It's been a tumultuous week. I don't really want to go into any of the details, but I feel shat on. All my friends have been great, but I could still use all the positive energy that you can send my way.

I've adopted/coined a new word: dickish. Use it in a sentence today!

I'd love to post pics of my current knitting projects, but the fear that people might recognize their presents prevents it. I flatter myself in thinking that anyone reads Reciprocity Failure, I know. Actually, a google search for my "real name" + theatre pulled up a link to this site. I digress. Perhaps I will put together a gallery of arty, abstract photographs of my knitting. Only a genius would know that the carefully photoshopped to look like it was shot on a 4x5 plate pic of chunky moss stitch is a cushion. I've said too much.

Today was not the best day for travel. Well, there weren't any broken electric cables (that was last week), but I walked all over the loop to use one of my bank's ATMs and get a CTA day pass. I refuse to call it a fun pass. Public transportation isn't my idea of a good time. All this to go to a passementerie shop. Trim sounds so much more elegant in French. The store is much like the trim shops in London and Paris, full of many beautiful, expensive things. Several of which I purchased. I went there to buy a yard of ribbon to trim a hat (xmas present) and ended up buying four yards of various lovely, imported ribbons and an enameled button for a planned sweater. It's unclear when I will get to make that sweater (see previous post), but I couldn't pass up a perfect color match. That's nearly impossible in greens.

My coworkers must think that I am a grande dame in training. I'm always off to the theatre, the ballet, the opera. Picture also vampish red lipstick, a fur coat, and cigarette case. Maybe it's more dame than dame! I went to my first opera in the Lyric season, Iphigenie en Tauride. It was incredible. The set and all of the costumes were black, all shades of black. the staging was very modern, stark but effective. I was especially touched when Iphigenie erased her name from the rear wall while singing an aria about having lost everything. My mother was less impressed than I. It's funny, considering that she introduced me to opera, that I am more into it now. Well, maybe not more of a fan, but more interested in the less traditional stagings. It could be generational, or because I am such a theatre person. Opera has much more interesting, exciting design than theatre these days. Opera does it on a grand scale, with a grand budget to match.

Last night, I went to see the Kirov dance Swan Lake. For free. It was sensational. The Kirov has such a perfect corps de ballet, such incredible principles, and wonderful technique. Their costumes were lovely, especially the long sheer skirts in the ball and court scenes. It was all loveliness, really, especially after that glass of champagne during the first intermission.

Oh, the Kirov, the Joffrey, the Lyric, the Goodman! It brings to mind the time that I went to see American Ballet Theatre dance Gisele a couple of years ago. There I was, all sweaty from a day of pounding the pavement in Manhattan, in jeans and chiffon, surrounded by women in gowns, dripping in jewels. Hell, I wanted to applaud when they flew out the chandeliers before the show. Oh, how nice it would be to go to the symphony and the ballet and the opera, to marry some generous older gentleman and only take cabs everywhere, I thought. Well, I can do all of those things for myself. I need to be that person who went to Paris alone in my everyday life. I need to find a reason to stay instead of reasons to go. All of those middle of the night thoughts.