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on saturday cam and i ventured out of the suburbs for our night of culture.

it seems appropriate that we miscalculated the time (among other things) and ended up eating in'n'out sandwiches and fries in the parking garage near the geffen. it's hard to think sophisticated thoughts when your fingers are greasy. grounding, you know.

after we ate, we headed into the theater to watch a play that was "good like gandhi... good like schindler's list," said cam. arthur miller's "all my sons" is not exactly a lightweight experience. it was excellent -- pardon the fangirly whoop for neil patrick harris (we saw him as mark in "rent," too) -- but i'm in no hurry to see it again. i didn't cry at the end, but i did feel a little worn by then. such drama, such anguish, such tragedy. try to be unmoved in the face of such pain. suicide stories always leave me feeling a little vulnerable, even heavy-handed ones with a topical veneer.

"let the dissection begin," i murmured to cam as we exited the theater. sure enough, all the theater groupies were already blathering on. as we walked through the courtyard to the street, cam looked startled. "isn't that oliver stone?" we watched him cross the street by himself -- the whole time he was on the phone with whoever it was that was going to pick him up (we speculated). we tried to wait for his ride, but i was feeling rather stalkerish, so we went into the garage.

i feel different, not the same
this kind of feeling i can't explain
there is only one thing that i can do
i feel... stalkerish
how about you?

paul was asleep on my mom's lap when we arrived at home. with cam's parents in hawaii, we could only leave him with her, and unfortunately he just doesn't get distracted enough when they are together. by 10ish he was crying for mommy and daddy to come home. at cam's parents' house, we're lucky if he even remembers who we are when we show up to get him.

we have two plays left on our subscription, but cam is already talking about buying a subscription for next year, too. i think we should do it. it's nice to have an excuse to go out and be adults for more than a stolen hour or two.



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