Scarlett Letters

1) Just saw the extraordinary Danny Boyle's Frankenstein at SIFF with EB and was completely blown away. If you have any chance to see this filmed version of the National Theater's production, do not pass GO, do not collect $200--go directly to see it. It's astonishing and you'll never think of Frankenstein the same way again.

2) It is really, really difficult to reassimilate into the real world when you've had a fabulous weekend. I'm still not entirely here.

3) I'm so behind on so many projects right now. I need to fix this.

4) I need to make a post about PostCrossing at some point. I want to share some of the beautiful postcards I've received as a result of my participation.

5) I need to join a gym again. Being diligent about tracking my points isn't enough at this point in my weight-loss journey. I need to start working my body, not just my self-discipline and my head now.

Had a lovely evening. Went to the one Moisture Festival show I'm going to get to this year, a comedie/variete event at the Georgetown Ballroom in the company of e_bourne, varina8, shelly_rae, and MD. Acts included a couple of comics, a musical comic (or a comical musician--one way or the other, he was very good), an aerial artist, a terrific juggler, a tap dancer, and a bubble master. The cast had a high percentage of Jewish performers leaning heavily on Jewish humor, which I of course appreciated. ("A mitzvah is a good deed. A bar mitzvah is buying a lady a drink.") I laughed a lot. It was just the thing for this evening.

It's the first time in a very long time that I'm grateful that it's Friday. Wow. I'm so ready to fall over. In fact, I think I'll go do that now.

Books: Yesterday I finally finished reading The Life of Elizabeth I by Alison Weir, a detailed, almost novelistic biography of Henry VIII's daughter. The depth and breadth of Weir's research is remarkable (as has been true of all of her work that I've read), and the narrative very engaging. I was impressed by the day-to-day minutiae, the political analysis, and the effective way that Weir conveyed the personalities of all the historical figures she discusses. Her portraits of Elizabeth, Leicester, and Essex are vivid and make these people and their concerns feel immediate and contemporary. It's a wonderful portrait and a really remarkable read.

Theater: Went to ACT last night to see The Flying Karamazov Brothers. I've seen them several times over the years and they never fail to entertain. I've seen them enough that some of their bits were familiar. There were the classics: The Challenge, The Terror Trick, the table bounce, and the peculiar dance. And there were things I'd never seen before, like their pulling someone from the audience and juggling flaming torches around them. Some (but not all) of their musical bits were new. There's always some moment in the show when I find myself laughing so hard that I cry; no disappointments last night on that score. I laughed--a lot. I had a wonderful time. At the same time, because I've seen them so much that I pretty much knew what I'd be seeing, I don't know if I'll be seeing them again. I know the bits already. I'd still recommend their shows to anyone who has a chance to see them--they're marvelous. But it may be my last FKB show.

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Today, I need to prepare for this afternoon's interview, try to get some writing done, and then go out for dinner. It seems like a light to-do list, but there's a lot of stuff packed into those three tasks. I want to write here more about what's been going on with the writing. I am . . . feeling frustrated about it. But now's not the time. Must get rolling on the day's activities. More anon.

I've been wanting to post about the NY trip since I returned. With my health being what it's been, that's been nearly impossible. I've had no focus and significant trouble breathing. I decided that tonight, regardless of health, I wanted to post at least about the highlights.

I've already posted about my days with my brother and sister-in-law, the grand day out with my niece, my brother's special holiday gift, and my arrival in Riverdale.

Here's a picture from Christmas morning with my brother. He and my sister-in-law gave me both the book we're looking at and that gorgeous pashmina draped around my shoulders. The book is a collection of photographs by the remarkable and previously unknown Vivian Maier, whose work you should become familiar with if you have any interest in photography whatsoever. Her story is compelling and her work is beautiful.



