February 18, 2018

Sam and I dined at Vivian’s last night–pheasant–and then we went (I with sore trepidation) to closing night of Night Music. The room was full of people I know. The performance was actually quite good, up to B+, I think, and I was glad to see it off on the high note. It is a good play, and something was wrong in the universe that it should be torn to such rags by circumstance. Q still thinks he did me a favor by saving the show from its original conception. Didn’t bother to respond. But, Lord, for a little while, save me from the subterranean and furtive.

Too much time watching the Olympics.

What gets me in the most trouble? Telling the truth. It always surprises me that people don’t want to hear the truth, even when they acknowledge it IS the truth. I’m not even saying this is wrong; I’m saying I get into trouble, perpetually, for not anticipating it.