The World Premiere of "WANDERLUST: A History of Walking"

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We're going to New York, bishes! That's right, we'll be performing in SOHO, July 14th thru July 17th.

Am I excited, you ask? Well, I keep whizzing in my panties, so maybe... But then again, it might be the booze. At least I'm not whizzing in other people's panties. Although, that would be fine too. And god knows I've tried.


So, until July in NYC, from May 8th thru the 29th, you can catch us at Cleveland Public Theatre. And if you come, I promise not to whizz in your panties. Not while you're looking anyway.


Nicole Perrone (Photo Credit: Steve Wagner)

“I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought – or thoughtfulness.”

CPT is proud to present the World Premiere of
WANDERLUST: A HISTORY OF WALKING

Adapted + Directed by Matthew Earnest
from the book by Rebecca Solnit

Onstage in the James Levin Theatre May 8 - May 29 at 7:30PM
(with paid previews May 6 and 7; a matinee on Sunday May 16; and a Monday night performance on May 17)


I'm the one with the biggest nostrils. And JUST LOOK AT my handsome fellow cast members! They're beautiful. And I mean that in every sense of the word. (Photo Credit: Steve Wagner)

WANDERLUST opens with a team of paleoanthropologists examining the bones of a recently discovered 3.2 million year-old hominid they have named Lucy, and moves from the peripatetic lectures of the Greeks to modern tourism, from labyrinths to treadmills, from 19th century mountaineering to ancient religious pilgrimage, from Dr. King's civil rights marches to the cake-walk of American slaves, from Jane Austen's strolling couples to Dante's trek through purgatory, and ultimately, to Las Vegas, Solnit's symbol of a post-Walking America.

Performed by:
Kevin S. Charnas (that's me, bishes)
Alexis Generette Floyd
Trae Hicks
Nicole Perrone
Jonathan Ramos
Pandora Robertson
Adam Thatcher

Scene Design: Matthew Earnest with Curtis Young
Costume Design: Alison Garrigan
Lighting Design: Daniel Shreckengost
Sound Design: James Kosmatka
Lucy skeleton: William Bezek (She's GORGEOUS. Fantastic job, Will!)
Choreography: Matthew Earnest with the company
Stage Manager: Lindsay Carter


I'm the one with the biggest chin. (Photo Credit: Steve Wagner)

"It starts with a step and then another step and then another that add up like taps on a drum: the most obvious and the most obscure thing in the world, it wanders readily into religion, philosophy, landscape, urban policy, anatomy, allegory and heartbreak."

"Wanderlust: A History of Walking"

Well, this calls for a celebration. Wine and cowboy boots for everyone!


I'm the one with the wine and cowboy boots. (Photo credit: Matthew Earnest)

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What's Necessary

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So, a little over a week ago, Will and I went to see Tom Ford's film, "A Single Man" with our friends, Tristan and Clancy.

It was a really good film. Set in Los Angeles in the early 60's, it's very stylistic and visually compelling.

And I think Tom Ford does an excellent job of portraying the acuteness and closer scope of vision, metaphorically and literally, that we all have when tragedy strikes.

I strongly recommend seeing it at the theaters while it's out. If you haven't yet seen it, I wouldn't watch any of the clips below. But, to see the high stylization of the film, and how palpable "George's" (played by Colin Firth) heartache is on the big screen is well worth it. It will certainly lose some punch when it's viewed on a small screen, as any movie does.

After the first few minutes of the film, an older woman who was sitting in the row directly in front of us and virtually minutes away from death began talking loudly. She started, "I THINK THIS IS GAY... I THINK THIS MOVIE IS GAY... I THINK THIS MOVIE IS ABOUT GAY PEOPLE!!"

Her ultra-white-hair-covered head was bobbing up and down and turning every which way as though a wreaking ball was going to take her out at any minute. She continued on her rant for the hearing-impaired, "I'M PRETTY SURE THIS MOVIE IS GAY! I'M GOING TO SEE IF I CAN GET MY MONEY BACK!!"

