Thaïs @ the Met
I went to the opera last night. And you know what? Thaïs was fine being a rich, giggly, golden courtesan until some dreadlocked, hairshirt-wearing religious dandy decided she needed to become a nun, so he dragged her halfway across the desert, ruined her feet, cried on her a little (while chiming in on an oh-so-exquisite duet about fruits and water), and then dropped her at a convent to die. And guess what happened when he found out she was dying? He dragged himself back across the desert to say "Just kidding!" and "LMAO" about the whole thing, and to tell her she should live because "I love you now!" What an asshole! So of course she died.
God, I love the opera. It's the one place people can still be legitimately bananas and over-the-top these days, and get applause for it, and there are always Germans sitting behind you who shout "That was beautiful" real loud to each other just as the curtain is falling and you're wiping away an inevitable tear, thereby wrenching you back into the real world way before you're ready. But these are the same people you plow right over on your way back up the steps, which is the universe's way of righting itself.