Name Dropping...This is News?

[More proof (as if more were needed; I'm chaotic good, as well) that George and I should form a cabal: I got a 33 of 50 on the UK Guardian's year-end quiz, too.]

[Got roped last night into seating the Friendly Neighborhood Cabaret. Wesla girl's drawin' 'em in greater quantities than expected, and Leah needed help. After eight hours behind the front desk, I wasn't jumping to spend more time at the Cute Victorian Hotel Around the Corner, but it gave me time with L. and Sean, whom I rarely see otherwise. And it gave me a chance to hear the story of Sean's stepniece asking Sean's roommate Andrew, at Christmas dinner, if he was Jesus. Andrew (he of the buzzcut red head) was flummoxed, and Stepniece, quickly getting that he wasn't in fact her Lord and Savior, had some fun that belied her 6-year-old-ness: "No, you're not Jesus...unless you got a haircut since yesterday."]

[Working the Cute Vic and the F.N.C. also put me in contact with two of San Francisco's politically progressive lights: I transferred a call from Tom Ammiano (live, for once; usually, I get recorded messages from him at election time), and seated Stephanie Salter (seeing the show w/parents.)]

[Oh, and while everyone else seems all bent out of shape by Herbs Ritts's passing, my ongoing Julia Phillips obsession was fed a nibble by George Roy Hill's obit.]

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