Gah - You know getting back into the swing of writing is pretty difficult, especially when the puffs are all gone and Jem Wants More Puffs. Not to be consoled by Cheerios, which she was fisting earlier (and I have the movie to prove it, and it shall be posted sometime or another, sooner or later), she has taken to screaming on the floor at my feet. Bug, ever the Entertainment Director, ran to fetch her ball to bounce around and cheer Jem up. Even with the crisis diverted, I am having a hard time focusing enough to put together that first line.
Something about getting cultured made me start thinking about yogurt, but the thought isn't gelling for me. Whatever.
Over the last month I have experienced three new things involving the arts: A play (The Lieutenant of Inishmare), a show (Stomp), and an opera (Romeo et Juliette), the last two of which were over the last two nights. While I felt perfectly at ease at the first two, the opera made me feel a little out of place. Maybe it was because I attended it with mister mrtl's coworker, who has been enjoying opera since she was a kid, and I just don't get it. No doubt the talent was amazing and I would go to an opera again, but why sing the ENTIRE time? All runny? And repetitiously? In another language? Thinking of it that way, I suppose musicals are stranger, where one minute people are chatting and the next they're singing and dancing. If they're singing the entire time, at least it's believable. Like they're in some warped other world where that's normal.
There were other things here that I found distracting...
- Foul wind. It was throughout the performance but not during intermissions, so of course I was studying my neighbors to try to determine the source.
- Marination. So many people all dressed up and pretty with their perfumes and colognes.
- The conductor. His perfectly-round bald spot reflected the light, occasionaly flashing in my eyes, as he bobbed and waved his arms.
- The casting of Juliet. She was lovely and extremely talented, but not very youthful of appearance. Also, when the light caught her face, especially during the first act, she looked a little like Janice in The Sopranos. Not good.
- Bulges... and lack thereof. The men wore tights. It was very disconcerting to see such massive bulges on some men, and no bulges on others, and NO, I'm not including here the woman who played the boy. Mercutio and Tybalt's were both so extraordinarily huge, it was obvious they were packing some socks.
- Speaking of Mercutio... nice buns! Thank you for dying face down.
