Every day is opening night.

“What Can You Lose?”

Ladies and gents,

The heat is out in my apartment and my fingers feel like they are going to snap off with every keystroke. Let’s make this short
and sweet, shall we? Adding to my less-than-festive mood is that fact that I’m reducing. (Reducing is a nice way of saying starving myself.) I’m on a strict Eastern European diet that an Uber driver told me about called the Buckwheat Diet. Basically, all I’m allowed is buckwheat porridge in whatever quantity I desire (well, truth be told, I desire none, so really in whatever quantity I need to survive) and up to one litre of low fat kefir each day. My driver did it for a month. He lost fifteen pounds. I’m trying it for a week. I’m hoping to lose sixty. This is day one. It’s torture.

Why am I so committed to rapid weight loss? Next week is Valentine’s Day and I have big plans. I’m attending a midnight
showing of 50 Shades of Grey.

Tidbits from around town…

Spotted Jake Gyllenhaal and Ruth Wilson at Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

Caught Billy Crudup heading into the courthouse. “Who are you suing, Billy?” I shouted out of the window of my cab. “No one, Scoop. I’m on jury duty.”

And finally, happy birthday to my old buddy and sparring partner Liz Smith, who turned an astonishing 92 on Monday!

As always, a toast of something sparkling to you and yours!