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Dialog with Neighbor Girl
On the afternoon of the opera, I was adjusting the Wanna wig. I was working with the wig on the wig form and created a carefully artless Elvis-Presley-Michael-Jackson spit-curl by my right eyebrow. I carried it to the bathroom, plunked it on my head, and was evaluating if it was too precious when I had…
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Opera Review: Tosca
Yet another opera about non-consensual sex. Unfortunately, this meant I found myself saying things like, “My favorite aria was the one in the church during the prayer, and when Scarpia sings about how much he likes raping people.” (You can tell he likes it, not just from the enraging lyrics, but because they had the…
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Pre-Opera Pining
I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Gay Divorcee before today, and I know I’ve never heard Fred Astaire hiss out this exchange: Egbert Fitzgerald: Guy, you’re not pining for that girl! Guy Holden: Pining? Men don’t pine. Girls pine. Men just… suffer. I feel you Fred, especially the way you say “suffer” with such…
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TWIL: I Live Spitting Distance from a Potential Saint
Evidently there’s an allegedly incorruptible saint’s body a few hundred miles from my house. It doesn’t seem that remarkable, somehow. There are bog people. And I have to wonder how many other non-embalmed people are dug up and are still in good shape after a few years. is it a common occurrence and only gets…
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Rewriting the Novel: Too Much
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Baby Birthday
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Weekly Paint Progress: 5/25
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Garden Disaster or Garden Opportunity
I scattered Preen weed killer / fertilizer all throughout the garden, forgetting to avoid the six year-old bugleweed and creeping Jenny I cultivated so it spills artfully over the wall and softens the transition from the rocks to the lirope. So now all that is dead. I could replant it, or I could see if…
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Laundry Detritus
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Opera Review: Treemonisha
