seldomifever: (b/g)
Baby baby baby baby! Hooray!!

In other happy news, Anthony Head says Uther's reign is not over yet - do we believe him?

In icky news, dog just yuked all over the backseat of my car. My my my. Will the fun ever cease?

In dear-Lord-I-might-have-to-get-myself-back-on-a-plane news, Kevin Spacey is going to play Richard III next summer. Guys, why can't you do all of your work on *this* (the good side) of the Atlantic? I'ma scared to fly.
seldomifever: (shut up)
Play was funny! Although, I did doze for a few minutes towards the end. Thankfully, husband was there to gently nudge me awake before I could begin snoring. Win! But I really enjoyed it, and my sleepiness should in no way reflect on its likability. Note to self: see more plays. Also, get a better night's sleep, so you can stay awake through them.

Only three days left of our vacay and we still haven't been to Provincetown, turned in our tickets to Red Barn, or gone to the drive-in. Yipes!
seldomifever: (Default)
You can say it, I don't mind. I'm a nutjob.

Fucking Anthony Head stood ten feet away from me and I sat with a shit-eating grin on my face for the entire play. The acting was super and the play nice and tight. Lotsa laughs. Afterwards, kids asked if they could please meet him and I was all "Sure!" then stood there like a numbskull and let husband do all the talking. Got a cute photo of the kids with Head. Next year's Christmas card? Mebbe.

Will post more about the experience when I'm a little less buzzed. On beer. Not ASH. He was sweet, tall, and running late for a train. Worth traveling 3500 miles for? Yeah, I guess.
seldomifever: (smoking)
Last night, husband and I drove to the city and caught Blithe Spirit, and possibly the swine flu. The lady next to us was hacking up a lung, which made it difficult for me to concentrate on the show. Couldn't she at least cover her mouth? When this woman failed to reappear after intermission, I found myself both relieved and concerned. Was she a bioterrorist who'd planted herself in the theater, hoping to spread her vile ickiness throughout before vanishing like a phantom into the night, perhaps stopping off in a restaurant or a crowded movie in order to continue her attack elsewhere? Or was she merely late getting back to her seat? Ladies Room lines are notoriously long. She might have gotten stuck on one and then been forced to stand in the back, lest returning to her chair prove too distracting to both performers and performees. Either way, I cannot say I was sorry to see her go.

Noel Coward, if nothing else, is an excellent ad man for the alcohol industry. I spent the second half of the show dreaming of leaving my incredibly uncomfortable seat and returning home, where I might mix myself a dry martini before calling it a night. But by the time we got back, it was rather late and after walking the dog, I'd completely forgotten my plan to get blotto and went to straight to bed instead. Luckily today is Mother's Day, so Father is sure to be serving Bloody Marys for brunch. Nothing like a little tomato juice flavored rocket fuel to start one's day off right. What this morning's gathering lacks in overdressed sophisticates engaging in witty banter, it is certain to make up for in schlubbies whining about work, and that's nothing to sneeze at. *cough* *cough* Did I mention I think I might be coming down with something?
seldomifever: (landscape)
My daughter and I took in our high school's production of Wizard of Oz last night. $10 a ticket. Thought that was pretty excessive, considering our district's hi-tech sound system cuts out every third sentence creating the effect of a car radio losing it's signal at every underpass. Has Dorothy Gale always been such a whiny sack of poo? Good grief. Considered releasing flying monkeys on her myself. I never remember finding Almira Gulch such a sympathetic character before, but I honestly felt for her. And is it just me or is there a little UST between Dorothy and the Scarecrow? Hmm. Must think about that one. They had a real pup play Toto. Cutest little bugger. Makes me wish we'd gone small dog instead of big. I like the idea of having a pet I can just pluck up and plop in a basket, as I wend my way to Emerald City.
seldomifever: (b/g)
Well, well, well. I've spent nearly two years dreading this day, and, yet, now that it's finally here, 'tain't no big whoops. A couple of days in a five star hotel overlooking Central Park definitely helped ease the pain of turning forty. I could get used to having people eager to wait on me hand and foot. It doesn't suck. And even though we'll be paying off this trip for the next few months, it was well, well worth it. Everything was perfect - the room, the view, the service, the food, the drinks. And Equus had to be the best play I have ever seen, hands down. I loved every second of it, and that's saying a lot, because I am usually pretty good at finding something to hate. Lately, I find the city to be rejuvenating in much the same way I've always found the sea to be. Not sure why, but I'm loving it. Definitely must take better advantage of the fact that we live only a few miles from the most beautiful beaches in the world, and 25 miles from the most exciting city. I feel very fortunate to live in New York. It's da bomb.
seldomifever: (landscape)
We went to the harbor theater tonight and saw The Mistakes Madeline Made. Boy, have we been missing out. These shows have now made it to the things-we-must-do-while-on-the-Cape list. The place is small, but the seats were exactly like a movie theater. A seven-row movie theater, but still, unexpected. Husband bought us front row seats, which turned out to be far less excruciating than I feared. Felt a bit strange to have the main character sobbing about six inches from your feet, but that was about the extent of my pain. Play was funny, acting was great, and for thirty bucks a pop, the prices can't be beat. We had a much better time than when we took in Spamalot. Think I'll stick to small productions from now on. Also was most grateful that actors were as good as they were. I hate having to sit through "I Can Do That!"-type performances. Think we'd become friends of W.H.A.T. even if it meant we wouldn't get a cool sticker in return.

