Yesterday was another very long day for me. It started before seven am and finished at one this morning, with a two-hour nap in between. I had to get up early to take Erik to the airport (for a meeting in San Jose), came back and slept until I had to go take up my TAC duties, then returned home.
But it wasn’t all work and no play. Margaret and I went again to the LA Opera to see Massenet’s Manon. It wasn’t, musically, as thrilling as Don Carlo, but it was bucketloads of fun to watch. The director has worked with Madonna and other pop stars, so the overall feel of the set, costumes, and attitude were glitzy and over-the-top. In a good way. Manon was written in the nineteenth century, but the producers set this playful version in the 1950s. Although the opera is a tragedy, and the final act is very moving, it was an extremely funny and sexy production. This photo should sum it up: Soprano does a pole dance? Yes please! And Anna Netrebko really has gorgeous legs.
The opera was great, but getting to and from it, not so much. This is why I got home after midnight for a less-than-three-hour show that began at seven-thirty. When I came back from campus around four-thirty the traffic was already so horrible I didn’t think I’d make it to the opera house on time if I drove, so I walked and took the subway instead. As I walked the mile along the boulevard from my apartment to the rail station, even wearing heels I managed to outpace the cars. Hooray for trains, unaffected as they are by traffic! After a short wait in the station I boarded the train and afterward walked the two blocks from the Civic Center station to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. The clock tower rang six o’clock just as I was climbing the stairs to the entrance, and just as it finished chiming, I spotted Margaret across the plaza, also just arrived, and looking like a movie star in a floor-length pink gown.
After the opera I took the train again, but when I exited the station I wanted to take the bus home to spare my tired feet. I waited about fifteen minutes, then finally spotted a bus. Thanks to congestion at the intersection (at ten-thirty?!) it took at least ten minutes for it to get close enough for me to see the number, and naturally it was not my bus. At this point I just gave up and walked home, where the kitties were so happy to see me after a day of no big people at home.
It was hard to get up at seven-thirty this morning, but here I am, on campus and now about to do some research.
[This post was imported on 4/10/14 from my old blog at satsumabug.livejournal.com.]