Saturday, October 13, 2012
Y2 Day 45: Wine and Love
Today was the memorial service for the guy with Parkinson's at my church, and I really wanted to make an appearance. The place was packed! I sat with Arty Jenny and heard some wonderful stories about this interesting, dignified man. I'm so glad I went — and believe me, I wasn't the only one blowing my nose (though possibly the only one coughing and sneezing). (I did warn Arty Jenny that I was sick, but she just laughed at me.) Apparently, this guy knew that the end was coming soon, and he talked frankly with his daughter about the music he wanted at his memorial service. I promptly told Arty Jenny that I want her to do an erotic dance at my memorial service, and she agreed. (But she smokes like a chimney, no way am I going first unless I get hit by a bus.) ☺
(Hee! Love you, Jen-Jen!)
For one day only, the Metropolitan Opera was simulcasting its production of L'Elisir d'Amore, starring Husband's Other Wife Anna Netrebko, at movie theaters, and Husband was eager to experience his two wives together, because he is a perv. Ha! No, actually, I've been teasing him about this ever since I heard the Met did it, but he was very picky about the first Anna opera he shared with me (he wants his wives to like each other, natch). But this one, he said, was The One, and even though in my bleary congested morning state the LAST thing I wanted to do was sit through three hours of opera, I have to say that this was a truly magnificent production, and it was so much fun to do it with Husband. The music was glorious, the plot was engaging and delightful, and the acting and especially singing— ohmygosh, sublime. I was transported.
I've heard Anna sing before, on CDs, and I already knew that she has a lilting and natural voice; she is also stunningly beautiful and winsome. Husband picked well.
I have an editing job this weekend, and even though I try to eschew weekend work, this is a relatively easy job for good money, and next week is already pretty booked. I'm going through a hot spell! which is great, because I know there will be many long freezes to come. The really exciting part is that I seem to have attracted some new clients — word of my prowess is spreading! I'm, like, queen of the bathroom graffiti or something!
So I came home from my afternoon of cul-chuh and edited for three and a half hours. Ah, money.
But now I'm exhausted, and my generic Mucinex doesn't seem to be halting my snot production in any way. Time for a giant vat of tea, while I cuddle under my covers with a cozy mystery. I have no idea who the bad guy is, but it's Mary Higgins Clark; I know Our Heroine will never be in any real danger. It's all very comforting, especially since I'm facing Death by Snot, any minute now.
And one last thing: Isn't a perk of being sick supposed to be that you lose a little weight? I haven't lost a freaking ounce. Most annoying. I am vexed. And my nose is chapped. And my sinuses ache. And my hair looks stupid, I don't know why I persist in believing I can cut it myself. Hush, Mrs. Cynicletary. Yes, I can too hear you all the way in Arlington. Hush, I'm sick.
Love to all,
Lady C, on her probable deathbed