After the show, we headed over to the Harbor Freeze, though I'm pretty sure I'm dating myself. Place hasn't been called that in many years, but it beats me what its new(ish) name is. We waited forever for a little soft serve, but had a little excitement thrown in when someone behind us said, "Ooh, that's Wallace Shawn from The Princess Bride." We looked over, and sure enough, there was Wallace heself, strolling around the Freeze. Kind of stood out, because everyone else wore shorts and t-shirts, and he was all decked out in black with this long striped scarf hanging around his neck, looking very much the Ac-tor. And he walked so slowly, with such little purpose, staring and smiling at the people on line, it seemed he wanted to be recognized. A woman ahead of us asked who he was again, and I described his character in PB, and she had a vague recollection. Has he been in anything else, she wanted to know, but all I could come up with was Manhattan and My Dinner with Andre, and if she couldn't remember The Princess Bride, there was no way she'd seen the others. Finally, I gave up and said, "He's been in everything. You've definitely seen him." Anyway, that was kind of neat. I've lost count on our Brush with Greatness, Cape Cod division, but I know he's at least the third famous person we've gawked at up here.

Um, what else? Sign on the house we bid on now says "Sale Pending". We called our realtor and told her. She said not to worry about it, that it just meant the sellers were done showing the house. She'll let us know tomorrow where we stand. Honestly, we were a little relieved when we thought we'd missed it. Big commitments are scary, scary.

Ooh, and I think ODD is back up. Hooray!!
seldomifever: (scruffy)
The W Hotel in Times Square? Beds - best ever, view of Hudson - nice, everything else - meh. Way too modern for my taste.

Spamalot? Prolly funnier if you haven't seen Holy Grail 100x. Most likely better if someone you even remotely care about is starring in it, though the unknown actors we saw did an excellent job. Could have been cleverer.

Rosie O'Grady's? Consistently good. Food's tasty, service's excellent, and, best of all, this restaurant is roomy. I hate feeling squished.

BLT Market at the Ritz-Carlton? Yum. Yum. Yum. And comfy (see comment above).

The Met? Large. We joined so we can go back as often as we like. Love love loved this piece by Magritte.

Street Fairs steps from your hotel? Fantastico and super convenient, though next time I would avoid the greasy food, cause it made me feel kinda queasy.

Parents who spend two nights with little one climbing in and out of bed with them and yet still remain cheery? Priceless. It's official: my parents should be sainted. Plus, they worked on training our pup. Now he can almost follow the command "stay".
seldomifever: (candle)
Just got back from the city after seeing Patrick Stewart in Macbeth, and I am going to flat out say that I don't like watching Shakespeare's work, blasphemer that I be. It makes my head ache. It's like seeing a play performed in Italian...I get the gist, but how much happier would I be without the guesswork involved in deciphering fast-paced iambic pentameter? The production itself was interesting, and I can honestly say that at 67, Mr. Stewart remains swoon-worthy--a sexy show-stealing stage presence personified. But, dudes, if you're setting Macbeth somewhere in like WWII Soviet Union, with loud, irritating machine gun battles and moving image backdrops, what would it hurt to update the dialogue? I know. You don't have to say it. Shakespeare is all about the language. The beauty and cleverness and rhyme-ability. I get it, I do. But after having suffered through three stage productions of it, I've pretty much had my fill, and will officially and happily declare myself Bard-free for the rest of my life. Time to just say no the next time I am tempted into seeing another. Maybe I'd see the RSC at the Barbican for old times' sake, but that is probably the only thing that could get me to go back for more. I am the ugly American. I am without couth. But I think it's time to take a stand and come out of the closet and admit that I don't enjoy this stuff any more, and possibly never did.

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