Please pardon my absence

One of my color schemes. It looks better in natural light - honest.

It’s been two weeks since my last post and things have, at moments, been heinous. I’m in the process of painting my new apartment. It seems so easy on those home improvement shows. Voila! Here’s your fabulous new living space. Bullshit. It’s hard, tedious work – but things are shaping up nicely.

I hate moving. I hate it, hate it, hate it! The only good thing about it is that packing sometimes brings you eye-to-eye with those special little things that you haven’t seen for years. I’m a huge collector of gewgaws and tchotchkes and the amount of unique crap that I have is, at moments, completely overwhelming. As I carefully wrap them, I think back on who I bought it with, what was the occasion -- misty water colored memories, and all that jazz.

I also have to admit that I was a little shocked to see my previous post made its way to the RFT. I was a little surprised that no one from the RFT contacted me about the story - they just quoted the blog. I suppose, in this day and age, that blog material is public domain.

Nevertheless, folks still responded to it. So I guess the old adage that all press is good press still holds true. Thanks to everyone who has written or called over the past two weeks. Your support was really appreciated. I’m even not that upset by my detractors because I fundamentally believe in the act of self-expression (although comparing me to John Wayne Gacy is a tad tacky and unnecessary). The issue that still burns my craw is the inconsistent admittance policy that remains at JJs. Lifting the ban for “special occasions” kinda reminds me of that scene outta Hairspray - “Negro Day is the last Thursday of the month.” That kind of “your kind/our kind” mentality is so inconsistent with the efforts the GLBT community is trying to accomplish. Or maybe I’m missing something from the your kind can’t get married debate.

Ms. Badu's old hair

Anyway, enough of talking about that farkate bar. I did see two incredible shows this weekend. Erykah Badu rocked the house Friday, as did Rufus Wainwright last night. Both artists produced shows that entertained as well as lead to moment of deep, reflective contemplation (ahem)…… But I’ll be the first to admit that the outfits at Ms. Badu’s show ratcheted up the fashion barometer to almost-bursting. Apparently, culottes, spike heels, and the shredded dress are the looks for today’s style-hungry diva.

Mr. Wainwright's wounded knight look

As for Ms. Badu – she seemed to take her fashion cue from this Halstony/Helen of Troy flowing, pleated, tan number. And her new hair was to her knees (a hair burner pal says the weave took two days and was at least $700). Another friend of mine remarked, “If I had hair that long, there’d be a cat up in there…car keys….gum…..I’d be falling over it.” Ms. Badu had no such problem – but she did seem a tad toned down from her last performance (or so I’ve been told). Granted, she is pregnant....but I really wanted to see those knee-high Parliament style-inpsired boots.

I didn’t know what to expect from Rufus Wainwright. I was surprised by how butch he looked. He has some muscles – not like porn star muscles – but he had a nice healthy look to him. He filled out his pants nicely. He was however, wearing a really tragic do-rag that he compared to “Axl Roses’s gay cousin Bob.” I think he said Axl – but you get the drift.

Oh! and they both sang real good, too. If you want a review, check out Kevin Johnson's.

The only bummer about last night is that I missed the Finale. But the news is covering Carrie’s choice like it was the freaking revolt in Haiti…oh, yeah…..they’re covering it more than the revolt in Haiti. And folks say I’m trifling.

Posted February 23, 2004 01:21 AM