This morning I sang a name song in my head to remember the name of the co-worker I just met. It worked.

I had a lovely weekend with my girl. We saw Spider-Man 2, which was excellent and had another great Stan-Lee-saves- young-person-from-falling-debris moment; we sat on a blanket and watched the fireworks and ate peaches and guacamole; and perhaps most importantly, we checked out a couple apartments in B’klyn and Q’eens and Beth gave a strong yes to the one in Astor’a, bringing a great surge of relief and pleasure to her pretty head. I bought a nifty blanket that folds into an integrated zippered pocket at Bed Bath and Beyond and Beth bought me cute little paper lanterns to hang in my room.

On Saturday, we went to Ace Fernandez’s first birthday party at Lou and Jodi’s place and had a great time. Beth took pictures of Ace in his cute little bowtie. Later she told me she thought most of the guys there were gay. (See what happens when you bring a hi-lahr-ious pink bib to a baby boy’s party, guys?) We had a good laugh about that when I gently told her she was wrong. That night, we watched Red Bastard open for Neutrino at the PIT on Saturday night: I was enthralled, she didn’t like it and afterwards we had an interesting discussion on audience trust, theatrical boundaries and contracts, and clowning. (More on this topic later.) The NVP was good: I shot Will Hines and Rhea, who were excellent. Will is a true gentleman and quite witty; Rhea was on point, as always. We walked, talked, ate, drank, cuddled, slept and watched movies (Beth and me — not Will, Rhea and me). I think my favorite moments were just sitting on the couch together with her head on my shoulder, or snoozing with her head in my lap.

TANG!!! | Whisperings: Solo Piano Radio | shoestring fisheye! | ‘i shot andy warhol’ and other works | REZ, the game