Beat That, Whitman's

Well, my Valentine's Day involved a room full of dead cats, violent illness in a subway station bathroom, commemorative glow sticks, men dancing awkwardly while dressed as nuns, silly string, and Rufus Wainwright singing in drag as Judy Garland. Oh, and Mrs. Nator was there, too.

How was yours?

Gaydate

That's right, Natorettes, children have playdates, but lesbians have gaydates.

My gaydate last night with Mrs. Nator - the first since going to the hospital! - was particularly gay, too. We started off with cheese fondue and red wine at a little place near the Theatre District (or Hell's Kitchen, as the real estate agents are calling everything between Chelsea and the Upper West Side nowadays.) There was some drunken fumbling with baklava and some faulty bandaging (caution: your neighbours at the next café table might not appreciate seeing your red, beefy leg insides right when they are about to tuck into an entrée of fondued meatballs), and then we went on to a show.

What show, may you ask? Why Charles Busch's off-Broadway theatrical version of Die Mommy Die!, of course. I've been a fan of Busch's since the early nineties, when I heard him singing in the shower via our apartment building shaftway. Sadly, as many times as I meant to go see it, I missed seeing Vampire Lesbians of Sodom during its NY run (revival, anyone?). But Busch was in full high drag effect as washed-up starlet Angela Arden (or is she?), desperate murderess, last night, which partially made up for that loss. Actually, as Mrs. Nator put it, what Busch does is beyond high drag. We're not exactly sure what to call it, except that it is both drag and Art. Camp surpassed by intimate understanding and acting ability and then twisted back into itself as gasp-inducing, physically trembling, poop-humour hilarious camp.

"Darling, this long scarf is a fabulous gift, but why do you keep calling me 'Isadora'?”

The rest of the cast was wonderful, too, especially newcomer Ashley Morris as Edith and the delightfully physical Chris Hoch, whom we remembered fondly from Spamalot, as Tony Parker. However, just to put it all over the top into squee-inducing homofabulosity was soap opera twinkie-boy Van Hansis as the dimwitted sexbomb Lance. Why? Because Van Hansis not only plays the sad, blonde, recently paralyzed (or is he?) half of the gay boy duo Luke and Noah (AKA "Nuke," in gaymo/fangirl circles) on ABC's As The World Turns, but his stage name is Van Hansis for Christ's sake. I mean, is that the sobriquet of a closeted, hunky, 1950s movie star, or what? "Tab Hunter, Rock Hudson, meet Van Hansis. I'm sure you'll have a lot to talk about."

Not your mother's daytime television.

Van is also our latest gay fantasy boyfriend, along with being one of the models for my latest haircut. I'm still clinging to Dan Gillespie Sells of The Feeling, as well, myself, but I haven't seen him lithely hump a couch up close from the front row, lately.

To top it all off, we saw reportedly-straight lesbian heartthrob Sigourney Weaver in the theatre, who sadly seems to have segued from looking potentially dykey into the librarian spinster look. We love you, Sigourney, but a bouffant, granny coat and femme-ified penny loafers do not do you justice. Were you undercover, or what?

Ripley, is that you?

Nevermind, it was a gay old time, and I hope we can do it again, soon, barring further accidents, study-induced mental breakdowns or ending up on the bread line. Next time, won't you go on a gaydate with us?

Sundry

Giant-Ass Bed

Well, we done dood it. We finally got a new bed. King size, in fact. Simmons firm plush top, so it's steady with all those little coils, but the top gives.

It is HYOOOOGE. Like, I have to hop up to get my butt on it, and my legs dangle way off the ground. It's not a California King, because apparently 1-800-MATTRES leaves those on the West Coast, along with leaving off the last S for Savings. I think it will accommodate Mrs. Nator in all her lengthy glory, however. She can make up the couple inches of length by lying more diagonally.

Spending the money was scary, but with both of our backs giving out at times, it had to be done. Now we just have to try to keep the cats away from it, other than when we're in it. They're traumatized enough already by the movers schlepping it in. Anyone know how to rig up a boat horn to a pressure-sensitive mattres(s) pad?

Happy Pride

I guess. I dunno. I am so old and nest-y, I can't be bothered. Do I really want to sweat for hours watching a parade and then wander around trying to find a place to get a drink? No.

Wish Me Luck

on two things coming up. The first is today, when I have my exam to see if it's okay for me to take a beginning SCUBA class. I really want to take one in Hawaii. However, since I fat, lazy, on prescription drugs and have had spinal surgery, I have to get the okay from my doctor. I'll also be getting a blood test to make sure I got my measles-mumps-rubella vaccinations, because I have to verify that before I register for classes. I'm not worried about that, though. I just want my doctor to look at the SCUBA form while I'm there and tell me I'm healthy enough to do it. WoooOOOOnnns, please!

The second is cleaning for my mother-in-law's visit. She's coming on Wednesday, and thus far, I have been having a hard time getting my ass in gear. It's just pure procrastination stemming from feeling overwhelmed at how grubby this place is. There's no cure for my laziness long-term, I suspect, but a little boost of WoooOOOnns for one task couldn't hurt.

And that's it for now. I feel as though I've become rather boring, lately. Sorry if I have - there's just been a lot to do in preparation for school, mom-in-law's visit and Hawaii. My brain is rarely in the now, because I'm so excited about the close future. I guess if you're really bored, 1. fuck you, schmendrick & 2. you can go look at slideshows of my trip to the NY Botanical Garden or my visit with my sister, bro-in-law and the niece and nephew. I'm out!