After settling at suricattus's place, I met Betsy Mitchell to stroll through Central Park and to have tea one afternoon. That was delightful; I just love her to bits.

setsyoustraight joined me in town for two days, and we took the town by storm, hitting the American Museum of Natural History for what was ultimately a rather disappointing visit (though I ran into Ann Crispin, Michael Capobianco, and Victoria Strauss while we were there, a lovely surprise). We made up for it by doing some thrift shopping, having a terrific dinner, and seeing Alan Rickman and Jerry O'Connell in "Seminar," which kradical has rather effectively reviewed. We then stayed after the show to meet-and-greet with the actors. I got my playbill signed by every member of the cast. And here's a picture:



Friday evening, I met kradical, girasole and wrenn for dinner at Mario's on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx and some of the most delicious Italian food I've ever had. What a wonderful evening out we had together. It was a delight to see them all; I just wish our visit could have lasted longer.

On New Year's Eve I spent some blissful time at the New York Public Library doing genealogical research. I swear, someday I'm going to do a trip back east specifically for research purposes and no other reason so I can just ensconce myself with the microfilm readers and dig away. I enjoyed my time there so much, and got just enough information to be satisfied.

Then I wended my way downtown to meet a couple of girlfriends for New Year's celebrations at a Cuban restaurant. The food was delicious, a menu of dishes I'd never had before, and we had a wonderful time together.

Then I got food poisoning.

I worked hard to get well over the next day and a half, and though I had to cancel my next couple of meal engagements (among them my meeting with herself_nyc, regrettably), I was well enough to have dinner with my friend Edward Marchese, another wonderful Italian meal, this time at Il Corallo in the south Village. Ed and I haven't seen each other in about 12 years, and he's just as delightful as I remember him being in person. It was a great way to wrap up the trip.

Tonight, shellyinseattle treated me to a ticket to Rogers and Hammerstein's "Cinderella" at the 5th Avenue Theater. I loved this musical as a child, watching the television production starring Leslie Ann Warren every year, so when Shelly offered it as a holiday gift, I was delighted to accept. It was also to be her 5-year-old daughter's very first theater experience (and little Miss H wore a very pretty pink princess dress for the evening), so it was an extra special evening.

This production had an updated book and, taking a page from the 1997 television version (which starred Brandy), the music included a couple of songs from other Richard Rogers musicals (which explained why I didn't remember a song or two in the production). All this made the show fresh and vibrant, and provided me with a new take on something I've loved my whole life. The production itself was sumptuous--sets, costumes, and special effects all quite fine, with some of the quickest costume changes I've ever seen. And of course, the 5th Avenue itself is such a beautiful, historic venue (where, among other things, "Hairspray" premiered) that it was bound to be, as the musical says, a lovely night.

Shelly and her daughter knew someone in the cast, and I was delighted to discover that I knew someone in the cast, too, a fellow I used to work with long ago at Expedia. Particular standouts in the show were the actresses who played the step-sisters--hammy, funny, and wonderful fun--but everyone in the cast was strong, and it all allowed me to just immerse myself in the music and the pageantry. It was really quite magical.

Of course, the old cynic in me kept popping up its little head toward the end of the play offering editorial comment on "happily ever after." I stuck a rag in its mouth and shoved in it a closet. It's not coming out until morning.

I had a wonderful time, as did Shelly and Miss H, and I could not have enjoyed myself more.

On Saturday night, I attended a live performance of the Rocky Horror Show at Re-Bar. The first ad that I saw for this show included the tagline, "This isn't your daddy's Rocky," and it gave me pause, as I mentioned last week. Having seen the play, I'm here to tell you that they weren't kidding. I knew it was going to be truly different as soon as I saw Riff Raff shooting up during "Over at the Frankenstein Place."

Yeah.

The Schoolyard's production of the Rocky Horror Show puts the "horror" back. It's a mad, bad, and dangerous production, edgy and dark, full of overt sexuality and a much stronger through-line for Frank 'n' Furter than the film ever had. It's a punk rock pastiche of burlesque and B-movie bad-ass, with a dash of full frontal in case you weren't sure anyone was actually having sex.

