I'm sorry I said you had shmutz on your head when it was Ash Wednesday
Other things, because other things happen:
1. Opera Boston is closing. I am really not happy about this, and not only because I had season tickets. They've been my favorite opera company ever since they staged a non-Hoffmann Offenbach in 2004; their repertoire seemed to split fairly evenly between operas I didn't know at all and operas I didn't know when I'd ever get the chance to see again. The same people did Menotti's The Consul, Brecht and Weill's Aufstieg und Fall der Stadt Mahagonny, Shostakovich's The Nose, Zhou Long and Cerise Lim Jacobs' Madame White Snake, and Hindemith's Cardillac. It was like they were taking requests from my brain. And just to add inaccessibility to insult, they're folding in the middle of the season: there goes Tippett's The Midsummer Marriage. I wanted to see that ever since I knew it existed. Opera drawn from The Waste Land! How often does that happen? Even more rarely now, it seems.
2. One of the books I finished last night at the hospital was Jim Butcher's Ghost Story (2011), meaning I'm now in the same straits as most of the people who recommended me this series. Seriously, can anyone explain to me why the entire Dresden Files fandom appears to revolve strictly around the uninteresting (and unbelievable) matchup of Harry Dresden and Johnny Marcone? It's enough to make me long for Yuletide's rare pairings option and I don't even participate. Words cannot express how happily I would read the amazing adventures of Butters and Bob and weekly calls from Butters' mom. (He's the genius behind the Quasimodo Polka. He's a spirit in a skull in a flashlight. She wants to know when one of them is going to find a nice Jewish girl. God, that probably just causes Bob to refine his search terms for porn. They . . . actually do fight crime. They're pretty good at it, too.)
3. Robert Donat was so much more interesting without his moustache. The Count of Monte Cristo (1934) and The 39 Steps (1935) make him look positively conventional. Who's this weird little fellow? Or this pin-up? Chameleon.
4. This journal may need a serious alteration in style unless I can find some way to remove the stupider features of the S2 upgrade, like tagging keywords to icons in the field and unnecessary text to comments all over the place. I'm not thrilled with the compulsory icons on the main page. It does not help that the individual posts aren't in the old style: they simply aren't in the awful new one. Anyone want to point me in the direction of some nice HTML?
5. This is a great album.
None of the usual things are happening for Christmas this year.
rushthatspeaks and
gaudior are here. I am very glad of them.
1. Opera Boston is closing. I am really not happy about this, and not only because I had season tickets. They've been my favorite opera company ever since they staged a non-Hoffmann Offenbach in 2004; their repertoire seemed to split fairly evenly between operas I didn't know at all and operas I didn't know when I'd ever get the chance to see again. The same people did Menotti's The Consul, Brecht and Weill's Aufstieg und Fall der Stadt Mahagonny, Shostakovich's The Nose, Zhou Long and Cerise Lim Jacobs' Madame White Snake, and Hindemith's Cardillac. It was like they were taking requests from my brain. And just to add inaccessibility to insult, they're folding in the middle of the season: there goes Tippett's The Midsummer Marriage. I wanted to see that ever since I knew it existed. Opera drawn from The Waste Land! How often does that happen? Even more rarely now, it seems.
2. One of the books I finished last night at the hospital was Jim Butcher's Ghost Story (2011), meaning I'm now in the same straits as most of the people who recommended me this series. Seriously, can anyone explain to me why the entire Dresden Files fandom appears to revolve strictly around the uninteresting (and unbelievable) matchup of Harry Dresden and Johnny Marcone? It's enough to make me long for Yuletide's rare pairings option and I don't even participate. Words cannot express how happily I would read the amazing adventures of Butters and Bob and weekly calls from Butters' mom. (He's the genius behind the Quasimodo Polka. He's a spirit in a skull in a flashlight. She wants to know when one of them is going to find a nice Jewish girl. God, that probably just causes Bob to refine his search terms for porn. They . . . actually do fight crime. They're pretty good at it, too.)
3. Robert Donat was so much more interesting without his moustache. The Count of Monte Cristo (1934) and The 39 Steps (1935) make him look positively conventional. Who's this weird little fellow? Or this pin-up? Chameleon.
4. This journal may need a serious alteration in style unless I can find some way to remove the stupider features of the S2 upgrade, like tagging keywords to icons in the field and unnecessary text to comments all over the place. I'm not thrilled with the compulsory icons on the main page. It does not help that the individual posts aren't in the old style: they simply aren't in the awful new one. Anyone want to point me in the direction of some nice HTML?
5. This is a great album.
None of the usual things are happening for Christmas this year.

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That weird little fellow is adorable. Do you know what film he was in? Or the smolderer?
That album confirms: you can get anything you want. Even Alice.
I am so very glad that your cousins are with you. Give them my love.
Nine
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Seriously, can anyone explain to me why the entire Dresden Files fandom appears to revolve strictly around the uninteresting (and unbelievable) matchup of Harry Dresden and Johnny Marcone?
I wish I could, because if I could do that I could probably explain why so much of Harry Potter fandom revolves around uninteresting and unlikely pairings. (Harry/Draco? Draco/Hermione? I can't decide which is worse.)
I suspect I'd like the DF fanfic you're wishing for. I'm going to have to read that one with the tyrannosaur--I didn't manage to make it to the library before they closed for the holidays.
3...Chameleon.
It's interesting how some actors have that gift.
4.
I wish I knew a fix for you. I wish it weren't such an ever-loving mess. I've gone and complained in every place I could find.
I'm glad your cousins are there to be with you. Blessings to all of you, to all of your family.
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One less reason not to move to New York, eh?
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I do believe that there are rich opera lovers in Boston, but I believe also that they are directing their money to e.g. the Met in New York, partly because of Boston's stuttering record with opera. In other words, it's a cycle: opera can't get funded unless it's funded. In Boston, also, though it's a musically literate city, an opera company has tough competition from any number of musical groups, many of them world-class and internationally recognized, and establishing a new group in the midst of that is very difficult. Caldwell probably had the best chance of success (charisma, recognition), and did not succeed.
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That 'weird little fellow' photo of Donat makes him look very cute, in a puckish fashion.
I'm glad you're not alone. Take care.
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