Get Me The Eff Outta Here

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UPDATE: I just bought my ticket for this Tuesday's performance of Neil LaBute's Wrecks, starring Ed Harris at the Public. I am indeed looking forward to it.

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How long has this week been going on? Is it finally fucking over? Jesus Christ.

Ahem.

For some reason, this felt to be like one of the longest and slowest weeks in recent history, and it's technically not over yet (I still have another three hours before I can leave the land of the mortgage press and go frolic in the Rotten Apple).

I'm going to make this entry very quick, since I have to wrap up some things for work before I head off into the wild grey yonder. Now that the week is over, here are a few things related to the land of theatre that may be of some interest...

I've just purchased my ticket for tonight's performance of The Committee Theatre's production of Ken Urban's play I (Heart) Kant. Based on the reviews (and my enjoyment of the reading of Mr. Urban's play, Nibbler) I'm looking forward to it.

This Saturday at 2 p.m. at Elebash Recital Hall at the CUNY Graduate Center on 365 5th Avenue (at 34th Street), CUNY will host a panel of bloggers and theatre journalists as part of the Prelude '06 Festival to talk about the future of theatre journalism and how the theatre blogs may or may not affect said journalism. David Cote, theatre editor for Time Out New York will be moderating, and George Hunka, Garrett Eisler and Isaac Butler, among others, will be on the panel. It could be very enlightening.

On Saturday night, Tuckaberry Productions are holding a Prohibition-era speakeasy-style fundraiser from 7 to 10 p.m. at The Great Room at A.R.T. NY on 189 South Oxford Street in Brooklyn. Folks will be singing classic jazz standards, there will be some poker playing and of course food and libations will be served. Take the M, N, Q, R, W, 2, 3, 4 5 to Atlantic/Pacific, or the C to Lafayette, or the G to Fulton. Admission to the event is just $10.

Okay, that's it for me for the week; I'm off like a prom dress. Have a good weekend, mes chéris.

Inexplicably tired,

James "Lazy Bastard" Comtois