The cast boasted some true stand-outs, especially Josh Hartvigson as Frank 'n' Furter, both the most dangerous and the most vulnerable Frank I've ever seen on screen or on stage (and I've seen two other live performances over the years besides the 75+ times I've seen the film). He's charismatic, in your face and in your bed, as ready to whip out a machete as he is his pointedly pointy black leather codpiece. His songs aren't just songs, they're challenges, threats, growls at the audience. He makes you believe that he's capable of bloody murder, rape, and cannibalism, and still makes Frank uncomfortably sympathetic. Hartvigson works his ass off and it's worth every second to see it. Andrew Murray plays Riff Raff as isolated, rejected, and solitary, angry about being ignored by Frank, resentful at his place in the castle, and consoled only by his sister. At the end when he cries, "They never liked me!" it's a crie de couer and you actually believe it, a line that never really resonated in the film. Tadd Morgan and Monica Wulzen as Brad and Janet are strong in roles that aren't inherently likeable--at least not to me. Wulzen is winsome; Morgan's performance of "Once in a While" is a great illustration of hypocrisy and angst all rolled into one, and hilarious given, um, how it's performed.

It's a loud and raucous production, angry and truly terrifying in spots, and somewhere along the way I found myself thinking that there's a lot more going on here than just a send-up of old horror/sci-fi flicks. Toward the end when Riff tells Frank that his lifestyle is too extreme, I realized that in a show that, on the surface, celebrates alternative lifestyles, there's a statement being made that sometimes too much really is too much, that a little self-examination really is good for the soul, and that it's one thing to parody a genre and another thing to create relevant satire--and that's what this production does. With its bare-bones set, its bare-boned performances, and its burlesque/punk costuming, it achieves more than just entertainment; it has something to say about the choices we make and the people we are when we make them.

The show's weaknesses were few: Eddie's appearance was fast and without context (which is a weakness of the script as much as it is of staging--which was odd in a production that made sense of so many other things that are unclear or cleaned up for an R-rating in the film), the music was so loud that it sometimes overwhelmed the vocals (that's a result of bad sound mixing), and at one point at least one speaker blew out, giving some of the vocals a broken-up quality that made lyrics harder to understand.

But the band was strong, the supporting players mostly on their game, and the Re-Bar itself was the perfect venue for this raunchy, relevant production. It's playing every Friday and Saturday night through November 19. Don't expect or plan for audience participation--the venue is too intimate to make it safe and the play too fast-paced to allow time for interjection--which was right and appropriate. Prepare for a true theater experience; only Frank 'n' Furter can break that fourth wall, and he will, in all his seductive, penetrative glory. I strongly suggest you see this show if you can--especially if you're a Rocky Horror aficionado. This show makes my beloved movie look like a romp through Marshmallowland. It doesn't ruin the film; it just gives you a whole different perspective and--I promise--you'll never look at it the same way again.

I've been doing a pretty good job of keeping myself entertained and distracted. Here are notes, thoughts, and reviews of some of my distractions:

Contagion: Went to see this thriller about a pandemic on a weekday. The cast, on its face, was stellar: Gwyneth Platrow, Matt Damon, Laurence Fishburn, Jude Law, Marion Cotillard, Kate Winslet, and so many more, directed by the estimable Steven Soderbergh. I'd heard nothing but good things about the film and was looking forward to it. Mostly what I got was a solid, well-made, step-by-step chronicle of a worldwide pandemic as experienced through the eyes of some epidemiologists, a father and daughter, and a conspiracy theorist blogger. The most memorable of these characters was the last, portrayed in an obsessive sweat by Jude Law. His was the only character given enough material to really make an impression, and he's not a character created for the audience to invest itself in. In fact, it's the character actors who make the greatest mark in this movie, like John Hawkes, who plays Roger the CDC custodian, concerned for his kid's health. Damon as the protective father whose wife is patient zero is sympathetic but forgettable. Laurence Fishburn as the main investigator at the CDC is memorable mainly because he's Laurence Fishburn and therefore always memorable. Everyone else plays their roles well but is not given much material to dig into. This movie felt more like a chronicle than a story, and while it's quite good, making the most commonplace interactions fraught with communicable peril--touching a bus handrail, a doorknob, a coffee mug--I didn't find anything special about it, and with no one in whom to invest oneself, the audience is treated to storytelling without emotional risk.

