Grrrr.

I'm afraid that's as articulate as I'm going to get tonight. I went to Divine Comedy with a good friend of ours and (this is the weird part) my bosses. As in the people I work for. I was paranoid beyond belief--and I know you all can picture me paranoid. What if Friend didn't enjoy himself? (I always feel responsible when I ask people to movies or plays and they don't like it. I about drove my siblings crazy when I chose a ride with a long, boring line at Disney World this summer. I don't like amusement parks. They don't amuse. Just give me roller coasters. That's all I need.) What if my bosses didn't enjoy themselves? What if they didn't let me write the DC article after seeing the show? It was just all too dreadful to comprehend.

And you know what: nothing happened. Friend laughed, my bosses laughed, I get to write the article, Friend and I had hot chocolate before I drove him home. Brilliant evening. And then my roommate and I went to the store. And while we were at the store, or maybe it was on the ride home, she got on a "I don't get the point of Divince Comedy" kick. And it felt like a kick. She was questioning why so many smart people would devote themselves to a non-profit group just to get people to laugh. Why wouldn't they be focusing on social commentary? So I argued that comedy can be seen as social commentary. Hell, it is social commentary; some is just more pointed than others. And, while I don't necessarily believe it to be the case for DC, can I just point out that entertainment for entertainment's sake is perfectly okay? We don't have to be uplifted or informed by everything we watch/read/whatever. But she had made up her mind and Friend was no longer there to help me argue. Which I don't know if he would have helped me anyway.

So I come back home and write up a review. Fact: It took me a little while. And fact: I enjoyed the show immensely. I had also been so focused on the people I was with that I didn't note things that didn't work. If there were any, they were such that I don't remember them now. I just remember a thoroughly entertaining evening. This resulted in an uncharacteristically positive review of the show. But it was their "Best of" show. There wasn't room for trash and therefore no reason for a critique of the performance. Just me enjoying myself remembering my favorite sketches. So I asked my roommate to listen to the review--I catch most of my mistakes when I read whatever I wrote out loud. And I get done and her comment is that it's disgusting--too sweet--I wasn't firery enough. What the hell is going on? I wasn't looking to please anyone. I was looking to write my opinion of the show. Does no one expect me to have positive opinions? I know a "real" review would include some of low points. . . but I didn't think there were any. Truly. Madly. Deeply.

I'm hurting my fingers slamming them into the keys like this. I'm going to go slam them into something else. Good night.

P.S. Friend: thank you again. And Kapka, you are super wonderful.