René JACOBS's recording of HANDEL's Giulio Cesare is one of those things referred to in music magazines as 'epoch-making' or definitive or something, but my third-favorite aria, Va tacito, is marred by Caesarian breathing in the middle of the word 'cacciator.' Caaaa-(gasp)chator!, like a sneeze. The obbligato for Porno da Caccia is however splendidissimo.
Partied out: Partied out. One last night at V*rs**ll*s and one the night before at the Apartment Formerly Known As the Q***r W*rld. Having got my chat on with more than the usual aplomb Friday night, I was kind of over-exposed to trivialities and last night just wanted to get naughty with somebody. MB stored her shoes in my room.
On being the only guy in a dress at a party
Being the only guy in a dress at a mixed freak/non-freak party is a something I recommend to everybody, really. I was there in a little purple number of SLB's which neither she nor MDM felt they looked good in. It has languished in my closets since their P**l*n* Str**t days. Finally Friday night I brushed it off and put on MEG's pearls with it (hoping to wear another pearl necklace before the end of the night, ha ha ha). I have found the only outfit in the world that makes me look manly. Overjoyed! I wore it with hairy legs and red boots.
Party Last Night: Yes, dancing, yes, booze, yes, people I adore, the most beautiful people I know.
This last statement was, in fact, a cunning ruse. On my other journal, I got more commenting attention than my inbox has ever seen in its life just by remarking in passing that the hot half of my circle of acquaintance was in the house that night. In point of fact, you're all beautiful. Every last one of you. It's just that my last girlfriend had a beard and a harelip and when I see you it makes me sad because I remember her.
I am not recommending any moisturizers this week on Queer Eye for the Literary Critic, nor am I going to use the show's limited budget to splurge (ahem) on a signed copy of Underpants of the Eighties: a retrospective.
Coming attractions: My first non-twin size sleeping space EVER (there's a practical side to my taste for compact men). Also, a forthcoming review of Jan Morris's book on Trieste which I have just now got around to reading. Next on my list, Writergirl's novel, which I have already started, and Casanova's memoirs. Pansexual! Venetian! Eighteenth-Century! Witch and Heretic! Librarian! Is there a child of the Enlightenment I could love more?