MADAME BUTTERFLY TODAY

I had the opportunity to see the opera Madame Butterfly yesterday... written by Puccinni.
I am way into music, and enjoyed it greatly. The sets, the costume, the singing (all made easier to understand by a modern miracle, the supertitle... literally subtitles above the stage, translating the action for you), the last act moved me to tears.
As usual, it's all about lost love in these things... why else would someone inevitably try to kill themselves (and generally succeed) in the last act.
But I was thinking, how would modern times interpret Madame Butterfly without an international incident?
It's about a naval officer getting into a marriage contract with a Japanese girl that is for 999 years, but renewable every month? (Lots of legal issues there already... in this day and age, certainly our little Butterfly would know what a pre-nup was)
Of course they shack up, she gets denounced from her family for renouncing her faith (and going to the Christian faith of her new hubbie), and he leaves shortly before she finds out she is pregnant with his child.
Oh, the next issue... she claims to be 15.
I don't think that that is legal even in Japan these days, do you?
And he's an officer of the United States Navy, I'm smelling courtmartial don't you?
And child support, and lots of other things for this wayward officer Pinkerton. (And WHAT a name! he even sounds like a weenie doesn't he?)
Then Pinkerton returns with his new American wife (BIGAMY!) to reclaim his son...
Of course, when he realizes that Butterfly NEVER abandoned him, or thoughts of their "love" he freaks out and hauls ass. Of course to return as Butterfly does the honorable thing and kills herself... after giving her son over to the new American wife.
Is this a Jerry Springer show or what?
Of course the son would grow up with all of this, and cashing in on it bigtime... from Daddy to Mommy's demise. Probably suing Daddy for mental anguish. (Do you think Naval officers would make enough to cover the legality of all this?) The maid, of course would be writing books, and making guest appearances on talk shows... helping on the new blockbuster hit of "Madame Butterfly's revenge" or something of that nature.
All of her clothing would be up for auction, not to mention the sword that she used to kill herself... EBAY!
Yes, I could see how exciting Madame Butterfly would be now, many years later.

SHALLOW 1)Measuring little from bottom to top or surface, not deep. 2)Lacking depth, as in intellect or significance

I haven't been blogging at all due to a collision with shallowness...
Yes, it's amazing how quickly you hit the bottom of another person's personality and it causes you to skip over the next few days in amazement...
I expect the best in folks, and unfortunately, it's generally a big set-up for disapointment, however... I find that you can always surprise them and yourself by expecting the best.
I recently pressed a gentleman (and I use that term loosely), about why he had not been really introducing me around (it was sort of obvious). His response was the collision, "well, I really like EVERYTHING about you, but your hair color" "I was hoping that I could get over it, and I am willing to try. Maybe in a little while it won't make any difference."
I was stunned. This man was balding. He had the proverbial spare tire. And he was concerned with my HAIR COLOR?
I reminded him... "There is more to me than my hair color..." "I hardly think that someone in your situation should be critical of me... after all you are balding and barely have any hair" "Even if I died my hair, wouldn't I always wonder if it was really me that you liked?"
His reply was even more interesting... "But I've discussed with you what I INTEND (very key word here... I'll get back to it) to do about my hair. All the hair club for men ads that I asked you about, different hair magazines with dying solutions that I have shown you and you never mentioned once that YOU wanted to do something different."
"Well, why should I discuss what I intend to do with my hair color with you? I mean, after all, most men aren't interested in the beauty options of women... hair, nails, clothes?? After all, you knew what my hair color was when you met me, and we have been dating for a month? You weren't attracted to me at all?"
After all, even though he intended to do something with his hair... he was the one combing with a rake.

The situations and names have been changed to protect the innocent and of course prevent any lawsuits that may arise from balding, spare tired men.
Yes, it's caddy of me to refer to him that way... but if he can be that shallow... aren't I entitled to a few parting blows?
After an experience like this, I know why some people prefer animals to people...

