Off to the Center Stage in Flatiron to meet Jim, Dagfinn, Gab and Colin to see the new Vampire Cowboys production, Men of Steel (sneak peek here).



Pre-show at Taj, with special guest Ellie, whose email reads, "It's payday & it's beautiful out. Anybody wanna go get a drink after work?" That about sums it up.





Post-show at...the enormous Belgian place on the corner (name?).
[edit 5/19/07: Markt]

Yvonne.

Where is it?

Guesses in the comment section, please.

Alicia invites me to her friend Carrie's going-away party at Carrie's house in Brooklyn.




Carrie is leaving for India and Nepal in the next couple weeks, but will be back soon.











At one point, for some reason, the evening degenerates into a display of "stupid human tricks". Collectively, the people at this party can:

- open a tube of chapstick with belly button;
- turn belly button from an innie into an outie;
- fold tongue in three places;
- vibrate tongue;
- vibrate half of face;
- pull ears up or down and have them stay that way with no muscular effort whatever.

For the record, I can't do any of these things.


PS. Soy milk is ass, but some things must be done....

Alicia, Dagfinn, Mike S., and I go to see Bertolt Brecht's Baal at the Looking Glass Theater because we are all cultured patrons of the arts, and also because one of us happens to be neighbors with one of the cast members, and is semi-regularly awakened at 4 AM to the sounds of said cast member being...amorous. It's become a big joke among us, and when we found out that this person was appearing in a play, we HAD to check it out.

I will not tell you the name of said cast member, only that he or she shares their initials with at least one person mentioned on this page.



I would hesitate to recommend the play, not only because it's rather long and repetitive, not only because its celebration of its title character is misguided -- his death in the end feels less like comeuppance and more like tragic (anti-)heroism (the character of Baal I suppose would be seductive or intriguing to somebody who has never known an alcoholic in real life, much in the same way some people actually found Nicholas Cage's character in Leaving Las Vegas somewhat sympathetic) -- but also because...well, it just wasn't very good. I really didn't get what a few of the actors were trying to do (one in particular played each of her characters as a sort of cigar-chomping 1920s news reporter). The lead, however, was very good, and had a very good singing voice to boot. It was like she existed on a completely separate, higher plane than the rest of the cast. Maybe that was the point? I doubt it -- can you imagine the director telling the cast, "Yeah, you don't suck enough. You should suck more."

Lana's birthday, Abilene in Brooklyn.

...wherein Jim eats the head of Scott Adsit.