Opera
The child wishes to be blogged; he has learned how to blow bubbles with his bubble gum and thinks you should know.
Now you know.
I now understand why the first prize in every blasted school fundraiser is a yard-o-bubble-gum. We used to get these things and lean them up in the corner of the kitchen until they were hard and then throw them out; I couldn't see the use of them. This week, however, the first thing the child does in the morning, and then again when he comes home on the bus, and then again after dinner, is go to the yard-o-bubble-gum in the corner, bite a piece off, and practice blowing bubbles until he's required to spit the damn stuff out. I see that an entire yard of the stuff is indeed useful. Didn't know. Learn something every day.
Here's some knitting:
Black mohair shawl with Shiny! Beads! on the fringe. I get to wear it to the opera tomorrow, along with the vintage 50's cream-colored brocade dress I bought on eBay. EBay is a darling place for vintage clothes, if, like me, you despise the hunt but like the goods. I can't bear to go shopping, unless my friend Michelle takes me and then we get lunch, so it's not actually about shopping, it's about having time without EITHER our beloved families OR our current production schedules. The annoying thing about shopping is that the item which is in my head is seldom extant in the stores, and so it's all a big waste of time. But eBay! Ha, ha! One nice saved search for "scenic print" in the vintage clothes section will snag, over the course of 6 months or so, several darling cotton skirts from the 50's with panoramic scenes of Tuscany, or bonvoyage steamers carrying off passengers to, one gathers, Europe, and you never have to actually get in the car and drive over to the mall -- which is all we've got around here, let me tell you -- and have little snit fits for an entire afternoon. Yes. And this brocade dress I've got for the opera is a killer. And I get to wear my mohair shawl. And the whole outfit was cheap, cheap, cheap.
It's The Barber of Seville tomorrow. I'm ready. I don't know a damn thing about opera, really; I like the music, and I like the singing, and I admire mightily the costumes and the scenery, and nobody, I tell you nobody, is more appreciative than me when the sopranos sing coloratura arias whilst lying upside down on the stairs after having stabbed their bridegrooms (that'd be Lucia di Lammermoore), but I'm ignorant about the opera, in truth. So I generally prepare for these events by buying some CD of the upcoming opera and playing it on my office computer --then I have some sort of idea as to what's going on. But I stopped doing that with The Barber of Seville pretty quickly, cause it was Totally Unnecessary, and if you grew up watching Bugs Bunny cartoons every Saturday of your childhood, you wouldn't need to listen to the CD either, even if you knew nothing, I tell you nothing, about opera, cause you already know the score; it's the music by which Bugs torments Elmer Fudd.
Proof that I'm not a true opera buff is shown by the fact that I think this is hilarious, and if I were a Real Aficionado I would be Appalled.
A week from hell is over -- on Friday alone I had three meetings and a pile of midterms and papers to get graded -- midterm reports were due. Oddly enough, every one of those meetings was productive. No time wasted there. Cool. And unusual. But next week will be more tightly packed than this one was. So, I should have a restful quiet weekend, full of renewal and recuperation, fitting me for the hard work ahead.
But I'm not! Ha!
Must go work on the head of Medusa now...
Now you know.
I now understand why the first prize in every blasted school fundraiser is a yard-o-bubble-gum. We used to get these things and lean them up in the corner of the kitchen until they were hard and then throw them out; I couldn't see the use of them. This week, however, the first thing the child does in the morning, and then again when he comes home on the bus, and then again after dinner, is go to the yard-o-bubble-gum in the corner, bite a piece off, and practice blowing bubbles until he's required to spit the damn stuff out. I see that an entire yard of the stuff is indeed useful. Didn't know. Learn something every day.
Here's some knitting:
Black mohair shawl with Shiny! Beads! on the fringe. I get to wear it to the opera tomorrow, along with the vintage 50's cream-colored brocade dress I bought on eBay. EBay is a darling place for vintage clothes, if, like me, you despise the hunt but like the goods. I can't bear to go shopping, unless my friend Michelle takes me and then we get lunch, so it's not actually about shopping, it's about having time without EITHER our beloved families OR our current production schedules. The annoying thing about shopping is that the item which is in my head is seldom extant in the stores, and so it's all a big waste of time. But eBay! Ha, ha! One nice saved search for "scenic print" in the vintage clothes section will snag, over the course of 6 months or so, several darling cotton skirts from the 50's with panoramic scenes of Tuscany, or bonvoyage steamers carrying off passengers to, one gathers, Europe, and you never have to actually get in the car and drive over to the mall -- which is all we've got around here, let me tell you -- and have little snit fits for an entire afternoon. Yes. And this brocade dress I've got for the opera is a killer. And I get to wear my mohair shawl. And the whole outfit was cheap, cheap, cheap.
It's The Barber of Seville tomorrow. I'm ready. I don't know a damn thing about opera, really; I like the music, and I like the singing, and I admire mightily the costumes and the scenery, and nobody, I tell you nobody, is more appreciative than me when the sopranos sing coloratura arias whilst lying upside down on the stairs after having stabbed their bridegrooms (that'd be Lucia di Lammermoore), but I'm ignorant about the opera, in truth. So I generally prepare for these events by buying some CD of the upcoming opera and playing it on my office computer --then I have some sort of idea as to what's going on. But I stopped doing that with The Barber of Seville pretty quickly, cause it was Totally Unnecessary, and if you grew up watching Bugs Bunny cartoons every Saturday of your childhood, you wouldn't need to listen to the CD either, even if you knew nothing, I tell you nothing, about opera, cause you already know the score; it's the music by which Bugs torments Elmer Fudd.
Proof that I'm not a true opera buff is shown by the fact that I think this is hilarious, and if I were a Real Aficionado I would be Appalled.
A week from hell is over -- on Friday alone I had three meetings and a pile of midterms and papers to get graded -- midterm reports were due. Oddly enough, every one of those meetings was productive. No time wasted there. Cool. And unusual. But next week will be more tightly packed than this one was. So, I should have a restful quiet weekend, full of renewal and recuperation, fitting me for the hard work ahead.
But I'm not! Ha!
Must go work on the head of Medusa now...
<< Home