She got up, climbed over 5 people, disrupting everyone and stormed out of the theater never to return. Her permanent exit had NOTHING to do with me following her and stuffing her into a garbage can in the Ladies' Restroom, if you're wondering.

We actually thought it was quite funny and we all guffawed over it.

I have always enjoyed placing the elderly into trash cans. It's a favorite past-time of mine.

So, anyway, during the film, "George and Jim's" 16 year relationship really wasn't taken seriously. Even by the people closest to them. And that was heart-breaking in its own regard.

It was a beautiful film and though it was melancholy, I didn't feel sad so much as I felt grateful. Reminded how temporary it all is... Reminded to be thankful for this very moment, for that's all we really have.

After the film, the four of us went for sushi. And at the dinner table, "Tristan and Clancy" presented us with a card, which also contained a generous gift card inside to one of our favorite shops. It was in honor of our marriage, which they felt they hadn't properly acknowledged. "Tristan and Clancy" are a heterosexual couple, if you're wondering.

We both objected, saying that they didn't have to go through any trouble and that it really wasn't necessary...

They said it wasn't any trouble and it was necessary.

Well, when we opened the card, the front of it said, "BELIEVE".

And on the inside,

"Believe in your dreams. Believe in your love. Believe in forever.

Have a Happy Marriage.

With Love Always,

Clancy and Tristan"

And suddenly, I had a hard time holding back the tears from my dampened eyes...

Some of my oldest, dearest friends (gay and straight), still refer to Will as my "boyfriend". And while I don't refer to him as my "husband", but rather as my "partner". He is. He IS my husband. And I am his.

And acknowledgment from those you love can send one's spirit SOARING. And I was reminded of that.

Thank you... THANK YOU, "Clancy and Tristan". With your belief in us, you help us to believe in ourselves. And that's the biggest gift anyone can ever give...

* "UNCLE! UNCLE!!"
* Where Love Flies
* "I Kevin, Take You Will, To Be Seven Letters..."

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William Bezek's Madame Leota

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So, Sir William Bezek's brilliance has struck again.


Here's the low-down on this hot and sexy, spirited, psychic medium.

Available directly from his blog, or via Wormwood Hollow.

And for all you retards who've never been to Disneyland and have no idea who she is, this is Madame Leota in The Haunted Mansion. And just for the record, I was one of those retards until I met Will and he took me to Disneyland.

Now, I'm just retarded for different reasons.

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The Charnas Family Puerto Rican Christmas Conga Line Tradition

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So, yesterday was a beautiful day; that crystal clear blue sky with a crisp Winter air, but I eventually became a little depressed and then unfortunately, bitchy. So, I went to bed early. As usual, Christmas had just gone too fast for my liking.

I want to share with you a Christmas family tradition that my Mother started some time back, just in the event that you either do the same, or maybe would like to adopt it for your own. Because, it's always fun. Even if at first some of us don't feel like partaking, by the end we're always glad we did. (And just for the record, this can be done with 1 or more people, including animal companions - carry them - unless they're horses or cows, then just drag them along. This can be done at any point over the Christmas season, beginning with Thanksgiving. The more opportunities, the better...)

When Jose Feliciano's "Feliz Navidad" comes on (with my Father at the stereo's helm), my entire family (that would be at least 21 of us, give or take a few) get up, hold hands and proceed to do a conga-line through the entire house. But, we hold hands, not shoulders like a traditional conga-line. It's just easier that way and the line can move faster and cover more ground. Although, we just about bounce my parents' china cabinet over and have actually broken things before, so be forewarned.


Once the lead gets tired of leading, they dramatically turn their head the other direction, which notifies everyone behind them to turn around and start dancing in the opposite direction. The line can (and should) change direction multiple times. We dance for the duration of the song. AND we sing along with Jose at the top of our lungs and hoop and holler as well. It's as though we're possessed by Puerto Ricans/Mexicans for 3 minutes and 5 seconds. Although, I'm sure we're not as graceful and authentic as the real thing. But, we're close.

