Social, Social

[Tonight: Sean, Allen, Donald and I go to Teatro ZinZanni. I first saw Teatro not six months into its San Francisco run. Ah, the heady dot-com days when John got lots of free tickets as a corporate concierge. Long, long gone; however, tonight should be a blast.]

[Tomorrow: Mildred Pierce at the Castro. Ann Blyth, Veeda herself, is appearing! God, she must be older than dirt. But Allen and I wouldn't miss it. "You're cheap and horrible."]

[This weekend: I'm going to try to talk someone into an impromptu trip to the River on Saturday, and my sister's having a birthday barbecue on Sunday.]

[Next week: Dinner with the parents in my 'hood before they see La Marcovicci at the Friendly Neighborhood Cabaret. I wasn't invited to attend the show with them, and I really rather think I've seen enough of Andrea for one lifetime. The last time she and I spoke, she swept into the box office and tore my ear off for over three quarters of an hour about the state of cabaret before signing off in the most L.A. way: "Love ya." I haven't heard from her since! She didn't love me! That tone-deaf bitch totally Shined Me On, and I'm really fucked up behind it, OK?]

[Then next weekend, my law school buddy Terry's trying to drag me to Great America for his birthday. I haven't been to Great America since 1988. Hell, I haven't even been on a roller coaster since the first Bush Administration. Eek.]

[Social, social. If I run fast enough, they can't catch me, right?]

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