So yesterday I had lunch with Omar. I had to give him the scripts for The Hostage, and he suggested that he pick them up and we go out to lunch at the same time.

I've been meaning to introduce him to The Raccoon, since they know all about each other from when I was obsessed with the fact that they must know each other, both being from the Cuban area of Weehawken/West New York, being only a few years apart in age and having the same birthday, but I chickened out. I couldn't be certain that she wouldn't say something terribly embarrassing and in Spanish which I wouldn't understand!

I'm starting to wish that I had paid even the smallest bit of attention in the eight years of Spanish classes I took in grade school. Anyway, she promised to be good and I promised to introduce them next time.

We went to Vynl and I ended up taking an hour and a half for lunch. It wasn't a thing, because usually I take only half an hour and that's only because I am forced to by HR, otherwise I wouldn't take lunch at all, I consider it to be a massive waste of time.

Not yesterday, though. We had a really nice time. I sort of get why people take lunches and leave the office now. He said that he wanted to die at 50 because he was pretty certain that he would have had it with life by then. I told him that if he was going to do that, he never had any excuse not to go out with me, what with the time limit and all. Though I'd far rather that he lived for longer than 11 more years. I'm certain that his daughter would agree with me.

And then last night I went to see Twelfth Night at BAM.

Have I told the Joe Quinn story yet? I don't think I have. Last week I got an email from Joe asking my when I was going to see the shows at BAM, that how was he expected to live vicariously through me if I don't see the right theatre. "What shows at BAM?" I wondered, so I went over to the webpage and had a look.

Ahh, those shows at BAM! The Donmar Warehouse productions of Twelfth Night and Uncle Vanya starring Emily Watson and Simon Russell Beale, directed by Sam Mendes! I swan, ever since I let my subscription to New York Magazine lapse, I never have the slightest idea what is going on in this city.

So I called and booked tickets right away, and Twelfth Night was last night and Vanya is Sunday.

O, how was the show? Spectacular, actually.

I loved the concept and the staging, which was very simple. There were a hundred candles, at least, in the upper portion of the stage where no-one ever walked, some hanging from the ceiling, and in centre stage was an enormous picture frame, twice the size of a man. You see, Twelfth Night is all about yearning and longing for people, and there are many many speeches about people who are not there, so whenever Orsino was talking about Olivia or Viola about Orsino or her brother, or Olivia about Viola or practically every single other person in the play about Olivia, the person being talked about would stand in the frame. It was quite striking.

The cast was uniformly excellent--Emily Watson was a great Viola, very butch and sexy, and Simon Russell just broke my heart as Malvolio. His come-uppance never works for me, because the better the actor playing Malvolio, the sadder it is when he's locked away as a madman, it's not comic at all. Mark Strong's Orsino was terribly virile, David Bradley's Sir Andrew was a stick-insect in the form of a man, and Paul Jesson was the best Sir Toby Belch I have ever seen.

I cannot wait until Vanya now, seeing those same actors in different roles.

Today's horoscope:
You want to experience something new. It's time to break out of a rut. Thanks to the Stars, you can direct the experience while participating fully. Surprise still works for you.

One year ago today:
Which is a beach ball. A beach ball with pink hair and cool glasses, but a beach ball nonetheless. I don't want to be a beach ball, I want to be a human girl.

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Last Updated Mon 25 January 16:50:09 2003