So.

My evening in was lovely. After having assessed the situation Sam and I decided to convene and be violently ill together. He arrived with grapes, orange juice, wheat sticks and ginger crisps. And 30 Rock. Then I fell asleep and Brett went to Queens til 4 am.

Brett won the Wicked lottery. Which seems like a good thing until you get to your seat and realize that you have to perform a standing backbend in order to see anything. We moved several rows back at intermission. Glinda appeared to be a hair cross-eyed. But I might only think that because she reminds me of some lady on The Young and the Restless who looks cross-eyed. 

We took the LMNOPQ trains to Brooklyn for dinner with Joseph and Perry. It was lovely. Macaroni and cheese. And cherry pie sent to Joseph from Gregory Maguire. It didn't have a crust and was highly tangy. My idea of a normal-sized piece of pie differs greatly from Perry's. 

Joseph and I decided to perform Amy Grant's Christmas album. 

During this time Brett decided it would be fun to bash on the tuneless piano and play Bop-It.

So after that plan fell through we all set about pestering Perry into playing his violin. He agreed under the condition that the rest of us all go out and walk around the block. We did. We saw a fluorescent nativity set in which the baby Jesus appeared to be performing crunches in the manger.

I'm supposed to publish a picture of Perry fiddling with this post, but I don't know how to do that, I don't have the camera, and Brett has gone out for lettuce so I will add that later. 

I jumped into the Subway track on the way back, which was thrilling. Have always wanted to do that. Jumped right back out quick as a flash. Not smart. Glad I did it. I used to spend minutes and minutes sitting at the top of my basement stairway trying to work up the gumption to jump. I  knew it wouldn't kill me, but it seemed just a fraction too high. 

Eventually did it. 

Then we drove to Richmond. We left at 10pm. Which should rationally mean that we had at least three more good awake hours to go before we started nodding off. However, every time I leave New York anytime post-sunset my mind red alerts my body that it has just survived a nuclear holocaust and has had no sleep for 6 weeks. It then becomes next to impossible to stay awake. 

Maggie and Adam seem to have made off with my candle wick. This is very suspicious. The surface of my spruce candle now resembles Karolina Kurkova's abdomen.