There are few things as tormenting as having a cold on the day of a show, but here I am, in my own hell at the snotty end of a cold on the day of a show.

At least (I think) I'll be able to sing tonight. As always, these zinc lozenges have been a source of fortune. Things could be much worse.

Thursday night we headed out to the Factory Theatre down by Copley to catch a our friend Crystal in a performance of Neil Simon's The Gingerbread Lady and she was absolutely brilliant. (I believe this was Happy Medium Theatre's first full production.) We'd seen Crystal several times before, but this was the first time we'd seen her in a central role—or starring, if you will—and it was one of those moments you realize that you have really, really talented friends. Our buddy Michael Fisher also had a role in the play (pivotal, but shorter than we would have liked), and he pulled it off magically. Hell, the entire cast was great. I'm still shaken by the show. If you haven't had a chance to see it, there's a showing tonight at 8pm (eww, awkward scheduling conflict) and another tomorrow at 3pm. After that, you're shit out of luck, son.

Anyway, I've got some more tea to mainline before the show tonight. I'll see you there. Or else I will find you. And then I will sneeze on you.

Henry