Last night wechsler and I went to see Metamorphosis at the Lyric Hammersmith. It was cool to go to a theater in walking distance of my work, and it was also neat to be at a show that was utterly and completely sold out. To my amusement, a great number of the audience appeared to be high school kids, apparently seeing it as part of a class assignment. They cheered pretty wildly at the end, and I can't blame them; it was, physically speaking, a bravado performance, with the lead actor crawling around the walls, hanging upside down and such, in a set that was specially created to be a jungle gym (the upper half was a bedroom as seen from above, with holes cut into the walls that he used as hand-holds, and the "chair" and "lamp stand" clearly bolted into the frame of the stage so he could swing off of them). We both found the acting rather wooden and the whole thing absurd and lacking in subtlety, which perhaps was its intention; the teenaged girls, according to the usher, "very much liked his body." Ah, youth.
Then afterwards I had my usual Friday night boo hoo and sadness. Dang it. I'm looking forward to shadowdaddy getting the heck over here so I don't go missing him all the time.
For now, the weather is lovely, though it's making me insanely frustrated because ALL THE WINDOWS IN THE FRONT ROOM HAVE BEEN PAINTED SHUT. Muppets. But I'm ready for my walk now, Mr. DeMille. To the Wildlife Center, shall we?