Harry Potter got...hot!  Dan Radcliffe, the actor who plays Harry Potter, is performing in London in a play called Equus.  This play, by the way, is performed nude.  Seriously.  (And I didn't just research it because Dan Radcliffe is hot, I actually read it in college.)  The main character (Dan), has an "encounter" with a girl in his family's stable.  Overcome with guilt, he stabs out the eyes of all the horses who were in the stable and "saw" them.  Not a 17-year-old's typical reaction to that particular experience, but I guess a round of high-fives with your buddies doesn't make for a dramatic script.  Interesting though, if your average Joe wrote this play, it would be pornography (insert your own joke about potential titles here), but if you're a well-known playwright then it's apparently art.  They've released publicity photos for the play; here's a particularly good one.

I don't want to talk to you.

This is not a personal affront, because I don't know you, and I'm trying to keep it that way.  If I'm sitting next to you on a plane, waiting next to you in the doctor's office, standing next to you in the insanely long line at the post office*, and especially if I'm sitting in the massage chair at the nail place having my toes done, I don't want to talk to you.  I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm probably annoyed at waiting, or if I'm having a pedicure I'm blissful, and I just don't want to chat.  If you ask me if I made my scarf, and I politely reply no, that I have no interest in crochet, that is code for "I don't want to have a 30 minue conversation about all the stitches that make up my scarf (since, again, I didn't make it), nor do I care about the knitted blanket your granddaughter got for her last birthday."  Like I said, it's nothing personal, but I'm never going to see you again, and I have my own thoughts to deal with. 

I don't know why people are compelled to make inane small talk.  Uncomfort with silence? The hope that of 100 people, maybe they'll meet 1 really interesting one?  I'm willing to take the chance I'm going to miss meeting a really interesting person, because talking makes me tired.  I want to read my book, work my crossword, stare into space and daydream.  But I don't want to talk to you.

*The post office, by the way, exemplifies every reason monopolies are illegal.  Illegal unless the federal government wants to have one, then of course it's perfectly appropriate.  I hate the post office.

Longer post (and pics) later about my weekend in Fredericksburg, but for now a quote I saw posted in a little wine bar we visited:

Men are like wine.  They start out as grapes, and women must pound the crap out of them until they become something acceptable to have dinner with.

Hee.

Perry didn't find it as funny as I did.  I can't imagine why.

Quotes from the night:

"Happy New Year.  Stephanie is my co-maid of honor.  Peace out, bi-atch."

"Don't ask Chris to get undressed.  It's not that he looks bad, but he is wearing argyle socks."

Someone explaining to Steph how to blow the party horns: "Stephanie, don't just blow the horn, seduce the horn."
Stephanie: "Is this why I don't have a boyfriend?"

And the first Darwin Award of 2006: On the drive back to San Antonio on New Year's Day, I saw a bumper sticker modeled after the yellow "Support Our Troops" ribbon.  But this one has marijuana plants on it and says "Support My Habit".  Now if that isn't begging for probable cause to have his car searched, I don't know what is!

See the full New Year's Eve party album here.