YOU KNOW YOU HAVE A BAD DAY WHEN.... AND CHOIR DRAMA CONTINUES

You know that you have had a bad day when the first thing that you want when you step into the door is a drink (of the adult kind) and a cigarrette (esp when you generally smoke when you are 3 sheets to the wind).
Don't you hate it when you start your day out by being late?
It's not enough that you are awakened out of slumber by whatever noise, light, cat leaping on top of you, etc... but then you realize that the clock somehow doesn't seem right. And what I mean by right is correct... it seems to be reading at a different hour than you normally awaken. And then, in the next 15 seconds, it clicks... because the light coming in your window doesn't look quite correct, and you know you feel a little too well rested... and then you realize why you were dreaming about being trapped in a house when you so desperately needed to be somewhere and your ex-boyfriend was there thwarting you, teasing you, making you linger because you are wandering what the fuck he is doing there in your dream in the first place! Of course, the dream is bad enough. But then you get into traffic. Traffic of the variety that you are NOT accustomed to contend with... which is why you generally wake up EARLY.
Ok, so you have your coffee, because at least the coffee pot woke up when it was supposed to and produced it's magical brew. You have tunes... but you are in a rental car, and you don't have the exact variety that you are accustomed to, and you know it's going to be a long commute.
However, it's still early, there is time to be optimistic based on the rate of speed that you are going and how much ground that you are covering.
And then, you hit the traffic wall.
That moment, when you realize that it's NOT going to get better...no, in fact, it's going to get WORSE! and it does, and all that you can do is sip at the remainder of your coffee, try to stab at the buttons on the stereo and distract yourself. "With acceptance, comes peace"
So, you've accepted, you've come to some sort of peace with yourself... and then you get to work.
An entire other set of issues to deal with, personalities, explanations as to why you are late... phrasing it so that you don't look so idiotic... because you feel kind of bad. I mean, we all get upset when someone is perpetually late... or it happens on a really BAD morning for lateness, etc. but then we do it, you do it, and you can't help but feel a little twinge.
And then, "with acceptance comes peace"
You know, and please tell me if I am wrong... but when you are late to work so early in the morning... the groove is gone before it gets there, you know what I mean?

Oh! and the choir drama continues...
The day before yesterday as you know, there was an emergency meeting for the choir to decide how to proceed as our choir director was clearly overmedicated for his problem with depression.
Oddly enough, the choir members present (can't say I was there... too much drama for me) decided to split under another director. (which I completely agree with)
All of this was cool, great! We were going to meet at another location even.
And then we all received the expected goodbye email from the old, depressed, overmedicated, director.
And then another letter from the same...
By the third, I was done.
Or, so I thought. Because of course there were replies from members of the choir, some derogatory, some not...
The not was either chastising the members that had been derogatory, or aplauding other choir members for coming "clean" about their depression, and applauding them for it.
No offense, I do aplaud these individuals for dealing with their emotional issues.... but I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If this is bitchy, then call me a bitch. But I barely know these people, so please!

INSANE CHOIR DIRECTORS AND THE CABLE COMPANY

This am, as I try to clear up my bills... I am thwarted by the cable company's automated "on hold" system... Conveniently, if you are trying to downgrade your service it conveniently hangs up on you somewhere between the 5-7 minute wait time. What a racket!!! How perfect, the customer CAN'T get thru and therefore continues to pay the pig!
I am NOT paying the pig, but instead intend to take even MORE time out of my day to pop in to say hello and attempt to get this straightened out.
I downgraded 2 mths ago, you'd think that they would have the billing corrected by now... ahem, but NO!
In the meantime, to complete my morning ritual... I go to check my email, only to find another cooky letter from my choir director... who it seems has been overmedicated by his therapist.
He showed up late and disoriented at the last practice... which fortunately I did not attend.
Then he wrote a bizarre email about the list of medication that he is taking, his life long battle with depression and being confronted by the cops??? Needless to say there was an "emergency" meeting that was held last night... which unfortunately I did not attend. (or fortunately) Too much drama!! I just wanted to sing, that was all.
And this am, this second letter from him. He's just too creepy for me!
EEEEEuuuuuuwwwwwwww if you know what I mean.