I had told Will of the family tradition long before he met everyone, but I'm not sure he was prepared for the actual event, in all its glory, to take place. When Will first came into the family and was introduced to everyone (a little overwhelming being that Will comes from a rather small, quiet family and I come from a Greek/Irish heritage that lives out loud...), we were visiting from California for Christmas.

Unfortunately enough, he was literally on the can dropping the kids off at the pool when Dad fired up the song. My oldest brother proceeded to pound on the door (this was upstairs, because the conga-line had travelled up the stairs before eventually heading back down again) every time they passed the bathroom. He kept knocking on the door yelling for Will to come out. In fact, EVERYONE was yelling for poor Will to get off the toilet and join the conga line. I think they were relishing that they had a new inductee. I was in another bathroom and knew that even though I was in a towel, just having gotten out of the shower, I had to partake. So, I danced in my towel.

And Will, being the great sport that he is, cleaned up as soon as he could and came rushing out, grabbing the last hand and danced his way down the stairs. I can only imagine he thought, "What the hell are they doing?? And what have I gotten myself into?? I can't even take a crap without these people being a part of it..."

The version of "Feliz Navidad" always must be the following version of Jose Feliciano's. Thus, the goofy video-clip. (I have NO idea who the two people are that briefly show up in the video.) I found other, more recent versions, but they're just not the same.

If you're even entertaining the thought of adopting this into your own family, I strongly encourage it. Add hats or wigs for that extra bit of icing if you'd like. All I can tell you is that it's always fun. And like conversing around a dinner table, respectfully, yet also poking fun at one another. Like laughing hard and smiling as big as you can, as often as you can, there is no substitute for dancing. And Christmas, like LIFE in general, just goes too fast not to.

FELIZ NAVIDAD, BISHES! BAILAR! BAILAR! MAS RAPIDO!!


And please feel free to add Koalas, especially if you want your eyes scratched out.

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William Bezek's "Father Christmas"

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So, you may remember that Will's work was featured in


Early American Life.

He was featured for


"Mother Shipton" and


"Father Christmas".

Both one of a kinds. And now, Mother Shipton resides in a private collection.

Will was featured quite awhile back for his one of a kind "Father Christmas" works in the book;


Santa Dolls, Historical To Contemporary, by Ann Bahar


"A 20 inch Father Christmas sculpture constructed using traditional creche style figure techniques. Original sculpted head cast in chalkware and hand painted. Cloth, cotton batting, wooden rod, and wire armature mounted to a handcrafted wooden base with German glass glitter snow. Finish details include hand stitched costuming with a heavy wire hem for shaping, vintage fabric and tinsel, lambskin beard, and 120 year old cardboard used to construct the gift box. Each piece is a signed original and varies depending on materials and artistic mood. I always try to incorporate vintage and natural based supplies and avoid anything ready made creating everything from scratch in keeping with traditional arts and crafts, the end result is a unique family heirloom that looks like a cherished antique."

One of a kind "Father Christmas" over at Will's Wormword Hollow.

Because Will's just a total badass, bishes... That's what I'm talkin' bout... Dang.

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Día de los Muertos

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When I was first introduced to "Dia de los Muertos", the Mexican Day of the Dead Celebration, by Will, being still kind of a gringo from Ohio, I really wasn't sure what to make of it.

At St. Pius Catholic Church in Warren, Ohio, they had tainted the water with the thoughts that we should be afraid of skulls and skeletons, even though the last time I checked, I'm pretty sure we all have them tucked behind our facades. And if I'm not mistaken, they're actually what's holding us up, no?


Will and his Mom took me by train from Santa Barbara down to Olvera Street in Los Angeles and I fell in love with the whole thing. I. LOVED. IT. It wasn't morbid to me in the least, but rather very real and spiritually palpable.


Papel Picado Decorations: part of the Mexican Day of the Dead tradition (Do-It-Yourself) (source)

"It's not about celebrating 'Death', but celebrating LIFE."

