I didn’t get to see the concert last night. It was sold out. I got home relatively early (we even joked about it when we all went our separate ways, how it was pretty early to be so exhausted), and went to sleep. I have tickets for the opera for today. Robert Wilson’s Madame Butterfly. I’ve been saying I’m the only person who would want to see this, being a fan of both Wilson’s minimalist avant-garde whatever-it-is-he-does, and Madame Butterfly. Stee’s never seen an opera before. He keeps saying he’s going to bring a flask. I’d complain, but I was planning on bringing my notebook and a pen so I could write down pitch ideas. But I really wanted to go because it’s my dad’s birthday today, and I want to listen to Puccini in the dark and be sad for a few hours.

But. Continue reading