Kathy Griffin hits MSG

Having been in a state of dormouse-like hibernation since I returned to Manhattan from London, I decided last Saturday to ramp it up a few gears. After the horror show date the night before, my sanity preservers, Y&GG, abandoned their Bassett hound to whisk in from the outer burbs of Jersey in their super-macho SUV with tickets for Kathy Griffin at Madison Square Gardens.

A KG show is the perfect antidote to hideous dating: not a lot of straight men in that audience. She’s a fierce & funny performer, although to the English ear a woman using the C word isn’t exactly ground breaking or even provocative, but her American audience obviously find her incredibly transgressive, given the gales of laughter & approval that meet her every swear word. She reminds me of an over-pepped, Hello or US Weekly-reading housewife: her two hour set is like being in the company of an over-excited friend who’s just hung out with some celebrities and has to tell you every detail of the encounter.

I was super grateful to les gars for perking me up no end. I do adore them both: they are old friends from London, and it’s beyond blissful to have people here who know me well. It’s the friendship equivalent of a long, hot bath. Although hanging out with them always makes me extremely cross.

They’ve been together for umpteen years, married several years ago, share their lives, house & hound, yet because the American Federal Government refuses to accept civil partnerships contracted outside of the US, Y has no spousal status here. RIDICULOUS. They are more committed than most straight couples I know.