And a bottle of Tequila brought once a year to your grave site wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Although... Now that I think of it, the last time I drank a bottle of Tequila and smoked a cigar, I tore up all the bathroom carpeting in my parent's home, barfed, came to, then wondered who tore up all the carpet and puked all over the place.

My girlfriend at the time was sitting on the side of the bathtub watching the destruction take place and when I "came to" and asked, "Who the fuck tore up all the carpet and barfed all over the place?"

She just looked at me and replied, "YOU did, you dickhead."

And so it seems, I did...

So, yeah. I'm not certain the Tequila at my grave site would be such a great idea...

But I suppose, that if I were just a skeleton, I wouldn't actually have a stomach, so thus, nothing to barf up. But, I'd still have phalanges, so in theory, I could still rip up the lining of my casket, right? But... If I were dead, would I care?

Would somebody slap me, please?


Day of the Dead mosaic by British artist Martin Cheek (source)

More than 500 years ago, when the Spanish Conquistadors landed in what is now Mexico, they encountered natives practicing a ritual that seemed to mock death.

It was a ritual the indigenous people had been practicing at least 3,000 years. A ritual the Spaniards would try unsuccessfully to eradicate.

A ritual known today as Día de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead.


The ritual is celebrated in Mexico and certain parts of the United States.

Although the ritual has since been merged with Catholic theology, it still maintains the basic principles of the Aztec ritual, such as the use of skulls.

Today, people don wooden skull masks called calacas and dance in honor of their deceased relatives. The wooden skulls are also placed on altars that are dedicated to the dead.


Sugar skulls, made with the names of the dead person on the forehead, are eaten by a relative or friend, according to Mary J. Adrade, who has written three books on the ritual.

The Aztecs and other Meso-American civilizations kept skulls as trophies and displayed them during the ritual. The skulls were used to symbolize death and rebirth.

The skulls were used to honor the dead, whom the Aztecs and other Meso-American civilizations believed came back to visit during the monthlong ritual.


Arbol de la Vida (source)

Unlike the Spaniards, who viewed death as the end of life, the natives viewed it as the continuation of life. Instead of fearing death, they embraced it. To them, life was a dream and only in death did they become truly awake.

"The pre-Hispanic people honored duality as being dynamic," said Christina Gonzalez, senior lecturer on Hispanic issues at Arizona State University. "They didn't separate death from pain, wealth from poverty like they did in Western cultures."

However, the Spaniards considered the ritual to be sacrilegious. They perceived the indigenous people to be barbaric and pagan.

In their attempts to convert them to Catholicism, the Spaniards tried to kill the ritual.


Artist: Patrick Murillo (source)

But like the old Aztec spirits, the ritual refused to die.

To make the ritual more Christian, the Spaniards moved it so it coincided with All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day (Nov. 1 and 2), which is when it is celebrated today. (read more)


UNA COPA MAS by Robert Pace Kidd (source)

So, let us celebrate continuation and eternal life... the best for last...

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ATTENTION, MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE... ALL GHOULS IN THE NORTH, PLEASE REPORT TO GHOULTIDE GATHERING. I REPEAT...

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Ghoultide Gathering, Bishes!


So, Will was selected to have some of his work appear in Early American Life, which was very cool. (His post on being selected.)

While I'm still being considered for "The Biggest American Jackass Life". It will be SUCH an honor if I'm selected because there are so many others in the running.


One of two pieces that Will created that was selected to appear in the magazine was "Mother Shipton" (one of the first recorded Witches).


And she's simply amazing... The detail just blows my panties off. Truly. They're hanging off the lamp across the room from where I'm sitting right now. Of course, everything is hand-sculpted, hand sewn and made from scratch. And Mother Shipton will be accompanying Will up to Michigan for Ghoultide Gathering. So, if you're in the area and able, you should go and spank Will on his bottom for me.

***William Bezek

***Ghoultide Gathering!

***11x17gg09poster.pdf

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EXTRA, EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT IT: William Bezek For One Day Only At Halloween And Vine!!

