Once again, I must clarify a remark I made about my boyfriend in this blog. Three days ago, I suggested that Rob might have written the anti-dog letter to an advice column, as it described some canine features that are shared by Goblin (and, in fact, by all dogs). This was an unfortunate joke. Rob, in fact, adores my dog, and vice versa. They may like each other more than they like me. I regret any misinterpretations of my boyfriend's character my comment may have generated.

On the other hand, all of the comments about how wonderful, fascinating, and handsome he is are accurate. Case in point, last night, after cooking me a delicious dinner of lemon chicken, he took me to see Movin' Out, a dance show on Broadway featuring the music of Billy Joel. This sweet gesture was not marred by the sad fact that it was a conceptual catastrophe. While I am not sure I am fully equipped to appreciate modern dance, the performances in this case seemed competent. (I was much more fully equipped to appreciate the tight pants on some of the male dancers.) The show itself, however, was so nebulously devised that after an eternal first act (featuring all of the Billy Joel songs I flip past on the radio), we walked out at the intermission and went to see Red Dragon on 42nd Street.

We both thought the blood, gore, and psychological trauma were more enjoyable by far.

If you take one thing from this blog entry, let it be this: Rob is wonderful, fascinating, handsome, and a friend to all animals (except possibly crocodiles, or at least the mean ones).