Friday, June 30, 2006
In other news: Confirmation of my season tickets to next year’s season at the Metropolitan Opera came. I was hoping to get what are now being sold as “Prime Balcony”, which may seem like a contradiction, but is actually the center front row in the balcony: fantastic seats. Got ‘em!
I’m actually really excited about the season. The Met’s doing a number of productions not done in a while, including La Gioconda. Much of this has to do with having a new General Manager, but also the 40th anniversary of the Met at Lincoln Center. So they’re doing the operas that were popular back in the 60s, in the dusk of the Callas era.
So Wednesdays are my night to see Gioconda (Ponchielli), Idomeneo (Mozart), Bohème (Puccini), Cavalleria Rusticana/Pagliacci (Leoncavallo), Il Trittico (Puccini), Eugene Onegin (Tchaikovsky), Barbiere di Siviglia (Rossini), Andrea Chénier (Giordano), and Turandot (Puccini). Max and I also got tickets to the opening night performance of Madama Butterfly, a new production by Minghella (director of the English Patient).
This is going to rock. I can hardly wait for the summer to be over!
Madama Butterfly at the Met this season.
I’m actually really excited about the season. The Met’s doing a number of productions not done in a while, including La Gioconda. Much of this has to do with having a new General Manager, but also the 40th anniversary of the Met at Lincoln Center. So they’re doing the operas that were popular back in the 60s, in the dusk of the Callas era.
So Wednesdays are my night to see Gioconda (Ponchielli), Idomeneo (Mozart), Bohème (Puccini), Cavalleria Rusticana/Pagliacci (Leoncavallo), Il Trittico (Puccini), Eugene Onegin (Tchaikovsky), Barbiere di Siviglia (Rossini), Andrea Chénier (Giordano), and Turandot (Puccini). Max and I also got tickets to the opening night performance of Madama Butterfly, a new production by Minghella (director of the English Patient).
This is going to rock. I can hardly wait for the summer to be over!
Madama Butterfly at the Met this season.
So where the fuck have I been these days? The answer is somewhat interesting: a fleeting romance, roughing it working in Cape Cod, dealing with vermin infestation, and trying to iron out my life – not always successfully, I might add.
Yes, I was dating this guy named Tim, an IT professional at age of 35. I finally caught on to his rather whimsical, unstable nature and was totally annoyed. Finally last weekend I got up the courage to break it off. That lasted 20 hours. By the time he came by to pick up his things we were back together again.
So over the weekend we spent gay pride together. By Tuesday I had to break up with him again. And this was final. He came to the apartment and took his shit and left. Though we parted as friends, thank God.
So during all of this I started some work-related projects with an old friend and Columbia University professor. Since he was on vacation on the Cape, he invited me out to his home there to work with him. I couldn’t pass it up. So we went to the beach, ran some regressions, ate and drank fantastic wine (he’s a wine aficionado). It was a great time.
But I came home to mouse dropping on my counter and a half-eaten box of crackers. The fucking mice are back again. Not being as worked up as the last time, I simply did the old routine: got the cheese ball and traps and put them in the kitchen.
I have to say they have certainly multiplied. Though the original killing last year was like Tosca killing Scarpia, given that I’ve now killed four, this is beginning to seem more like War and Peace. My god, it’s disgusting. It seems like every day I’m scraping some mouse carcass off my kitchen floor or counter.
This is all in time for my parents visit this weekend. I’m just hoping that this mouse situation is under control by that time, though the exterminator is not coming until next week and the holes in the walls on Monday. But maybe this will provide an incentive for them to take a hotel, in the next trip.
Dear God, this is what happens when I don’t blog in a while. How boring!
And work, I won’t even get into that. Let’s just say that in some sick way I related to “The Devil Wears Prada.”
Yes, I was dating this guy named Tim, an IT professional at age of 35. I finally caught on to his rather whimsical, unstable nature and was totally annoyed. Finally last weekend I got up the courage to break it off. That lasted 20 hours. By the time he came by to pick up his things we were back together again.