It is Sunday morning and I am contemplating paying bills and doing laundry after a nice, big, fat breakfast including just about every bfast food that one can eat in one sitting... Eggs, bacon, grits, toast, fruit! Coffee with half and half even, I felt like I was at a hotel (with the exception that I made it AND cleaned it up).
I am trying to track down a friend that is supposed to be in town, but I haven't heard from her yet.
And her daughter isn't answering her phone, oh well...
The kittens are on the porch, trying to bait birds to land on the railing... and it's starting out to be a nice lazy Sunday with no plans in front of me at all... except for the bill paying.
I am so excited about my vacation that is up and coming!
I get to see my cousin, step-sister, godson, grandma! It hopefully, will be a nice break from everything that is or isn't happening fast enough in my life.
Is it June yet?

The car accident made me worry even more about school.
What if I quit my job, wait tables, have to depend on my family for money and then something like this comes up?
I get a headache just thinking about it.
And it turns a smile into a frown.
There are a few people that wish to live vicariously through me in this experience. And then, of course, there are those, like myself, that think that I am just plain nuts.
(and I myself, am beginning to wonder)
I think what the whole idea is supposed to be is taking that leap off the ledge... the departing from your life into another... wondering if it can really happen. If things will just fall into place?
I'd love advice if anyone has done something radical like this... words of encouragement, or words like "you'd better do this first or you really are a coconut short..."

MAYBE WE SHOULD ALL GET BREAST IMPLANTS
I admit it, I turned on Ricky Lake today as I was cleaning the house. You know, like you do for background noise... but as you know, these shows are like train wrecks... you just sort of find yourself watching them and wondering what these poor people did in some former life to be run over by the karma train and end up on Jerry Springer or Ricky Lake. (as even Jerry Springer mentioned to the audience in one of his shows, "If you're on this show... you know it can't be good.")
Today's Ricky was all about "extreme breast makeovers", of course, they took other parts and pieces off the women as well... for the "makeover part" I suppose.
All the girls were in their mid 20s, would be my best guess. Hell, one even had her boyfriend with her at her operation (and exactly why did she feel so insecure about the whole procedure??? was it him???)
But they all made it sound like this was the best damn thing that they EVER did... and how much it increased their self esteem and gave them confidence...
Some things that disturb me (beyond all the little girls at home watching how easy it is for them to change their body by knife for a new look), well what I just mentioned disturbs me too. But with all of these makeover programs, is it any wonder why people are so disatisfied with themselves? Playboy, Men'sIllustrated Swimsuit Edition... advertisements. Is it any wonder how people can be so irrational if their nose has character, if they are tall, if they are short, if they are curvy. Whatever happened to what's inside someone? And women are just as bad, GQ, Mens Health... I know that I sneak a peak between the covers of those mags to see what's smoking once in a while.
The truth that we all know... ok, maybe not until you are closer to your late 20s, or just EXTREMELY insensitive, shallow or STUPID ... once we get under that pretty wrapping, we taste something sweet, but soon begins to make us sick to our stomach. Because the candy coating was all that there was... and if I can elaborate a bit more, sometime there is a stinking pile underneath it... (which can REALLY make you sick!)
Ok, ok, I hear you... some simply WANT a taste... nothing else. (but not most, not all)
Isn't it about time that we start learning to live with who we are, and not the idea of who we someday hope to be?

RUN DOWN ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON
So, coming home after a pleasant afternoon in of all places, Flowery Branch, not even 2 mins from home, I get into an accident.
The entire side of my car got swiped, my rear tire, punctured.
The young man that was in this accident with me, was extremely apologetic, even helped changed my tire. He wanted to take care of the damage himself.
I had already called the police.
When the police got there, we gave a rundown of the accident.
When the policeman tried to give me the citation, I asked for a more elaborate explanation as to why...
The gentleman that hit me, was after all, in my lane... attempting to make the same turn as I was.
I pointed to the glass in the roadway before the road that we were turning onto started...
"OH!" was his reply and took the citation away from me, and went back to his car.
He then returned and gave the young man the citation, and told me to contact my insurance company with the report....etc etc
What a pain! I hate accidents! As if my poor car hasn't been through enough already.

