Dear Mom and Dad,
Despite your best efforts, your “birds and the bees” talk had woefully underprepared me for the event I saw unfold at the Magic Johnson theater this Saturday afternoon. I now regretfully inform you that I have had my sexual awakening to the movie musical Cats.
Gyrating… the Jellicle Ball… James Corden. What do these three things have in common? Well, they are forces that I never in my thirteen years would have expected to conjoin into an unholy creation giving me that “funny down-there feeling.”
What I thought was a “silly musical about cats” turned into a two-hour free-for-all about a bunch of dirty cats trying to win a talent show. Good, I thought. I will enjoy this ironically, a term I learned earlier this month.
But then the jazz squares started. Uh oh, I thought to myself. Mom and Dad said that this happens when “two people like each other a lot.” They didn’t say you’d feel weird all over watching interpretive dance from Judi Dench playing God in cat-human CGI. Interesting, I thought to myself. Interesting.
As the cats continued to introduce themselves, the inevitable became clear. I was becoming a woman at the Jellicle Ball. Why was this happening to me? Why? Couldn’t it have happened at Hamilton, or Les Misérables, or anything other than an Andrew Lloyd Webber cash grab?
I am horrified to admit the most gripping part of the movie musical for me was Grizabella (the dirtiest cat) singing “Memory.” She sang passionately of her disappointing life and melancholic remembrance of her past, and I thought it was… kind of hot? I don’t know. I’m in hell. It’s one thing to be into skin-tight rhythmic dancing, but to get hot under the collar for a fallen star’s pathetic delusions of grandeur – yikes!
Obviously, I have a lot to process.
What does this mean for the future? Who knows? It is my dearest wish we can put this whole ordeal behind us, and move on as a family. Hopefully, I lock this experience in a teeny-tiny litter box (excuse the pun, my brain is on fire) inside the deepest recesses of my brain for years to come. What happens when it comes to light? Best case scenario, you both will have been dead for years.
For the time being, I am going to take some time for myself to think things over. If you need me, I will be in my room reading the works of my favorite author, T.S. Eliot.
Regretfully Yours,
Suzie
