Where the hell did this weather come from? We barely get a real spring and then BOOM, it’s like the middle of July. I’ve had to walk outside of my office building to two different meetings today, and it’s just icky. It’s days like this that I start missing winter.

Since last night’s Tony Awards broadcast, my site has received a number of hits from Google searches for “Sarah Paulson gay.” Yes, the actress who plays Laura Wingfield in the current Broadway revival of “The Glass Menagerie” is the girlfriend of Cherry Jones, star of Broadway’s “Doubt,” and yes, it is Sarah whom Cherry kissed last night before going up to receive her award, and yes, that’s why she referred to Laura Wingfield in her acceptance speech.

Matt and I had a busy weekend. It was basically The Weekend We Spent on the Subway.

On Friday night we went all the way up to Harlem for our weekly movie gathering – this week it was “All Over the Guy” and “The Broken Hearts Club,” both of which I’d seen before. (I originally saw “The Broken Hearts Club” at the Chelsea Clearview in a theater full of queens. What an experience.) Watching these movies back to back allowed me to compare them. They both take place in L.A., both have nary a chest hair in sight, and both use odd slang. I was going to criticize both movies for having scenes in which gay men unrealistically describe things using cryptic initials, but then I found myself referring to some little boy on TV yesterday as an F.I.T. (fag in training), so I can’t really criticize it anymore. Still, you really shouldn’t use initials unless everyone in the conversation knows what they mean; otherwise it comes off as obnoxious. (I do criticize the men in “Broken Hearts Club” for referring to people as “[Blank] Guy,” like “J. Crew Guy” or “Purple Guy.” In my circles it’s not “Guy” but “Boy.” For instance, a friend of mine used to refer to this particularly pretentious and verbose guy he dated as “Efficacious Boy,” because that was one of the guy’s typical pretentious words.)

On Saturday afternoon we rode the Staten Island Ferry, which, admittedly, didn’t involve the subway, but I did want to mention it.

On Saturday night we went uptown again – from Battery Park (or thereabouts), way up to Washington Heights, for Jon and JP’s apartment-warming party. The gays were in one room, the straights in the other. I drank too much; I basically skipped the fun part of being drunk and went right to feeling ill and nearly falling asleep on Jon and JP’s apartment floor. Fortunately, my sweet boyfriend took excellent care of me. After the party, a few of us got on the subway, and when the train started moving I thought I was going to be sick. I leaned against Matt’s shoulder and fell asleep around 168th Street, and the next thing I knew we were at 59th Street and his arm was around me. Several subway stops later, we were home.

Last night, before the Tonys, we went out to dinner with my parents and my brother and his girlfriend, because my dad, my brother and my brother’s girlfriend all had birthdays last week. We ate at the new Bar Room at MoMa, which was absolutely wonderful. I had grilled shrimp with a green cabbage and gruyere salad, followed by sesame-encrusted tuna; my dessert, which was out of this world, was a few beignets with maple ice cream, caramel & citrus mango marmelade. I also had a Mango Passion Mojito. It was an outstanding meal. Go there if you can.

Now that The Weekend We Spent on the Subway is over, we might need The Weekend in Front of the TV. I’m kidding; I enjoy tooling around the city. As long as next weekend isn’t as hot as it was yesterday and today.