O my love, my love, my love

Back from the Pudding and the cast dinner afterwards with Dad, Michele, her daughter Eva, the other actors, and a few of Dad's blue-haired admirers. Its the kind of thing I wish I could have brought a friend or a date to just to have someone's shoulder to fall asleep on and to talk to and make fun of how everyone fawned over Dad...who cracked me up tonight with his readings, truth be told. Michelle, too, with The Loudest Voice. I had no idea she could do a thick accent like that!

So home now, cold ocean breeze coming through, red thermal shirt with snowflakes isn't really cutting it. Pretty lonely, though accomplished, very very tired, very much missing Jessica. I hear I missed the first snow. I've been trying to picture Harvard street with the light dusting of it all evening. Its too uncomfortable to think about most of the time, especially when faced with the baking pavement that LA has to offer these days. Its just not right. So much isn't right now. Anyhow, the Alleluia went well (with the exception of our accompanist being noticeably and unapologetically drunk), as did Past Three O'clock and the Exultate. More tomorrow after yoga, the Cantori Concert, and yet another dinner with Dad (who seems to be my best friend and my constant date lately).

In the meantime Bryce sent me this, and its resurrected my spirit a little bit. Especially the boy with glasses at 0:56.