After a day spent shlepping groceries up four flights of stairs for my boss's French mother,
(Me: Maybe I can take the bags out of the cart and carry those.
Her: Yes, but there are live things.
Me: Live things?
Her: You know. The live ones.
Me: The what?
Her: The lobsters.)
Kat and I saw the Kirov ballet at City Center. Above, a shot from "The Vertiginous Thrill of Exactitude," my favorite. Before the final dance, the intermission was going on awfully long, and some sophisticated audience members decided to do The Clap, like we were at a rock concert, waiting for the band to finish zipping up their pleather jumpsuits or whatever and get on stage.