Attending the wedding of close friends who met while you were in college is a lot like seeing Cirque Du Soleil for the first time.

It’s expensive to go. Very expensive.

For the months/years leading up people in-the-know tell you every detail about everything that’s going to happen. You fluctuate between wildly excited and totally skeptical.

It starts and you’re completely freaked out. People are doing things you’re fairly certain no amount of training could prepare you to do. Also many people are wearing the same thing that you can’t quite decide how you feel about, and there’s thematic music.

A little while in you feel yourself falling into it — This is beautiful and meaningful. They seem really excited up there, you think. I could probably get into this. You’re borderline entranced, but still mostly scared about everything that could go wrong.

And hour so in and you’ve settled into a comfort zone where you at least know the performers aren’t going to fuck it up. No more chance of them falling from that 50 ft structure built of what appear to be Linkin Logs — slash someone backing out. You’ve graduated from freaked, but if it comes to audience participation, you’ll be at the bar.

Intermission offers the chance to compare notes with fellow attendees (read: feel better about yourself):

….Mmm, yes those blue dresses are beautiful….Yeah, no, I wouldn’t have put that song there either….Really? Funny. I was thinking this was all perfectly normal and not at all hard to do and I’ll probably just do it next week if I can fit it in. But I could see how you might be freaked out, maybe….

Act two and you’re used to it/drunk. You’re still in that mode where with each passing trick you’re wondering if you could ever possibly do what they’re doing and, if you could, what costume you’d want to wear. You’ve stopped paying attention to all the details. You’re feeling like it was mostly worth the money. And if they asked everyone to stand up right now and join in song/dance/a congo line – you’d do it and pose for a picture.

By the last number of the evening you’re making sexy eyes at every performer on stage. You’re sold. You loved every moment of it. You don’t want it to end. When can you go again? Who took pictures of everything?! You need them for your Facebook page!!

You leave the venue 180 degrees from where you arrived. Come ‘on of course you could do that. All it takes is a little passion and commitment. Plus look how fun it is. Aaahh…well… someday, if I’m lucky, I could be up there too…you sigh as you pass out in the front seat of the passenger van on the way back to the hotel.

Monday, back at the office:
“So, how was it?!”
“Really beautiful and a lot of fun, but god am I totally incapable of that doing that right now in my life. Also – just so expensive.”
Five minutes later at your desk:
www.cirquedusoleil.com/become_a_performer