The sun harmonizes my moon.

A dreamy creamy goodness fills the day.

Thank god for the magic in the air, to keep my head floating above the clouds, as this could have been the day I lost it and broke out the Uzi. There is no fixable human flaw more repellent to me than B.O., an assault so powerful that it drives me to instant and utter repulsion. Also, when coupled with obnoxious and entitled behavior, even worst. Today, I attended my first Wagner opera at the MET — 5.5 hours of stark drama and heavy emotion. Who the hell do I get seated next to for this entire extravaganza? A large, sweaty, underdressed, smelly, serious opera enthusiast poured partially into my seat, leaving me squished and gasping for fresh air. At the beginning, I considered leaving. After all, I wasn't equipped with a gas mask and ten tanks of compassion to deal — but this was the opera, so I tried to have some composure, some couth and certain level of diplomacy. Besides, my cheery little attitude wasn’t going to let me down.

However, for over the entire course of the evening, I was scooted to the edge of my seat, doubled over, trying to stay in an air current free of the stench. Every too often, when I did catch it, I’d try to convince my brain it was like being in an old library — but nothing was having it and my resilience was breaking down. Plus, it got worst as the evening went on and every time he went to lift his tiny little binoculars to his large and meaty head, the odor from underneath his pits would plume. Disgusting. To top it off, he had the audacity to tell me to, "Stop it," when I was briefly looking for a mint in my bag — after over 5 hours of constant bombardment of the odiousness of his body smelling like it was rotting from inside out. Seriously, all I have to say if I wasn’t high on what was circulating in the air today, there could have been a beat down in the nosebleed section of the MET. If anything, it is true, suffering and staying throughout the performance is a total testament of Wagner’s intensity, but if only he could of also included, “Practice good hygiene or die,” as subliminal messages in his opera, it would have been just that more divine. Bravo!