Live! From the Last Night of My Life: On the subject of emotional risk, however, this original play presented at Theater Schmeater, one of Seattle's best small companies, is fearless. It's 1999, just before the internet boom. Doug Sample (Ryan Higgins) is a convenience store clerk, a former Amazon warehouse employee, good with computers but not with fulfilling his potential. This night, he comes into work with one very clear plan: at the end of his shift, he's going to kill himself. Over the next two hours--the course of his shift--we follow Doug as he recollects his life and the most important people in it, both real and imaginary, reflecting about how he got to this improbable place and time. An ensemble cast of eight other actors play the customers, friends, and family who people Doug's last hours in a funny, poignant, insightful production that may be the best thing I've ever seen at the Schmee. Ryan Higgins is the astonishing heart of the show, appealing, honest, vulnerable, angry, frustrated and always teetering on the edge of the redemption. I found his performance riveting--but the whole cast is consistently strong, and one of the hardest working casts performing in Seattle right now, each playing several roles throughout the evening, roles that include singing, dancing, and roller skating. Wayne Rawley's script--and his direction--is sharp and perceptive. It nails the vibe of the '90s and the dreams and faults of that generation very well. The production is one of the most elaborate I've ever seen at the Schmee. You walk into the theater and it's unnervingly like walking into the local 7-11, a full immersion experience from the moment you enter. If you live in the Seattle area, I strongly recommend you see the show. Unfortunately, tonight and tomorrow are your last opportunities. Don't waste them. Go see this play. (In case you're curious, I'm not the only one who felt this way: The Stranger | Seattlest | The Seattle Times | Queen Anne News) (Seen with the lovely varina8)

My Fair Lady: The Cinerama is winding up its The Big Screen 70mm Festival this weekend. It looks like the only film I'm going to get to see was this one--the Rex Harrison/Audrey Hepburn realization of the Lerner and Loewe musical based on George Bernard Shaw's play. It's absolutely grand on the big screen. The music is lush, the costumes are marvelous, and Harrison and Hepburn are delicious as Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle. Nothing wrong, everything right with this production--except for that damned ending, with Eliza returning to Henry. The older I get, the more it rankles, the less right it feels. My partner-in-crime for the evening, ironymaiden, felt much the same way. It's flawed because it's not true to Eliza. As Miss Maiden said, there's no guarantee that, after the curtain falls, things will go well with Higgins and Doolittle, and every reason to believe it will end rather badly. This is not a happy ending. And honestly, seeing Jeremy Brett (better known for playing Sherlock Holmes) as Freddy Eynsford-Hill, young and gorgeous and attentively waiting for Eliza, one must wonder what she's thinking when she chooses boorish, selfish, self-satisfied Higgins instead. It's frustrating, because it's so obviously a product of the period in which the movie--and the musical--was made. I'd like to rewrite that second act, leaving it truer to Shaw's original. It would be truer to Eliza's growth as a character and, conveniently, to today's sensibilities.

