Last night, Mimosa and I saw "Beautiful" at the Boston Opera House (this was her "big" present for her 18th birthday). What a glorious show! We love love LOVED it!!!!
The Boston Opera House is simply stunning, though by the time we'd climbed up 400 flights of stairs to get to our seats (Mezzanine, row M), and after I'd already climbed up and down another 30 to find the Ladies', my knees were sobbing and I was ready to have a stroke — which is in fact what I said to the nice usherette when she asked me how I was doing. "About to have a stroke," I panted, hot-flashing like mad. "No, you're not," she said, rather flatly, handing me a program. Well, thank you, Usherette M.D.! What thorough training you must have!
Except: she was right.
Our seats were high up, for sure, but also dead center; we had a straight shot down to that piano, and when "Carole King" appeared, every goosebump I've ever possessed stood at attention.
The show is brisk and funny and moving, punctuated with, oh, every song you've ever heard of ever. I'm still giggling over this:
Gerry Goffin: These lyrics are pointless.
Carole King: It's fun! Kids will love it.
Gerry (to babysitter): Here, you know every singer. Take a look at these lyrics — who could sing this?
Babysitter (reads flatly): "Everybody's - doing - a - brand - new - dance - now - come - on - baby - do - the" — I have no idea.
Gerry: Oh, come on, Little Eva!
Yeah. Little Eva was Carole King's babysitter. Crazytown.
I saw three people I knew in the audience, including a current client and a former boss, and I choose to believe this was a good omen for future work.
We preceded our meal with dinner at Abby Lane, an adorable little bistro that serves fabulous food. I swooned over my Caesar salad with kale and roasted Brussels sprouts; Mimosa went wild for the hot homemade doughnuts, with dark chocolate sauce, chocolate pudding, and vanilla bean mousse for dipping.
All in all, a perfect evening.
I loved seeing how the "Tapestry" album is really a story — her story — of finding her own voice.
The "Tapestry" album means different things to different people, but for me it represents the one time in my entire life when I was one of the cool girls.
|Sierra View Elementary School, my alma mater|
Ah, the glory.
But just for that one year. The following year, Terri moved away, Jenni was in a different class, Robin became best friends with Cori M, and I was still part of the group but didn't have a bestie. At one point, to save space, the teacher asked us to pair up and share a desk, and I was the only girl with no partner.
Popularity is a fleeting thing.
Before signing off and getting back to work, I want to quickly note another recent theater-going experience: Mimosa and I saw our dearest friend Mrs. Cynicletary in a delightful romp titled "5 Lesbians Eating a Quiche."
|Mrs. C is second from the right|
My only disappointment is that for a brief moment she planned to wear one of my dresses as her costume (which blasted me right back to college, when everyone came to my room to borrow clothes whenever they needed a costume for something. Doesn't everyone have a selection of formals, elbow-length gloves, and boas???). (Zanzibar, this is one of the vintage dresses you gave me back in the day — sleeveless with blue flowers, rhinestone buttons, and a cinched waist — remember it?) It was thrilling to think of my dress starring in a play, but alas: She found an even better one, a flattering black number not depicted here.
Anyway! I love nothing more than live theater, and live theater starring one of my besties is the greatest thing of all.
Must start my day now. Sending gratitude into the world for all veterans everywhere (including my dad, whom I faithfully called on Veterans Day every year), and lots of love and healing vibes to Lady Darcy, who's having a major ladyorgan removed today.
All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.
— Lady C