Hedway

(January 23, 2003)

I know the header says 'January 23' but I don't REALLY think it's January 23 until I go to BED and get UP again, and then it can be tomorrow. As of now, it's still tonight.

I'm drunk. Why write, druknk, why. HEre goes.

So Wolf and I went to see Asa Brebner play a short set at The Independent in Union Square. The place is cool, but feels, as I uttered to Daddy Groove, "...like a caricature of itself." "Yeah," he agreed, "but I hear the food is good." That's what I love about Wolf. He doesn't know what I'm talking about but neither of us care.

Hub is in Washington on business, so rather than have new roomie Thermos have to deal with the catbox, I have the key to his house (my old house for those of you keeping track), and am the ScoopMaster until Friday. I parked at the old homestead, scooped the catbox, walked to The Independant. Wine, more wine, some wine, and oh yeah, wine.

Home, car. Nicely done. I got "nicely done" from Joe, I just realized. I don't need "nicely done." Din't I just used to say "good job"? Good job. Fuck, nicely done is better. Anyway, I got home without crashing into anything.

One voicemail from Thermos asking if the cats meet my expectations. Well, they seemed to all BE there...that's about right, so...yeah.

One voicemail badly mangled by static. Sounded like, "Lexi honey it's Gene, ssssssschhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwfffffthhhhh tomorrow? Really ssssssschhwwfffffth love you dearly ssssssschhwwfffffthSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Mike says he'll fondle your breasts."

Whatever the question was, the answer is "I'll be there." It's Gene Dante, of course I'll help. What a sweetheart, seriously.

("Mike" is Mike Messer, who directed Hedwig's last run in October, and, uh, I didn't think I'd ever see HIM again. NO, he's not fondling ANYthing...West Hollywood guys, honestly!)