Seriously Twyla, what were you thinkin?

So I just went to see Movin' Out, the joint musical/theatrical collaboration of Billy Joel and Twyla Tharp. Without a doubt, the dancing was amazing, but the choreography I could not abide by. There were seriously points where I was seizuring in disbelief at the ridiculousness of it all. It reminded me of a (much) better version of whatever that Harry Connick, Jr./Susan Stroman musical was, that is, if you set it to the tune of "We Didn't Start the Fire" and give it a Forrest Gump-esque storyline...

And may I just add 'Damn you gays for being so frickin' hot!'? The lead was an understudy but amazing nonetheless. And so very gay. I just wanted to stroke him in all of his sweaty, dancing goodness. But alas, such is not my lot in life...

And in other news, today is Thursday. Yay for that. Because that means tomorrow is Friday, and at the end of Friday I am officially done with one quarter of my internship. Wow, scary. Time flies when you're running around like a chicken with its head cut off. On Monday, the fashion photo shoots begin. I may even get to meet the lovely and talented Rosario Dawson, who you might have seen in such films as Kids, Sidewalks of New York and Josie & the Pussycats (which also stars none other than Alan Cumming, my lovahhhhhh). If nothing else, I get free lunch and a chance to carry about thousands and thousands of dollars (and pounds!) of swanky clothing.

Last night I saw a film with Mr. Ryan Gosling, Sandy Bullock's lovah (unfortunately for such drooling teenyboppers as myself). It was called The Slaughter Rule, and I might suggest for all of you to watch it, but oh wait, it'll probably never make it beyond the one theater that I saw it in last night. But if you're in NYC in the next week, go down to the Two Boots Pioneer Theater on 3rd Street and Avenue A, and you too can lust over RG!

So, that's about it. Things continue to go well at work. Mr. Tony, the new fag upon which I may hag, has made the effort and reached out to me. We plan to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Saturday at midnight. I am so Doris Finsecker from Fame.

And that's about it for now, except for the fact that I dropped my discman in the toilet today (pre-urination), and now it is broken. This wouldn't be too much of an issue, except I got it in England, so there is no chance for returning, replacing, what-have-you. When and if I spend the dough on a new discman, it will be the third one I have bought this year. Sheesh...

Okay, keep me posted with e-mails, kids. Love to love ya, baby...