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So, it's that time again...


(Studio Time)

When the changing angle of the Sun reminds us that the days are becoming shorter. And the leaves begin to turn with that slight, fresh crisp in the air... And we gently wave our panties in the air like we just don't care.

WOO-HOO!!!

No?

Oh... It must be just my family then...

For those supa-fine bishes who are up in Northern California and are so inclined, the famed Halloween and Vine is taking place in Petaluma this coming Saturday for one day only, BISHES!!! And Will and his hot-self is going to be there along with his incredible work.

We used to drive up every year from our home in Santa Barbara, but this year, boyfriend is flying. And I, unfortunately won't be able to attend due to our finances.

But, if you'll allow me to brag a little, here's some of his brilliant creations that he's been working on. Everything has been made from scratch. The sculpted faces, hands, shoes, bodies... The clothes are to period and hand-sewn. Even the furniture that he constructed for the Voodoo Queen he hand-made.


Newly Departed


From The Pumpkin Patch


New Orleans - The Land of Voodoo Queens


The handsome and dashing, and unbelievably talented, I would venture to say, "genius", actually, William Bezek.


Halloween and Vine

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Goodbye, "Hello/Goodbye"...

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"Hello/Goodbye" by William Bezek, (9 x 12, oil on canvas) leaves us to go and reside in the private collection of Molly and The Baron.

"Hello/Goodbye", I shall miss you, but I find comfort knowing that you are going to a good home where you will be loved and cherished and I shall see you again... So, until next time, I'll bid you a fond adieu.

*** Introducing William Bezek's, Pans Garden, which features Will's paintings and sculptures. ***

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Gifts Come In All Shapes And Sizes And Sometimes... Piles

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So unfortunately, yesterday, while working in the garden with a shovel (of which I've been doing for 4 days straight... or 4 days gay), I accidentally lopped the head off of our garden Budda. It actually went rolling in the mulch...

When Will returned home from the market, I confessed, albeit reluctantly, that I had knocked the head off of the deity with a shovel. He just looked at me, grabbed the Budh-miester, his head and stormed into the house muttering, "I suppose you enjoy peeing on the Baby Jesus too."

I don't... If you're wondering. I probably would've tea-bagged one of the hot shepherds behind the manger and maybe spanked a wise man or so, but that's a story for another time...

So, Will stormed off to glue Siddhartha's head back on and I fondly remembered an incident from last week...

We have birds.

Cockatiels, to be more precise. I'm not sure if you knew that.

The small flock started out with


this asshole, Evil Betty.

He (yes, HE) was named from the villain, who also happens to be male, from the film "Kung Pow".


Will and I watched this movie years ago when we were extremely... uumm... baked and laughed our asses off. Although, you probably could've just shut the TV off and we still would've laughed as hard.

I acquired "Betty" before I was living with Will. We were dating, but I had my own place then. It was in Santa Barbara and my schedule didn't really allow for dogs, and I was jonesing for a dog.

So, I got a bird.

And I often wish I hadn't.

It's not that I don't like them. I mean, really, what's not to like? They scream really loud and are messy and shit all over the place and occasionally bite you and draw blood. Why, it's just like being married, so what's not to like?

Actually, I have a moral dilemma about humans keeping birds. They have wings to fly and what do we do? We put them in cages... (As we should our spouses.)

Granted, they usually live longer in captivity if they're well cared for, but I believe it goes along the lines of the whole quality verses quantity argument of life. If you're meant to fly, but aren't allowed, but you live twice as long, but in an environment a fraction the size of what your world would have been otherwise, what would you choose?

I mean, being alive and living are two different things, right?

So anyway, I've had this


asshole since he was a chick.

And no, he's technically not an "asshole", I know... But, he can sure act like one. Which usually is a pretty good indication that I'm not paying enough attention to him.

Hhhmmm... Could this be representative of not just birds, but our dogs and cats and maybe even our children acting out when they aren't receiving enough love and support, and maybe even adults as well?

