Unfortunately I'm not able to do all the writing I'd like to these days - and it's the dance reviews that have fallen by the wayside. Still, I got Friday's Royal Ballet quadruple bill written up (works by Balanchine & Ashton, and a work with a truly stupendous use of light and projections called Invitus Invitam), but tonight's trip to Merce Cunningham will probably not be so lucky. Well, maybe. I'm focusing more on the plays, and I'm only behind them by one: last week's Men Should Weep is done, but this weekend's Me and Juliet (forgotten Rogers and Hammerstein) is not. It was a memorable show for at least one reason: during a mambo number, one of the cast member's maracas leapt out of his hands and toward the audience, grazing my hair and then disappearing under the seats. He managed to continue the number with a jack-o-lantern grin pasted on his face before he ran off. We couldn't find it after the show, but that excitement far outshone what happened on stage - my heart was racing!