. inside, i paused to take this:

and then we got in line so the teen could buy herself a souvenir tee.

we picked up a couple of snacks and a shirley temple for the teen, in this souvenir cup:

we took note of the "no photography inside" sign posted at the doors to the theater, and stopped to take a couple of quick shots.

as we made our way to our seats, we were surprised to find that we were fairly close to the stage, albeit way to the left. in fact, we were literally the last ones in the aisle, next to the wall. i didn't care, though. they were free tickets, and we still had a great view of the show.

despite the sheer cheesiness of it all, the teen and i thoroughly enjoyed it. aren't most musicals super cheese whiz anyway? but i love 'em. most of the time. and i am a royal dork, because i totally recognized the actor playing dr. houseman as the mayor of port charles on "general hospital." yay!

and then, partway through act II, it happened.

EARTHQUAAAAAAAAKE! i looked above us to see if we were in any danger of falling equipment or anything:

i felt the floor shudder and sway, and then there was an audible "ooooh" from the audience. the actors onstage paused for JUST a moment before picking up right where they left off. the teen watched as the the props and screens onstage swayed a bit, looked at me with terrified eyes, and then a bunch of folks (obviously locals) went "shhhhhhh!" hahaha! talk about "the show must go on."

i glanced back and saw a whole grip o'people get up and bounce outta there (psh, tourists), and then i held the teen's hand and told her everything was okay. it had lasted for what seemed like forever, and i kept thinking of how old the theatre was. but then i kind of just shrugged my shoulders, consoled the teen silently, and texted the hub. the quake was over, and i didn't want to miss the end of the show (even though it wasn't as though i didn't know what was going to happen). the teen relaxed after a while, and we sat there and finished it out until the very last bow.

we made our way out of the theatre, got into the car easily, and before we knew it, we were on the freeway and headed home. of course, we were starving, but it was a school night and i wanted to get the teen home to relax and get a good night's rest after the excitement of the weekend. so, a couple of exits before ours, i pulled off and went through the drive-thru for the dinner of champions:

ah, in-n-out. how i love you. and yes, the teen got a grilled cheese with veggies. she dug it.

on the way home, i asked her if she'd enjoyed her weekend, despite the fact that it didn't go exactly as originally planned. i told her that i knew i'd monopolized quite a bit of her time, and that she'd probably wished she'd had more time to hang with her friends. but she said that she'd had a good time with me - and that she liked hanging out with me. i guess i was kind of fishing for it, but i didn't feel like she was saying it to placate me at all. i really think she does still dig hanging out with her old ass mom, and i can't say enough about how much i cherish our relationship. we have so much fun together, with silly inside jokes and glances that speak volumes. i hope and pray every single day that it never changes, and that when the bean gets to be her age, i won't be too crusty and crotchety for her to want to chill with me like this, too. oh, how i love my girls.

and that, dear readers, is how we ended the teen's 14th birthday extravaganza. hmm. wonder what next year will bring?