"No one knows where the night is going."

I'm wearing the skirt today. You know, the one that has a mind of its own and causes me to flash the New York City populace? If previous skirt wearing is any indication, I should expect a little old lady pulling on it by noon. Look at me flirting with potential embarrassment.

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Last night DK (aka Mr. Bad Apologies), some friends, and I went to see Antony and the Johnsons at Town Hall -- an event that would surely act as a magnet for every gay man and woman in a 10 mile radius. And sure enough, I followed the trail of gay men from Times Square to the venue.

Before Monday, I had never heard of anything by Antony and the Johnsons and DK wanted to know why I even agreed to go. Sometimes it's fun to try new things, which is one of the many reasons I decided to move to New York. That said, I am very glad that I decided to go. Antony's voice is achingly beautiful. (Side note: a big WTF to the people sitting in front of me. If you didn't want to be there, you could have gone down and hung out at the bar instead of talking and getting out of your seats every 10 fucking minutes.)

After the concert, I persuaded DK and the boys to get a nightcap. This is when I regale everyone with my celebrity sighting of Timothy Hutton, who left the restaurant shortly before us. Though I should say that if DK is reading this, he will point out that I didn't even notice Timothy Hutton leaving the restaurant. I was too busy finishing off my thirdish glass of wine.