grrgoyl

Just got back from New York yesterday. My trip was completely packed! I met the ultra-fun swankyfunk, who was everything I expected and more. We finally solved the mystery of how to pronounce her name (well, most of the confusion was on my end). We browsed the Virgin Megastore, where I experienced the very surreal moment of spotting one of her icons in the book Stuff on my Cat while standing beside the icon-maker herself. Then onto Barnes & Noble for a bathroom break and more browsing. From there we hooked up with my sister, and back to Madison Park to meet the stunning and stylishly-dressed minikitkatgirl for lunch at the Shake Shack -- which I enjoyed despite receiving the news from my bank that my debit card had been compromised and had to be cancelled immediately.

Then a quick stop at Forbidden Planet in Union Square (where I couldn't resist buying this extremely subversive Jesus magnet set) before heading to Broadway to try to settle on plans for dinner near the theater. We decided on an Italian place, where I had the pleasant surprise of meeting the mega-fabulous madam_o. Then in almost no time at all we were going to the play!

We waited on the sidewalk with the rest of the mob, where an older British woman overheard our conversation and interjected, "I just want to see Daniel's cock." We congratulated her on her honesty. Naughty naughty Meisje tried to snap an illicit photo of the stage set, which was impossible without the flash. I begged her not to get us kicked out and she relented. Our seats were really, really good (thanks to Amy!) and I was vibrating in my seat with excitement.

( ::cut for length, probably spoilers, though I think everyone I know who is planning on going was there with me:: )

After the show we made a token effort to wait at the stage door for Daniel, but the stage manager claimed he had already left, and frankly I had to pee so badly I was ready to use the alley. We were there long enough to apparently piss off Daniel's "#1 fan" when we stepped in front of her inadvertently -- I missed her outburst, but Meisje heard it. I would have pointed out that if she really was his #1 fan, she should be there every night so what was the problem? Then I would've peed on her shoes.

An older woman appeared on the sidewalk beside us and asked, "Did Danny make it tonight?" Evidently his grandmother had died a few days previously. Tery had been gleefully joking since the moment I bought my ticket that something was going to happen and I'd see his understudy. How close she came to being right.

We got friend!Amy to Port Authority, barely (her shoes had sworn revenge on her for some past misdeed), and Meisje got me to the subway and pointed me in the right direction back to Jason's -- where I met his other roommate, who loves Harry Potter, Alan Rickman and almost as many movies as me. We dished until 2 am. Before that, photos:



( ::more this way:: )

I flew out Wed morning, after La Guardia's Dunkin Donuts kiosk failed to provide me with a Bavarian creme. Amy was right, they suck. And thus ended my magical, whirlwind New York "weekend" to see Equus (and meet practically half my f-list).

Except for Mrs. Thompson, the 80-something woman I got stuck sitting next to from Minnesota to Denver. She asked me where I was from. "Denver," I answered, "where are you from?" And then she proceeded to talk nonstop for the rest of the flight. Right up until the moment we stepped off the plane this woman told me practically her life story. I was too polite to turn away.

She was from Kansas City, Missouri. From her description, Kansas City, Missouri is a very dark, violent place. She had only lurid tales of babies dying after being forgotten in a car, of husbands being murdered for insurance money, of kids going to court for dropping a book on the teacher's foot (these were all among her close friends and relations). Mrs. Thompson had a firm, unshakeable idea of right and wrong, and it was all very black and white. She was kind of terrifying. I took secret pleasure in the fact she had no idea she was talking to a raging bisexual liberal who reads filthy, filthy slash fiction.

She was also diabetic. She ordered a Diet Pepsi from the beverage service, then got so engrossed in her storytelling she forgot she had it. I got alarmed when she saw them coming back around with the garbage bags and she started knocking it back like a shot of whiskey. "I'm sure they'll come around again," I cautioned her, "You don't have to..." Too late.

When we were finally in the airport, she reunited with her husband (they for some reason couldn't sit together on the plane). I stopped to say goodbye, and this adorable little man asked, "Did you sit next to her?" He reached over to gently cup my head, "Your poor ear!"

Now all I have to live for is Guitar Hero: World Tour and Rock Band 2. : (