I think that we should IMMEDIATELY start paying more attention to one another. What do you think? Are you with me??

Sorry, just thinking out-loud again and not-so-secretly planning for my days of World domination with unabashed love and compassion... and public spankings.

Okay, so... You've met Evil Betty.

Well, we've acquired a few more along the way.

We adopted two from Will's mom and renamed them;


Inglebird Humpersnip and Celine Dion. (This is not an actual picture of them, but you know, all the feathers are in the right places.) Celine Dion is a diva, yes. But, a reluctant one... He's more bark than bite... Or more chirp than peck. And Inglebird Humpersnip is actually a very sweet little bird who just wants loved.

And then, there's


Cher. And he's a total bitch. If he could turn back time (or rather, TIIIOOHHHMM, IF HE COULD TUURRNN BACK TIIIOOHHMM!", he'd do it just so he could bite me more.

Besides being loud and messy... And the whole moral dilemma (I hope we have a green house one day, where I can just let them fly around to their heart's content, until they bank off a window and snap their necks), I really do love them. Well, love might be kind of strong... But, they are extremely funny. And each one has a unique personality.

And yes, they're all fuckers. But, they're unique fuckers.

I used to take them in the shower with me and they'd all just line up on my ginormous peep and spread their wings to get wet. Thank god there was enough room on it. I probably could've fit another 50 birds with room to spare.

Actually, I did used to take Betty and Cher into the shower, and I'm not sure if I've ever seen anything so truly beautiful as these two little creatures trying to take a bath in the palms of my hands...

But, they preen one another


and try to groom us as well. As you can probably gather, our relationship with them is a love/hate kind of thing.

Well, the other day, I was preparing their food in the Kitchen and


Evil Betty was on my shoulder. Will walked in and Betty started spreading his wings in a loving gesture towards Will (he loves Will. I think he wants to tea-bag him). So, I said, "Will, give him kisses! He LOVES you. Give him kisses..."

So, Will leaned over towards Betty and my shoulder, kind of closing his eyes (big mistake) and going, "Oh, HI Betty! Hi there!" smooch, smooch, smooch. And all of a sudden, Will started gagging, but with his mouth closed and mumbling, "MMMMM!!! MMMMM!!!" And he ran to the sink freaking out, pointing at his own mouth.

I didn't know what the hell happened to him and when I looked at him, he had a pile of bird shit on his lips. He had KISSED a small pile of Betty's SHIT on my shoulder.

He proceeded to freak out over the sink, washing his mouth and face profusely, all the while screaming close-mouthed, "MMMM!!! MMMM!!!", and I thought, Sometimes god works in mysterious ways... and her gifts come in all shapes and sizes and sometimes piles... And I thanked the heavens for their sense of humor.

So, last night as Will stomped into the house with Budda's body in one hand and his severed head in the other, I conjured that recent memory of a pile of bird shit on Will's lips and thought, That's the gift that keeps on giving..., at least for awhile anyway.

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Happy Mother's Day!

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Sponsor natural habitat for as little as $20 in your Mother's name. That way, you're giving to two Mothers... Your Mom and Mother Earth. Or just give her vodka... Or a nice big jug of Carlo Rossi. That's what I'm doing.

Or, give her a gift from Heifer International!

Yeah, we're not doing either... But, WE DID LAST YEAR, FUCKERS!!

Happy Mother's Day to all of you Mother Goddesses out there...


The World would be nothing without you.

"Goddesses" (oil on canvas 32x48) by William Bezek. Private Collection.
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The Cricket Feet Casting Actors Showcase

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A few weeks ago, I met some friends of mine and Will's down in Santa Monica for lunch. We met at Houston's at noon (I was 15 minutes delayed by traffic) and by 12:45 pm, I was cross-eyed from the Bloody Mary's. Well, after 5 Vodka and somethings, 2 Long Islands, and 3 Bloody Mary's, we were either ready for naps, detox, or at least, the Dinner Menu.