Book: Mary Todd Lincoln: A Biography by Jean H. Baker
In a meticulously researched and footnoted account, Jean Baker presents Mary Todd Lincoln not as a the crazed shrew who plagued a great American president (as so many male historians would have her), but as a sympathetic, well-educated, ambitious woman several times stricken by loss and grief and too independent for the times in which she lived. The biography is thorough in not only its portrayal of its subject but of the era in which it is set, putting Mrs. Lincoln in her context on her own terms. Slowly stripped of family, she spent most of her life trying to compensate for her losses whether via traveling, shopping, or spiritualism. When her independence and her attempts to console herself proved inconvenient to her one surviving son (as politically ambitious as his mother), he punished her unwomanly autonomy by paying doctors to testify to her insanity and putting her away. Ultimately she defeated his efforts, liberating herself physically, legally, and financially from his grip, first exiling herself to Europe, and then returning to America and a death among what little family she had left. Baker's account is riveting, rich with historical detail, and brings Mrs. Lincoln to life in all her vivacious, intelligent, and aggressive but broken glory. Highly recommended.

Theater: A Lie of the Mind by Sam Shepard at ACT, presented by Collektor
The inaugural production by this new theater company, A Lie of the Mind is Shepard's intense, difficult play about what happens when Jake, convinced his wife Beth is cheating on him, beats her so thoroughly that she suffers brain damage as a result. The play follows Beth's recovery and Jake's disintegration, each in the context of their respective families. No, it's not exactly a cheerful evening's worth of entertainment. The production is, however, a thoughtful presentation, well-produced if unevenly directed and acted.

I thought the strongest performances by far came from Aimée Bruneau as Beth, struggling with a brain that no longer functions the way it used to, and Eric Riedmann as her brother Mike, devoted, protective, and anguished at what's become of his sister. Bruneau brings dignity and grace to her role, and I found her performance riveting. Riedman's Mike was, to me, by far the most sympathetic character on stage, and his raw grief at what's happened to his sister felt more honest than almost any other portrayal of the night. Theirs were the only performances of the evening that always felt true and direct, never scripted, always authentic. Everyone else in the cast seemed to go from feeling thoroughly polished to feeling as though they were "performing," each having moments where I felt as though they were a little self-conscious. (This was especially true in a scene that would be a dream for most actresses--a mother and daughter poring over family mementos as they prepare to leave town.) Ray Tagavilla's performance as Jake is intense and thorough, with his deep voice and raw physical presence, but every now and then, that self-consciousness seemed to seep through. Moments that should have been funny felt "funny;" in other words, they were clearly written to be funny, but missed the mark, and as the evening progressed, I felt like the actors were reaching for the humor in the script, especially Joe Ivy as Baylor, Beth's father. I recognized the character, a man who wants to live A Man's Life, plagued by the women around him, and the shame of it is that Ivy is a good actor, but I never felt like his connections with the others on stage was complete. I don't think this was his fault, necessarily; sometimes I felt like the actors weren't always interpreting the material from the same perspective, and this is a directorial issue, not solely an actor's issue.

I felt like the second act was the strongest, the most cohesive, focusing on Beth and Jake and their key relationships. The third act veered away from the through-line for me, giving us more background about the families, but not in an especially interesting way. And while the intention of the third act seemed to be to show how families cope by not coping, it felt to me as though it just scattered. I suspect this had more to do with direction and interpretation than the script itself. Reading about other productions, I find myself wondering about lost opportunities in this production, an ambitious one certainly, with great aspirations that were often, but not completely, realized. (Seen in the good company of varina8.)

Movie: My Afternoons with Marguerite
I saw trailers for this film during SIFF and wasn't able to see it due to conflicting schedules, so I was pleased to be able to catch it in distribution. It's the sweet if slight story of Germain (Gerard Depardieu), an illiterate working-class man, who by chance meets the frail but gracious Margueritte (the misspelling is deliberate and is a point in dialog), 95 years young with a love of books, on a park bench one afternoon. Margueritte introduces Germain to books and reading, and Germain provides the indulgent, affectionate company that Margueritte's family isn't interested in providing. There's not much more to it than this, an improbable, chaste romance between two characters who are at once stock figures and yet peculiarly their own. It's a pleasant pass time and I enjoyed it. (Seen with the charming and talented katatomic with whom I clearly need to spend more time.)

