I called the IT guy. While we were on the phone, God Himself came down from the Heavens, touched the server, and Ka-POW! it was fixed. I ran home to pack an overnight bag and feed/water the Psychokitty.
I managed to get to the metro station at 6 and there was a train waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Finally, it departed and I managed to only be 15 minutes late. Fortunately, Y is always late. So, I got there before he did. I am trying to overcome my need for punctuality in a partner. It seems I will never find such a person, so I might as well make do. Just as I eventually learned that John's "I'm leaving the house now" actually meant "I'm thinking of leaving the house now, but really will be leaving in about 30-45 minutes," I will learn Y's time-definitions as well.
Anyway, we went to the Capital Fringe Festival's Cautionary Tales for Adults and the Adventures of Trixie Tickles:
Two mini-musicals with songs ranging from smoky cabaret to frothy pop. First, an unhinged librarian teaches several unsuspecting adults about the injustices of life. Next, a high-strung children's TV star learns valuable lessons of her own like, "being pretty is all that matters". Deliciously inappropriate and filled with guilty pleasures.
The music was fun; the lyrics were clever and, sometimes raunchy. The vocal abilities of the 5 players ranged from mediocre to meteoric. I laughed a lot and had a good time, but, after it all ended, I was left thinking "What was the point?" Not that there's anything wrong with a cotton candy mini-musical, but I had different expectations for a cotton candy mini-musical staged as part of a fringe festival. I expected something edgy, something that would keep my mind working long after the play ends. This didn't. Sure, having an adult playing a 5-year-old child sing "Don't be a mother-fucking cocksucker" is shocking, but *meh* South Park already broke that ground with "Uncle Fucker." So, like I said, fun, but -personally- I'd go spend my $15 on a ticket to something else. Maybe Faggot, which the WaPo reviewed:
This 35 -minute piece is clearly developmental -- a worthy function of the Fringe -- as local actor Sheldon A. Scott creates a handful of monologues around gay men in therapy (at least one court-ordered) ... The show sometimes feels contrived in its setup and stereotypical in its characters, but Scott does have a nose for the dramatic and an ear for speech. As much as anything, it's hampered by the ungainly pauses in Scott's hesitant performance.
After the play ended, Y and I walked down to Logan Tavern for dinner. Lo and behold, they had some new items on their menu! I had the vegetarian cheese tortellini in tomato cream sauce. Yummy. Y had some sort of dead cow, BUT it came with potatoes mashed with goat cheese [and they were amazing!]. LT also started (or have started since I was there last) selling wine by the Glass & a Half, which was the perfect amount for two to share (if one of the two is driving and the other of the two is not a raging alcoholic) ...
So maybe it wasn't *that* perfect.
We drove back to Y's house and went to bed. Fun times. Fun times.
I think it's going to be a busy rest of the week/weekend. My friend, Kristen, is in town from Washington for two weeks to train her replacement. I think we'll be doing happy hour on Friday and then a Harry Potter 5 matinee followed by dinner at Jaleo on Sunday. Plus, she wants to do Screen on the Green on Monday [1967's Wait Until Dark is playing]. Saturday, Y and I want to go see the Fringe Festival's The Arab-Israeli Cookbook. I think I'm going to need a week to recover.