Today I made my way downtown to the Detroit Opera House, to see the ballet Romeo & Juliet. It was utterly fantastic, and is now my second-favorite ballet (nothing will ever top Giselle). I loved the costumes, the lighting, the dancing, and all the gut-wrenching angst.
These poor people. Just look at the carnage!
I mean, nothing good ever comes of these stories. People get stabbed, poisoned, heartbroken, banished, forced into arranged marriages, and screwed over by love. Sometimes they become angry ghosts and seek vengeance on any man who comes their way. Good grief. And here I thought I had it bad. At least I've never woken up on a stone slab in a crypt with the dead body of my beloved collapsed next to me. How would you explain that in therapy?
Things really could be so much worse.
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