You know the type of people that are always first in line for the free buffet? The kind of people that just sort of push for every benefit that they can possibly get? The first to ask, what comes along with that?
Well, I realize that we are all looking for some sort of bargain along the way... in one form or another. And "it never hurts to ask"... but I bet that you know (as of course, do I) at least one person that is just pushing it to the limit... and of course... killing some opportunities as well for you. (Because the "benefits" have been abused...)

The game was as awful as it felt earlier in the day.
The weather was poor, my mood worse... I went to the game determined to be hyped to go. I was, and suceeded in such until a girl on the other team was injured. She probably needed stitches. The other team wanted to continue to play, and lets just say that they were out for blood, I suppose to replace her own.
Needless to say we lost. I was very irritated by the entire game, I was not in the mood to continue after the girl had been injured, and was definitely not ready to meet the players in such an aggresive mood. We do play in a competitive league... but it still is supposed to be flag football.

Dreading the game...
I have been doing bills, laundry and all assorted Sunday chores... and upon finishing am trying to kill time before going to play flag football.
I am not understanding why the game has not been called off because it is incredibly windy and the ground is incredibly wet... not to mention it appears as if the sky will dump buckets upon us VERY, VERY, VERY soon.
And my biggest beef is the time of the game... not until 6:30PM.
I am dreading this game, as we play different teams every week, but they are continuously the same people over and over and over again.
Can we hold onto our top slot?

It is raining and I have finally managed to drag myself out of bed. After all, it is a Sunday and it is RAINING. And it has been RAINING since I left Highland Tap last night at around midnight.
I like to hang out in the Highlands, always have. We went to not only Fontaine's last night for dinner but hiked it down to Hand in Hand for a drink as well. Then for some reason, one of our crowd suggested a change in venue to Neighbors.
This would have been fine except for 3 things. First, when we got there, we added chairs to our table. (to which the waiter insisted we turn the table around for better traffice flow) Second, after looking around at the crowd (and feeling like the oldest people there), the same person in our crowd said we should have gone to Highland Tap to begin with. I suggested we go, having been the one to resist earlier, it was simply because it was beautiful earlier and why miss out by hanging in a bar where you aren't sure if it's day or night?
Well one girl in the crowd had actually forgotten her id. So for the third thing...
Ok, we were all in our late 20's, early 30's in this crowd.... so no prob right? Well, instead of just trying to get in, one girl had a broken id, and passed it along to her. The first bar we go in, no prob.
But they had left Hand in Hand after the other half of the group was already inside Neighbors. This extremely astute tattoed young lady, who we will refer to as "Bouncer of the Year", saw thru the ruse and immediately began to interrogate the young woman. To the point of removing her id and taking it immediately to the 18 yr old manager. (so he could do what exactly?)
After a little name calling, and id retrieving, we parted Neighbors and moved to Highland Tap, where happily NO one checked ANY ID'S.

BE CAREFUL WHO YOU PISS OFF, BE CAREFUL WHAT YA SAY
Because last night, I ran into someone from my home town... sort of "six degrees" but not even that many. She is/was best friends with an old ex-girlfriend of my brothers... who (brother) graduated 2 yrs ahead of her.
And yes, I was FREAKED out for a bit because... "It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small, small world!"

Last night I got to see another of my favorite singers, the one, the only Chris Jackson. He played acoustic at Eddie's Attic to open for some other bands. I always enjoy watching him sing and play. It was quite a contrast to see him play by himself last night, and not with the entire band like several weeks ago.
He is extremely talented, and I enjoy seeing him alone or with the crowd of his band. If you see a posting for Big Vessel or Chris Jackson, I highly recommend that you go!