I spent Thursday with setsyoustraight, a friend I've known since high school. If it's true that friends help you move, but that true friends help you move bodies, then she falls into the latter category. If I can be said to have a sister, she's the first woman (and one of a rare few) who I'd describe this way. Because we bear a certain resemblance to each other, on occasion we've been mistaken for same. So I'd been rather thoroughly looking forward to Thursday.

Beyond the uber-priority of spending time with each other, we had two other priorities: visiting a museum and seeing a show.

We started the day by heading to the Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria, Queens, located in the neighborhood where I lived for many years. The reason: Years ago, setsyoustraight put together a consortium of Babylon 5 fans to purchase the prosthetic that Andreas Katsulas wore as the character G'kar in the show. Once we acquired the piece, we donated it to the museum. I wrote about the project here; the museum site tells the story in some detail, including a picture of the piece. I'd never seen the mask up close; setsyoustraight hadn't seen it in situ at the museum. We were met at the desk by a museum representative, given free access to the exhibits, and shown directly to the display. The museum itself is beautiful, located in a new, white building with a clean, modern sensibility. The exhibit is on the second floor, the prosthetic displayed with several other well-known face prosthetics, mostly out of genre films, including pieces from Star Wars, The Mask, and Enemy Mine. It's in excellent company. We took pictures of ourselves with the display (and the caption, which included all of our names) and then toured the whole museum, which is a really nice record of the evolution of TV and movies as we know them today. We saw wonderful artifacts, including a set of four costumes from "Chicago," a dress worn by Glenn Close as the Marquise de Merteuil in "Dangerous Liaisons," set drawing and models from several films, the head-spinning mannequin of Regan from "The Exorcist," and so much more. We also danced in front of a camera that produced flip books; I came away with a flip book of me dancing, looking almost like an early movie. I also came away with a tee shirt and some other little souvenirs.

From there, we walked several blocks over to Broadway and strolled the neighborhood. This area is where I lived for about 7 years when I lived in Queens, a Greek-Italian neighborhood that was safe and clean and very pleasant. I loved living there. I was pleased to see so many of the businesses I remember still open and apparently thriving. We stopped at the building where I used to live--which looks well-maintained. Then we had a delicious Greek lunch at Ariada, spanikopita to die for. Our last local stop was Parisi Brothers Bakery, situated at the foot of the Broadway Station on the N line. I remember going to work early in the morning, getting to the station, and breathing in air full of the smell of fresh-baked bread. It was a wonderful scent. We walked in, tasted sugar-powdered air, and I ordered just two cookies for a snack: shell-shaped butter cookies dipped in chocolate that I saved for later. Such bounty--those lovely, Italian butter cookies taste like nothing else on the planet!

We were fortunate in that, after days of drizzle and wind, the sun came out and gave us a beautiful day. Once our business in Astoria was complete, we took the train the length of Manhattan for the next thing we really wanted to do. We got off at Chambers Street Station; I ate my cookies, and then we headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge. I've never walked across the bridge, so it seemed like the perfect day to give it a try. Predictably, in such lovely weather, foot traffic was thick but not uncomfortable or overwhelming. The views were fabulous and getting out from between the concrete canyons was refreshing. Ultimately, not really wanting to go to Brooklyn, we walked halfway across the bridge, lolled about enjoying the views and the weather, and then turned back to Manhattan.

