So, friends, I am once again perfectly contented. Lenora, that bottomless pit of understanding and acceptance, does not hate me for going to see Hair without her. She has but one request - she would like to talk to Allison Case on my phone. Normally I don't go for stuff like that, but I did practically rip Lenora's theatrical guts out. It's the least I can do. Still though, I know I'm gonna clam up and/or be so wound up I forget to ask, so I think that honor will fall to Berri. Because I just don't do very well at stage doors.
I'm currently in makeover mode. Today I got new glasses, tomorrow I am getting my hair dyed blonde. It's part of this whole "I'm reinventing myself thing." Hey, don't forget. Some tourist from Indiana thinks I'm a wild one. I have a reputation to protect. So tomorrow after my hair appointment I'm off to the mall to pick up the dress I picked out for Saturday's venture to the mezzanine of the Hirschfeld Theatre.
I'd ask if you like it, but I'm gonna get it and wear it regardless, so there is really no point. No offense. I hated this dress when I first saw it. But it is an acquired taste, much like escargot and Sunday in the Park With George. Nevertheless, purchase it I will and wear it I will. And that's all I have to say about that.