July 19th, 2011


A good time had at Rufus last night

I had a lovely time at the Royal Opera House with booklectic watching Rufus Wainwright last night. He's got an incredible, creamy voice and listening to him sing the sad songs of Judy Garland has its own kind of special heartbreak, even when he sings "Swanee." Looking at this man performing "the standards" in front of an orchestra and enjoying myself I thought, my God, I have totally lived up to the potential I first showed when I was 15 and hanging out at drag bars with gay men: I utterly and without irony enjoyed an evening I would have sneered at decades ago. (Warning: the following video may cause burning.)

Rufus is at the total peak of his artistic skills anyway so basically I was letting a master take me for a ride. I'll be getting back on that pony on Thursday, when I return to see another show with la_mysterieuse. Woo!

The cat has arrived and is occasionally coming out from her hiding place to say hello. However, it was the traps I bought on Saturday that caught the first mouse last night. I look forward to being utterly rid of them shortly.

Oh yeah. Last night I realized I experience my memories more vividly than many, especially my memories of bad emotional times. Remembering what happened just kicks it all up in my memory again. I think more people probably dampen this stuff down and then don't remember it very well, but for me it kicks up very actively in all of its psycho-dramatic glory. It's part of the reason I don't usually re-approach people I've cut out: if even thinking of them kicks up the nausea and tears, how is "being friends" even possible? Best to stay far away, I think.

Shows! Shows! Shows!

So Sunday was a double header for me - something I almost never do. But a Dickensian promenade sounded too tempting, and the fact it actually was a 20 minute interior show in the end meant the Uncommercial Traveller wound up being better than it might have been given the torrents out doors. As for the promised walk, well, I can still take myself on it.

Almost best of all was that I had booklectic with me for most of the day, but joy! I had a djm4 (newly employed!) and a exedore join us for Mexican Hayride, which none of us liked too much but was at least rendered memorable by the giant piles of racism in act two. Red Indians, anyone? Frankly I'm not too surprised this one has been "lost," as I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. Nice music, though.

Of course both of these were better than A Woman Killed with Kindness, which I saw on Tuesday night. It's down there in the one star zone, where plays live that make you yearn for a chance to run away into the night. Thankfully tonight broke my bad streak with the "Double Feature" at the National - the first play, about surveilled terrorists, was just amazing in a 1984 kind of way. I'll review it soon. Sadly I had to leave before the second act but no way was I heading home at 11 PM. Speaking of which ... time for bed.