We had dinner at a Mexican place near my hotel, where the flank steak was delicious and the busman (because he wasn't a boy in any respect) told me I looked like a TV star and said he'd ask me out except that he's a good, faithful boyfriend. :-)

The evening's entertainment was to attend a performance of The Book of Mormon, the new musical by the creators of South Park and the composer who scored Avenue Q, at the Eugene O'Neill Theater. I've never followed South Park much, though I've seen isolated episodes. Mostly I came away finding it profane and a little distasteful, though admittedly very funny. "The Book of Mormon" was getting such good reviews, though, that when setsyoustraight suggested it, I had to admit that I wanted to see it. We couldn't have made a better choice. The show follows two young Mormons on their mission to Africa, the wake-up call they get out in the wide world, and how they deal with the challenges they encounter. True to form, Matt Stone and Trey Parker deliver a profane, hilarious product, but they also deliver a real story in which people grow and change, in which political and religious issues are examined and overturned, and that is genuinely (if occasionally mortifyingly) entertaining. As Jon Stewart said of the show, it manages to satirize and celebrate religion at the same time. It's sweet and funny and remarkably insightful. I laughed so hard at some points that I cried. The music is terrific: lively, catchy, and memorable. It was, in short, a great evening and I'd recommend it wholeheartedly. That said, it's a show that really is a product of its time, and I wonder about its ultimate fate. I'm sure it will run for quite some time, but I'm not sure it's something that will survive and be revived 30 years from now. Time will tell, certainly. I'd be delighted to see it come back the way great musicals do. I'll be watching.

(I've linked to these before, but here are the pictures from Thursday.)

Spent the weekend in Portland visiting davidlevine and kateyule (with bonus camillealexa thrown in).

Arrived Friday after a long-than-usual drive (traffic accidents and downpours conspired against me, but I was victorious). My hosts offered up a delicious stew for dinner, and we then spent the evening playing Scrabble.

Saturday, we had brunch with their friends D and B at Bread and Ink Cafe. I had possibly the prettiest omelet I've ever been presented with (though I admit that the next day's was tastier). There was much discussion of Weight Watchers since kateyule and I are doing the program, and B and D are lifetime members. I liked the cafe a great deal. D and B were charming. It was a lovely way to start the day. We followed up breakfast by poking in and out of a couple of shops on Hawthorne. I picked up some beads at the bead shop; we stopped into a used DVD and CD place where I picked up a copy of The Ghost and the Darkness for cheap. The afternoon was quiet, with napping, writing, and chatting.

For dinner Saturday evening we went to Andina, where we had delicious Peruvian tapas. We rounded out the evening by attending "Jack Goes Boating" at Artists Repertory Theater. It was a fine production and a really sweet play. I knew nothing about it before we went. It's the story of Jack, a sweet if socially awkward limo driver, his friends Clyde and Lucy (and their troubled marriage), and what happens when they introduce him to Connie, herself a little socially backward. When Connie expresses a desire to go boating with Jack in the summer, Jack panics because he doesn't know how to swim. When Connie misinterprets his invitation to dinner as a promise to cook a meal, he panics because he can't cook. Clyde promises to teach him to swim, and introduces him to a cooking teacher--and the play takes off from there. It was a feel-good evening, and I couldn't have been more delighted.

On Sunday, we took a half-hour walk and met camillealexa for an early lunch at Circa 33, where the food was inexpensive and outrageously good. I shared a mushroom omelet with Camille. The mushrooms were prepared with garlic in truffle oil and herbs, and made the omelet a transcendent experience. I wish I could have eaten more, but half plus some potatoes was really just enough. We walked a bit more, had more quiet time at home, and then I hit the road.

I stopped at the Centralia Outlet Mall (specifically Dress Barn Woman) looking for something to wear for tomorrow evening's gala excursion with e_bourne and markbourne. I did find a dress that I liked well enough to purchase, though it's not especially gala-ish. It may be more appropriate for my brother's wedding (in which case, I need to try on some stuff in the back of my closet for tomorrow evening). It's a sweet black-and-white dress with a flared skirt, thick black waist band, and a little black bolero jacket--very Mad Men. For the wedding, I'd actually prefer something with colors rather than black and white, so I may not stick with this, but it could do nicely.

Got home around 6ish last night, well pleased with the weekend. Was I ready for the week? Well, am I ever ready for Monday?