So over the weekend we spent gay pride together. By Tuesday I had to break up with him again. And this was final. He came to the apartment and took his shit and left. Though we parted as friends, thank God.
So during all of this I started some work-related projects with an old friend and Columbia University professor. Since he was on vacation on the Cape, he invited me out to his home there to work with him. I couldn’t pass it up. So we went to the beach, ran some regressions, ate and drank fantastic wine (he’s a wine aficionado). It was a great time.
But I came home to mouse dropping on my counter and a half-eaten box of crackers. The fucking mice are back again. Not being as worked up as the last time, I simply did the old routine: got the cheese ball and traps and put them in the kitchen.
I have to say they have certainly multiplied. Though the original killing last year was like Tosca killing Scarpia, given that I’ve now killed four, this is beginning to seem more like War and Peace. My god, it’s disgusting. It seems like every day I’m scraping some mouse carcass off my kitchen floor or counter.
This is all in time for my parents visit this weekend. I’m just hoping that this mouse situation is under control by that time, though the exterminator is not coming until next week and the holes in the walls on Monday. But maybe this will provide an incentive for them to take a hotel, in the next trip.
Dear God, this is what happens when I don’t blog in a while. How boring!
And work, I won’t even get into that. Let’s just say that in some sick way I related to “The Devil Wears Prada.”
Friday, June 02, 2006
Superlatives have been overused these days. Every time you turn on the television the words “Fantastic”, “Devistation”, “Best”, “Incredible”, “Idol” are thrown around to such an extent that the words have virtually lost meaning. I’ve never met someone in New York that wasn’t “Brilliant” – give me a break. But let me tell you when I describe the last couple of days as grueling, I mean it in every sense of the word.
You see, I’m in Charleston and have been here since Wednesday night (actually Thursday morning, if you count). The only reason I’m here is that I’ve somehow been made “business owner” of a large technology project to streamline people management processes. So I’ve been working with the CEO and a team of consultants to build out this suite of software.
What does this have to do with Charleston? Absolutely nothing.
Nothing except that getting time to spend with the CEO to discuss this project has been difficult. So he invited us to join him on his trip to Charleston and have a meeting on the Plane here and back. And here I am.
When we left on Wednesday night we were delayed 4 hours. Add to that the two hours on the plane and we basically covered everything we needed to cover for the trip. So I spend some more time with him yesterday talking about HR issues in our call center here before leaving for the airport last night. We waited for about three hours and finally the flight was cancelled.
So last night we continued to work at the hotel, sleep deprived from getting in at 1am the night before and with a sick, crabby CEO. So this morning we drug our asses out of bed to make our morning 7am flight only to find it cancelled and to discover that the next flight out wasn’t until noon. So here I sit with Vijay (our consutltant) eating stale Twinkies in the airport for the next four hours. The glamour of corporate America.
“There’s no place like home.”
I’m clicking my heels together and nothing is fuckin’ happening, people.
You see, I’m in Charleston and have been here since Wednesday night (actually Thursday morning, if you count). The only reason I’m here is that I’ve somehow been made “business owner” of a large technology project to streamline people management processes. So I’ve been working with the CEO and a team of consultants to build out this suite of software.
What does this have to do with Charleston? Absolutely nothing.
Nothing except that getting time to spend with the CEO to discuss this project has been difficult. So he invited us to join him on his trip to Charleston and have a meeting on the Plane here and back. And here I am.
When we left on Wednesday night we were delayed 4 hours. Add to that the two hours on the plane and we basically covered everything we needed to cover for the trip. So I spend some more time with him yesterday talking about HR issues in our call center here before leaving for the airport last night. We waited for about three hours and finally the flight was cancelled.
So last night we continued to work at the hotel, sleep deprived from getting in at 1am the night before and with a sick, crabby CEO. So this morning we drug our asses out of bed to make our morning 7am flight only to find it cancelled and to discover that the next flight out wasn’t until noon. So here I sit with Vijay (our consutltant) eating stale Twinkies in the airport for the next four hours. The glamour of corporate America.
“There’s no place like home.”
I’m clicking my heels together and nothing is fuckin’ happening, people.
