Chicago!

I spent a large chunk (nearly six hours) of this weekend watching a production of Chicago. This was not six hours for one show, it was two shows of about three hours apiece, done by the same people both times.

Why on earth would I watch the same show twice? Because my husband was playing in it! The production was put on by a group called the Hi-Liners, and it was performed in Burien, which is sort of around the same general area as Sea-Tac airport, for any of you who know where that is.

It was actually really good. I was pleasantly surprised. I didn't expect much going in, since some of the performers were very young, but it was highly entertaining. I was kind of glad they changed this walking over chairs thing (standing on a chair, then stepping on the back, tipping it over and sort of jump/walking off of it as it fell) after the first performance I saw, since I was surprised no necks were broken engaging in that little feat. Apparently that's a classic move by some old-time artist, but it looked rather dangerous.

Anyway, it was fun to go and listen to Patrick play a show like this. He usually does very classical stuff or the recording gigs, none of which have much room (the recording gigs have absolutely none) for adding your own little touches to a performance. With the music in Chicago, he could really throw in a bunch of sexy, sultry pitch changes, add or drop a few notes here and there to make it sound better, and so forth. It was a nice change from the regularly scheduled program. The growled out trombone was pretty wicked. It's so wonderful having an awesome husband.

Seeing this show really cleared up a lot of details for me. I'd never seen the entire show before, and I'd only rented Chicago the movie once, stupidly without realizing beforehand that it was a musical, so I was really pissed when suddenly everyone started singing and turned it off. Thus when we did a few scenes from it in my former ensemble class, I had absolutely no context for any of it and didn't even bother figuring out what was going on. Now everything makes much more sense!

We watched a couple episodes of Buffy last night, and I have so missed everyone's favorite vampire slayer. We watched Halloween, the one where everyone who bought costumes at a particular shop changes into the character they're dressed up as, and Hush, the silent episode which was nominated for an Emmy. Oh Buff, how good it is to see you again. It's even better this time around, since now I have a hilarious husband to bounce snarky comments off of. I think a Buffy marathon is in order.

I was scheduled to have a massage last night, but Deja, who is now doing house calls, evidently got it all bamboozled in her books and it didn't end up happening. This was fine with me, as I had a lovely dinner with Patrick, but we still ended up rearranging the bedroom to try and accommodate her massage table. It turned out well enough that I think we're going to leave it. It's a bit more spacious now. We moved the wicker chest at the end of the bed over against the wall and scooted a bookcase over, along with cramming a kitty pole in the corner over by my side of the bed.

I realize this means nothing to any of you without pictures, but sadly I am otherwise occupied at present and can't get any. Alas.

In this week's edition of Delicious Things You Can Do With Fruit, Patrick made a wonderful dessert for us. Granny Smith apples peeled and rolled in cinnamon sugar, then baked in egg-painted puff pastry and topped with some of that remaining Devonshire cream. Yum! I am a lucky, lucky girl, I tell ya.

Good thing we started up an exercise program...