Fête, Part Two

It seems that, much like Dr. Faust himself, while I was walking about the countryside (at Boscobel), I brought something home (though it wasn't a poodle) that transformed/manifested itself into a Mephistopheles-like devil of a sinus infection. I've spent nearly the whole of Saturday ingesting dose after dose of benadryl, plowing through box after box of Kleenex and sleeping hour after hour. Even my teeth hurt.

As a result of my infirmity, J and I did not drive the two hours to Tanglewood to see La Damnation de Faust; I'm crestfallen. Disconsolate.

We had already arranged babysitting, so it seemed improvident not to follow through with some sort of outing (in spite of my unfortunate sinus infection). Instead, we drove twenty minutes to a nearby movie theatre and watched The Borne Ultimatum. Matt Damon is hardly an acceptable substitute for Goethe's Faust, but at least the numerous, loud action scenes masked my strident nose blowings.

Though I know J would never wish me ill, I'm sure he's somewhat contented that he wasn't forced to endure a mezzo soprano sing Gretchen's lamentations in French.

J was absolved from a gift, but in light of the fact we couldn't go to the opera, I may have to ammend his offering of a card to include a pint of Ben and Jerry's. What a deal considering no soul is required!