“I apologise in advance if I sing all the words,” I cautioned Fitz & Bolts, “but Gentlemen Prefer Blondes is one of my favourite musicals and I know every line”. Honestly sometimes I am really full of it. As it turned out, last night’s final performance of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes at New York’s gorgeous and recently-renovated Citi Center hardly resembled the movie version I love so much. The performances were brassier, the Dorothy & Lorelei roles were not as even, and the plots & scripts were just plain different. Plus the stage version had a whole bunch of songs I’d never heard before, and omitted a lot of the songs from the movie. I was totally lost, and yet totally enthralled. It was another example of embarrassing edge-of-my-seat theatre viewing, but at least I could spare everyone my sing-a-long.
Prior to the theatre show, me and Fitz and Bolts enjoyed some hors d’oeuvres in the front bar at Benoit – where the décor and food were wonderful but the service, not so much. Why a French waiter would want to conform to an inaccurate cultural stereotype is totally beyond me; but his snootiness was totally misplaced with us. Fortunately we were able to ignore him for the most part and just enjoy our delicious mix of nibbles: pigs feet; asparagus; fromage frais; pickled beets - yum yum! Then we migrated down the street, and underground, to a cavernous and slightly dodgy bar playing jukebox Journey tracks, and we knocked back a couple of pre-theatre beverages to get us all in the mood. We returned here afterwards to enjoy a few more drinks, though I can assure you I did not need them.
I think the only thing saving me is that I had enough food in my belly to deal with the influx of naughty things. I’d had a delicious prix fixe brunch that morning at Cinema, a busy café down the road from my apartment. Then I’d stuffed in my first Pinkberry of the season, a yummy combination of salted caramel & chocolate swirl frozen yoghurt topped with mini chocolate-coated pretzels, pineapple and raspberries (the fresh fruit balanced the guilt). Plus I wasn’t sore from Saturday boot camp, leading me to wonder whether I am acclimating to the torture, or perhaps I wasn’t doing the exercises right. Either way, I was a happy girl.
Monday has been the kind of day you can imagine, after a wonderful weekend rounded out with vodka. As I stare headlong into a new week, I feel quite smug that I have finally posted baby sister’s birthday present (three days before her special day, but still too late to actually make it to Australia on time). But I also feel quite icky at the idea that our warm, rainy weather will bring humid conditions that might put me in a rather dour mood. I have several social engagements this week – again, totally out of the norm – but I am determined to stay chipper for the duration. This week will not beat me already.