My cat and I do this thing every morning before I leave the house, where I ask him, "Do you love me," and then he just licks his own asshole. Which is actually how it was scripted in the original version of Fiddler, for all you theatre buffs. The point is, I need a boyfriend. STAT.
This past weekend, I celebrated a milestone birthday. No, not my Quinceanera. I haven't had one of those since I was 24. I don't know how it can have happened, but I'm like a legitimate adult now, you guys. And yet, I still woke up this morning with a huge-ass zit on my forehead, so fuck what ya heard in all those "It gets better" videos, because I'm here to tell you otherwise. Anyway, it's all a little unnerving, but also somehow extremely liberating. Sort of like the "Brand New Day" sequence in the film version of "The Wiz" (I promise this will be the last musical theatre reference I make until the one I'll probably make in the next paragraph about "Cats"), when everyone strips away their dirty peasant rags to reveal all their hot naked blackness. That's kind of how I feel - like a hot black lady in her underwear, ready to dance into a new chapter of life. Oh! And someone offered their seat to me on the subway this morning, so old age does have its perks.
All my older friends have always assured me that, like a fine wine, life does improve with age. But I've never really listened to them. They're old, after all, and nothing they say is relevant anymore. I usually just nod my head and continue drinking their expensive wine. But at this point, I'm ready to believe. All I have left now is my faith and the memories of my days in the sun (BOO-YAH!!!) And speeeeaaaking of "Cats"... One of the highlights of my birthday this year was a post on my facebook wall from one of my all-time fave Broadway legends, the one and only, the magnificent Betty freakin' Buckley! I wanted to share it, so I took a screenshot of it and made it my wallpaper (not on my iPhone - in my living room.)
I love her vibrato on "dear", "to" and "you". Classic Betty!