My fingers are so rough that when I brushed them against my face, I scratched my face. 😦
I went to the opera yesterday. Wendy bought season passes to the opera, but because of school, she couldn’t go yesterday, so I got the ticket off her at a heavily discounted price. I had no idea what I was in for, frankly, but I fancied it might be fun to visit this high-brow world that I’ve never before ventured into.
The lyric opera being only a brisk 20 minute walk from my apartment, I decided to stroll there, and pick up some dinner along the way. Alas, I didn’t account for the cold. At 10 F, or -13 degrees Celsius, I could barely feel my feet as I strode my way across the icy pavements, my hands stuffed deep into my pockets and my head bowed. My face was pinched from the millions of pinpricks, and when I finally made my way into the welcome warmth, they looked just like Cedric Diggory’s rosy cheeks. Now that almost made the trek worth it…
The opera itself, I must say, was a let down. Called Midsummer Marriage, it’s supposed to be some contemporary, interpretative play, interspersed with lots of weird symbolic dancing and obscure speeches that I couldn’t make head or tail of. Coupled with the fact that I had to read the electronic reader above the stage to figure out what the actors/singers were singing, it wasn’t a very smoothing experience. Halfway through the first act, I um, fell asleep, and was only woken up by the lights coming back on. At that point in time, I was already debating making the dreaded walk home, but the bitter cold, and my money, made me stay on. So I did. But the second act was no better, and in fact, even weirder. I had completely no clue what was going on. So I left. I wasn’t the only one though, there were dozens of other people swathed in their thick coats, gingerly waddling their way down the stairs too, so that I was a little confused for a moment. Had the opera finished? Sigh, call me plebeian if you like, but I shall stick to my musicals. At least then I can enjoy the mindless repetitions of the pop chorus, and understand what the singers are singing with my eyes closed. I shall go watch Rent.
Opera and contemporary plays should not mix. It’s hard enough to figure out one alone as it is. Haha, but I’m giving the high arts another chance. Catching the Nutcracker Ballet with Pauline this Friday. Now, that should be fun.