Kate is Great

Doing it all with courage, fortitude, and grace. Three's the charm. You'll be back on the eighth floor with me in no time.

Round one

Oh my. A full-on, four-day, 5-in-a-city romp left us like this:

Most of the weekend spent in this position...

Bit of arty stuff

Mr. A reaches out and touches a kittyfairy

Found some local hotties (Barbara not pictured, sadly)

One of many reunions

Magic fingers...

Can only imagine what round two will bring.

Hello, gorgeous.

Meet my new friend, X61. She is lithe and sleek, a mere 3 lbs. She comes from China. We're going to have the most amazing adventures together.

Cheese you can believe in

My cheese has a first name. It's B-A-R-I-C-K [sic].

My cheese has a second name. It's O-B-A-M-A.

[for those of you unfamiliar, that's to this tune]

Very tangy, almost like turpentine on the palette. Creamy, though. From Vermont, natch.

Glamour, wasted

Thanks to S, I have now seen some of the Gossip Girls, and even touched them surreptitiously (they are quite firm and toned in the buttockal region). Sketchy! But not as sketchy as Mr. Costume Design. Thank god for soup dumplings. And the open bar.

A well deserved come-uppance

Speaking in Rhode Island, bothersome cliche-monger Thomas Friedman was pelted with green enviro-pies! A flier thrown along with the pies explained that Friedman deserved this

because of his sickeningly cheery applaud for free market capitalism’s conquest of the planet, for telling the world that the free market and techno fixes can save us from climate change. From carbon trading to biofuels, these distractions are dangerous in and of themselves, while encouraging inaction with respect to the true problems at hand…

Valid (if poorly written) points, though Friedman fills his nitch. His greater offense, in my view, is making us listen to his trite lexus-olive-tree-flat-world-geo-green blathering as if wisdom could be neatly packaged into little annecdotes and sold in airport bookstores.

Rhode Island = awesome

They're following me

Spotted at the Met's imported La fille du regiment tonight (which was totally identical to the London production)


wearing velvet.

and then this one, awkwardly encountered in stairwell...


wearing sequins.

All coming on the heels of last week's hot tranny mess at Hiro (which i was oblivious to until kindly informed by Mr. D)



Fierce!

Also spotted at the Met, and keeping with our theme, a never-been-seen (at least not by me) impromptu mid-act encore for Juan Diego Florez for doing this:



Eat your heart out, Natalie Dessay.