Today's my birthday. The only thing I wanted was for my two-year-old cousin to call and tell me happy birthday. She threw herself on the floor and then hid in the corner to avoid having to talk to me. That broke my heart.
My very generous aunt has promised to take me to any show I want for my birthday. And here's something terrible - there is nothing I want to see. Nothing. I can't see Hair again. It's gotten to be such a tired show. God help me, and God help them. Sunday will be the end of beautiful Ragtime. So what's left? Ooh, this is so sad. I miss the days when I couldn't decide what to see because there were so many great options. Now I can't decide because there's nothing but play revivals starring big name movie actors. If that's what Broadway is coming to, then I'd rather not continue on with this little infatuation. It's a dirty little war, and they're dropping like flies.
I was thinking maybe I'd see West Side Story. I do like Karen Olivo, and now with Matt Cavenaugh out of the way it might be safe to test the waters. I don't actively want to see it, but it's better than getting dragged to Rock of Ages. I'm already seeing Jersey Boys, and this ungrateful bitch is none too happy about that.