What's up, Clauds? is a new series that chronicles the funny, off wall, and sometimes reflective experiences of Claudia, a Simmons Student just trying to make it to her next class.
November, November, how I loathe thee.
November is a hard month. November means Thanksgiving, football, family, and the light at the end of the fall semester tunnel...but getting there means slogging through group project upon group project, paper upon paper, exam upon exam, and the chill that starts to creep and settle into your bones; for surely, winter is coming and there is no escape.
This November has been particularly distressing thus far; I've been in bed sick for the past week with a vicious "virus" (translation: we have no idea what's wrong with you, we know that you're practically coughing up a lung and your blood pressure is abysmally low, but you're not currently dying so...sorry, can't help you) and as I write this post I am, naturally, neglecting the assignments that have piled up during my absence.
There's one assignment I haven't neglected, however; for one of my classes (more on this later, I promise), I was required to write a critique on a professional dance performance. Perhaps knowing that I needed an advanced lesson in fine art, the Boston Ballet scheduling gods smiled upon me - the masterfully redone Swan Lake has been showing at the Opera House all November.
The Boston Ballet, being a nonprofit organization, has wonderful incentives for the community that I will shamelessly plug for the rest of my life: namely, student rush tickets. $20 gets you whatever seats are left in the house at 2 hours before showtime, and they are often fantastic ones - for last year's Nutcracker performance, my friends and I had rush tickets that were worth well over $200 each. Unfortunately, Swan Lake's (and principal dancer Misa Kuranaga's) popularity meant that I dragged myself out of my sickbed for nothing on Thursday night; it was sold out minutes before rush. My friend and I made the valiant trek downtown the next day, and we (finally!) scored tickets. They were the nosebleeds of the nosebleed seats (to explain this reference - nosebleed seats in football stadiums are so high above the field that you get a nosebleed from the dryness of the thin air), but there are no terrible seats at the Opera House.