(If you don’t know what the subject header is about, you probably don’t know Sondheim.)
So I’m home. It’s 11:17 PM as I type the time. The opera finished at about 10:58. How cool is it to live so close to home that I can be home in so short a time, eh? (Sorry to all my pals who live further. I just love being this close!)
After I packed up I limped my way to the car. Sigh. Last night I wore the shoes I wore for Kelsey and Mel’s wedding. I won’t be wearing them again; I now have lovely blisters on my little toes, and my feet are in agony. Oh to find a pair of shoes that fit and look good.
But enough whining … on to the opera …
Yes, Manon died again tonight. Silly girl. She just makes the wrong choices every single performance. I suppose she’ll never learn.
The opera is still not at the top of my opera list. I think I’m a Mozart nut, for one, and dear Mr. Puccini hits my heart. But it’s been growing on me. And of course while it’s not my fave the oboe solos are just so fun to play. They are the sort I love to do … “juicy little things”, if you ask me.
The last time we did this opera I played both oboe and English horn. At the time I didn’t think anything of it; our part says, “Principal oboe takes English horn” or some such thing, implying the principal plays it. So last time I did. But not this year. Now that we have an official second oboist, it seems right for her to get the part. And am I ever thankful! What was I thinking, wanting to do both the last time? Silly me!
Now … do I take a chance and eat a bowl of cereal before I allow my head to hit the pillow? Hmmm. I’m thinking of going for it, despite knowing it may mean not sleeping well.
I think playing a night of Manon makes me hungry!
(If you want to know what the subject header is referring to, you’ll have to click on this link to see and hear “Every Day a Little Death” because whoever posted it doesn’t allow embedding. Which drives me nuts. But oh well.)
