I spent yesterday afternoon watching the Robert Carsen production of Dvořák’s Rusalka. And waiting for FedEx, because I did a silly thing and assigned my grad students two books about the antebellum south that I have read, but that I do not own – and the library copies are on the reserve shelf for them, which meant that I needed to either borrow or buy the books so as to go over them myself before Monday, but the colleague I would borrow them from was using one herself and didn’t have the other, a fact that I conveniently forgot about until Friday morning. Fortunately there is such a thing as overnight from Amazon, but I feel like a real idiot paying that much for shipping. But I did. And now I have the books. And I guess that $17 shipping is just a kind of stupidity tax that will cause me not to do this again. . . maybe.
But the Dvořák was very nice, even if the FedEx guy did show up and startle me by banging on the door right when Rusalka (Renée Fleming) was all underwater and sad in Act III.