I think that the staff got tired of having to say, "I'm over here..." when we would order another drink and our vision and line-of-sight wasn't exactly what we hoped it would be at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

It was a fantastic time with them, although Will was sorely missed. And it's so easy being around them both.

And just who are "them both"?

Well, last Thursday night, I was fortunate enough to be invited by the truly beautiful,


Casting Director and Writer, Bonnie Gillespie and her very charming husband, Actor and Writer, Keith Johnson, to attend,


The Cricket Feet Casting Actors Showcase

Unfortunately, I couldn't have this


sexy beast (my husband) as my date.

So, my date was to be one of the next best things,


The performance artist, Auntie Biotic.

But, no. NNNOOOOOOOOOO... Bish had to get caught in traffic.

MUCHO ESTUPIDO TRAFFIC!!

Well, I went by myself. And the event was everything that I thought it would be considering it was Bonnie who is the mastermind behind it.

It was very organized and seemed to work like clock-work. Again, knowing Bonnie, I wasn't surprised.

The guests arrived on the red carpet, where we checked in and had our name tags on lanyards waiting for us by extremely polite, gorgeous women. Then, the photographer was next, where pictures were taken of guests arriving to the showcase. I honestly think that it made everyone feel special and famous for a moment. And certainly added to the excitement in the air.
Although, at one point, I saw a would-be photographer lose a grip on his camera to where it looked like it was thrust from his hands where it then BOUNCED off a metal table. And by the resulting expression on his face, the outcome looked bleak.

There was an open bar and hors d'oeuvres before the show. Then, the showcase kicked off and consisted of 39 actors in two or more scenes that lasted roughly 4 minutes each, spanning 90 minutes. And thankfully, there was a lot of talent on that stage (in the writing AND the acting) and it was all comedy.

Again, clockwork. The exits and entrances were practically seamless and it was easy to watch and hysterically offensive sometimes.

A thinning haired, heavily muscled and tattooed transsexual packed into a tiny cocktail dress, that was teetering on a pair of heels ended up sitting next to me, (she could've picked me up over her head and threw me at least 40 feet). Up until then, the event had seemed rather sophisticated, yet approachable. And once the mack-truck in the dress sat next to me, I honestly thought, "Oh thank god. If I'm going to be date-less, at least a transsexual is sitting next to me. And I hope that everyone thinks she's with me... And... And... I hope that they all think that behind closed doors she pulls my hair and spanks my bottom... And throws me over the couch."

Life just seems so much more vibrant with a heavily muscled transsexual, squished into a dress and heels, sitting next to you. And if not "vibrant", then AT LEAST more interesting.

The MC's of the evening were the extremely bright and funny couple,


Diani & Devine. I know that they look like investment bankers, but you're just going to have to trust me. Their comic sense of timing is perfect and I was almost giddy watching them. I posted their popular short "Girl's Night Out" on Friday evening. And the sequel to that is down below. So, don't just "trust me", see for yourself:

"Dating Without Desperation" by Diani & Devine

There was a complete reception following the performances with yet still, another open bar and a full buffet of Mexican food. I couldn't have requested better myself. I loaded my plate with food and headed to a corner by an open door of The Colony Theatre (in Burbank) and held up a wall while I ate. I people-watched (one of my all-time favorite activities, if you hadn't guessed) and congratulated the actors on their work. I saw my transsexual side-kick/silent date stomping around the place, waving to people with hands as big as dinner plates and shoving burritos into her mouth. And I smiled. Contemplating how far she could throw me and knowing that my evening was better for having sat next to her and she didn't even know it...

I then found Keith and congratulated him on his performance as well and thanked Bonnie profusely for the invite. It really was lovely and just all around fun. An event that I'd go to gladly many times over.

I said "Goodbye" knowing that I, myself, had a performance the next day and I needed my rest. And I still had over a 90 minute drive back to Santa Barbara.

As though I hadn't been missing Will terribly the whole evening already... Now, I had the drive home to feel it. And it hurt. But luckily, I had 90 minutes of funny memories to keep me company.

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