I said yesterday that we had tickets for the opera. And we did.

So we got all dressed up. I wore a long satin skirt and a red glittery shirt with a leather jacket. R wore gray slacks, red shirt, and gray and red tie. We looked good.

We went out to eat at Dharma Cafe. R likes it a lot. I didn’t like it much. It’s mostly seafood. (Which I can’t stand.) I ordered the chicken caesar salad and all I could taste was pepper. But I wasn’t upset. Try something new. You don’t have to like it.

Then we went to the opera. We got lost from the parking garage, walked around a lot, and still got to the Wortham Center too early to go into our seats. So we hung around the sale racks. I found a gorgeous leather shawl for a measly $425. (I didn’t buy it. Do you know how long it takes me to save $400? Four months of not spending anything.)

Eventually we take the elevator up to the sixth floor, where our seats are. And, when we get inside, I freak.

There are steep stairs and you can see to the next floor, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next. I stepped away from the stairs. R was very sweet. Came over, put his arm around me. “Are you okay? You can do this.” He goes down the stairs in front of me, so I can’t see anything. I’m hanging onto the railings for dear life and they’re not contiguous, so I’m panicking a bit whenever I have to let go.

Finally we make it to our seats. I sit down, my jacket’s off. I’m in short sleeves, shivering, but hot. My skin is flushed. I feel to the touch like I have a fever. (Since my temp is normally- with the help of thyroid pills- 97.6, that’s amazing.) I sit down and hold onto my husband’s hand. I can look sideways out and at the balconies below us, but not straight down, which is where the opera is going to be. At about 1o minutes till start I tell R I cannot do it.

We get up and walk out. He walks behind me this time and I only look at the next step up.

We get outside and I think I’m going to throw up. Thankfully there is a bathroom close and we go there. I run cold water over my hands for a few minutes. (Don’t want to ruin my makeup!) I’m feeling better, but not good.

We leave, go to our car, and drive for 30 minutes before I am feeling like myself again. Scary, that.

We planned on going to Steak and Ale for some French Silk pie, a personal tradition. But there’s a wait at 8 pm on Saturday night. We went to Chili’s, but there are no parking spaces for quite a ways, and we saw two of our four pastors in the parking lot with the police.

So we go home, make popcorn, and watch Red Dwarf, season VII, which R got on Netflix. (Great service, btw.)

We got to spend time with the boys and we all like Red Dwarf. I especially liked it because I couldn’t see straight down for six stories.