Morgan Goes to the Opera, Tries to Be Classy

Sound: "Get Back" by the Beatles

Last night, I went to the opera. Not just any opera, but the Royal Opera House. This event took several days of preparation. First, I had to go buy a dress. Then I had to call my mom and ask for accessory advice, because I just don't accessorize (fun fact: flowers in your hair, while cute, are not opera appropriate). Then I had to go buy shoes, because for whatever reason, when I packed for London, I decided that it was not necessary to bring a pair of plain black pumps. After putting together a lovely outfit, I had to review opera etiquette, figure out the best possible way to get myself to Covent Garden, and perfect my opera night game plan. I was ready.

And then it rained. Rain, dresses, and black pumps do not mix well. I was unsure of my ability to remain upright on dry ground, much less slippery cobblestones. At 4:00pm, I had two and a half hours to get changed and get to the ROH, and it was still raining. This was not acceptable. "STOP RAINING!" I shouted to the sky, "I AM MORGAN, COMMANDER OF ALL THAT IS GLITTERY AND UNICORN-RELATED, AND I SAY THAT RAIN IS NOT PERMITTED UNTIL 11:00PM THIS EVENING!" I wasn't sure if this would work, but it was worth a try. I went into my flat, changed, and nervously exited.

The rain had stopped. Morgan: 1, Weather: 0.

The opera itself was wonderful. My friend Aaron was on the mailing list for ROH, so he was able to get us amazing seats (stalls circle, which is basically the back of what Americans call the orchestra section) for 10 pounds. These seats are normally 175 pounds. Score. In addition to our fantastic seats, the production was breathtaking. We saw Romeo et Juliette, by Charles Gounod. Surprisingly, I was able to get the gist of maybe half of it without reading the supertitles (it's a French opera). Perhaps this means I'll pass French next semester? However, as enjoyable as the opera was, I was slightly on edge throughout. See, this wasn't just opera, it was London opera. And it wasn't just London opera, it was Royal Opera House London opera. I was very concerned about my behavior, because, as much as I love opera, I do not love the diva complex that some singers tend to get. I just think it gets ridiculous and is a rather tacky display of vanity. So, sometimes I end up laughing when I'm not supposed to (like when the diva from Madama Butterfly DROPPED the kid she was holding so that she could get to the conductor more quickly).

I have to say, I did pretty well, up until the bows. That's when I kind of lost it. Romeo came out (for his third solo bow) and just started going crazy, blowing about a million kisses to the audience, bowing approximately twenty times, and (my personal favorite) clutching his breast with his eyes closed as though he was having a heart attack. I just couldn't keep it in any longer; I cracked up. The other opera goers started at me and Aaron pretended not to know me. But it's all good, because, hey, I was happy.

And I was still clapping, so that's sort of polite. Right?

Peace out, cubscouts.

P.S. Registration was this week. Ithaca's registration website, Homerconnect, is truly evil and strikes fear in the hearts of students everywhere. Someone at IC decided to personify Homer (as we call it), and made a twitter account for it (NOTE: NOT FOR CHILDREN). Enjoy: http://twitter.com/homerconnect.