Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Today Kip and I are off to visit Jennifer at the new Circus Amok office/storefront space. How very exciting. We managed to trade some office space for a couple of short performences/happenings, which is fabulous. Don't you love to barter?

Then I have to deliver syrup to Egg, a charming, cozy, delicious, friendly, warm, affordable, happening breakfast spot in Williamsburg. If you go, and I think you should, be sure to bring several of you, so's you can try different things. For one, the "country ham biscuit," which their menu describes as "country ham from col. bill newsom's hams in princeton, kentucky, served on a biscuit with homemade fig jam, grafton cheddar, and a side of grits." How can you pass that up? And that's fig jam from Beth's Farm Kitchen, a Greenmarket institution, by the way. Tell Maggie, at Egg, that I sent you.

We're also going to see Elizabeth Streb's company in their most recent Slam Show, and then of course, this evening, how could you forget, THE TONYs.** This year, I don't really care, except that Cristine Ebersole has to win for Grey Gardens, and Kiki & Herb have to win for "Best Special Theatrical Event." It would be nice to see Vanessa Redgrave win for "The Year of Magical Thinking," even though she probably won't, and the play is somewhat problematic--and I am still one of Joan's disciples.

And thank Witold for this game, which he described as "dumb, but highly addictive."

**Updated: The TONYs sucked. Kiki & Herb were passed over for--no joke--a ventriloquist act. And the rest of the show was about the boringest I've ever seen. But Fantasia sang toward the end, and she blew the roof off.