in other news

Last night was the pay-what-you-can of Blue/Orange at the Intiman. Good stuff. Two hateful white British psychiatrists aruguing over who is the bigger racist and what kind of crazy their black patient is. Nobody really wins, ambiguity is everywhere, and it's fucking funny.

I wish C was with me since only he can remember great lines heard once. (Sigh) I wish the acting was more nuanced; the older actor was mugging shamelessly and the younger one was pinwheeling his arms and spitting.

Huge fountains of spit.

Spraying.

The black guy was lovely, and he reminded me of my paranoid cousin, but in a good-job-at-showing-affect way.

Still feeling some coworker hatred. But we ate at Red Mill tonight and it was all sloppy goodness.

Time for hugs, snuggling, and book.

Nancy Kress Probability series. Plot's meandering a bit right now.