No recipe today, kids. It’s still just me and the cat and I’m still working on a pizza from Friday night. I don’t imagine I’ll be cooking again until Wednesday night. In the absence of cooking this weekend, I did manage to be super productive. I finally went through 5 months of Bon Appetit and catalogued the recipes so that I could finally rid myself of that monstrous stack.
I’ve also been working on a lot of special craft projects and I nearly finished the big one this weekend. There’s still black appliance epoxy up my nose from the box I painted last night and I was high as balls watching the Niners game, which is why I probably enjoyed it.
Saturday was also Symphony Night! It was performance #3 of my 5 performance series, so I grabbed my favorite audiophile Tina, and went out for dinner and an evening of music.
This was the first performance of the season where I didn’t wear a dress or skirt because it was snowy and cold, and brrrrr bitches! I initially intended to wear a skirt with some tights and ankle boots, but then I remembered Johi’s post about tights and I got scared. So I had to go to Kohls and buy a new ensemble instead. Oh, the Huge Manateeeeeee! I’m going to stop eating for a while.
Anyhoo… Tina is freaking hilarious. And as she gets more pregnant, she gets even more inappropriate and hilarious. Something about that pregnancy hormone turns her into a human honey badger, and she just don’t don’t give a fuck. Case in point – Tina hates cell phones. Or more specifically, she hates people who can’t separate themselves from their phones for more than 5 minutes at a time. So when we came back from intermission and the announcement was made to turn off our phones, a girl in the row in front of us took that to mean “keep texting.”
Tina got seriously indignant and said to me, loud enough for the dear little social butterfly to hear, “When did turn off your phone start meaning text as you wish. Stupid bitch.”
Me: “Do you want to move to the seat behind her so you can kick the back of her chair?”
Tina: “No, I can kick her in her inconsiderate head just fine from here.”
Other notable quotes from Tina:
“Cello players are wimps! You never see them in the marching band.”
*referring to a ticketholder in the seats next to ours who has a well documented history of flatulence during performances*: “He uses too much Irish Spring. He smells very soapy tonight. But it’s still better than farts.”
The performance itself was lovely. Debussy’s Iberia was first on the program. In my opinion, it wasn’t a bad representation of Spanish-Andalusian melody for a guy who only spent 10 hours in Spain for a bullfight once.
The featured solo violinist, Augustin Hadelich, despite being fodder for a lot of Phantom of the Opera posts from Tina, is incredibly talented and rad as shit to watch. His super quick fingers and overall passion for the instrument is a truly awe inspiring and wondrous thing to behold. His solo performance of Caprice #4 was nothing short of amazing and in that 4 minute piece, he more than made up for the 27 minutes of drudgery that was Prokofiev’s Second violin concerto.
I honestly don’t know what I expected from the Prokofiev. To his credit, the guy produced the same caliber of work as always, which is to say that the works always start out with striking melodies before retreating into a pnderously heavy and mind numbingly repetetive status quo.
Tchaikovsky’s “Little Russian” symphony, on the other hand, was pure delight, as are all of Tchaikovsky’s works. The piece is certainly a melodic journey from end to end. Each passage is reminiscent of a meandering progress which stops to enjoy each new locale for a bit before arriving at the final destination which is the finale to much fanfare and celebration. The difference between the Russian composers is just night and day, but I guess that’s what happpens when one composes during Russia’s golden era and the other composes under a murderous fuckhead’s communist nightmare.
On the whole, the night out was just what I needed, since I think I was overdue to let my inner snob out to play for a bit. And as usual, I’m sure I’ll pick my violin up more often for a while, at least until I get sick of my shitty strings again.
Happy Monday, mah peeps.