S.F. Ballet Gay-la

It was last night. I bought a velvet scarf with black sequins to wear with a black shirt and dark jeans I have. I purchased it in the Womens' Accessories Department at Macy's downtown, which actually felt a bit weird.

There were *other* ladies at the Gala who were sparklier than me though. And also, tanner. And also, thinner. :-/

I went to the Gala with Chr. and The Donald; we also ran into my other balletomane palz in the lobby, waiting to rush in and grab standing room spots. Paris Hilton was not in attendance this year, but Chr. said that he saw George Lucas! Too bad I didn't see him, 'cuz I would have asked him how his Asian-themed Holiday Party went. :-P

This photo is from one of my favorite pieces of the evening, a pas-de-deux from "Reflections," choreographed by dancer/choreographer Yuri Possokhov and danced by 8-feet tall Muriel Maffre and her hot Australian partner Damian Smith. Mesmerizing.

Artsy Dell'Arte

I'm now looking into this school: The Dell'Arte International School of Physical Theater, in Blue Lake, CA, which is a 6 hour drive from 'Frisco north up the coast. Beautiful redwood country; small logging town in the middle of nowhere. I must be insane! Anyway, I've known about this school for awhile... there aren't too many places that teach this stuff.

They have a one year Professional Training Program and a two-and-a-half year M.F.A. program. And then you graduate and are a highly skilled and still potentially unemployable Physical Theater Artist. More credibility to teach, at least-- with the M.F.A. anyway. And with a lot less $$$ in your savings account. But their graduates seem to be very serious about having a career in Theater, and there are links on the site to people who are involved with their own companies, or circuses, or puppet troupes all over the country.

It's ironic-- because over at San Francisco Opera they'll be doing a revival of "Rigoletto" this Fall, and I could just FAKE being a commedia dell'arte clown, which I've done twice already. But at this school, I'd get training to do it for real.

Can a 47-year old Gay Guy survive and thrive in this environment?

I DON'T KNOW!!!!!!!!!

They're holding an audition/orientation week in February, for admission next October.

Whadd'ya think, my peeps???

What Madame G. Contemplates, From Her Pedestal

from a New York Times article on cuteness, by Natalie Angier:

"The human cuteness detector is set so low, researchers said, that it deems cute practically anything remotely resembling a human baby or a part thereof, and so it ends up including the young of almost every mammalian species; fuzzy-headed birds like Japanese cranes; wooly bear caterpillars; a bobbing balloon; even a :-) typed in succession.

The greater the number of cute cues that an animal or object possesses, or the more exaggerated the signals may be, the louder and more italicized are the squeals provoked.

Cuteness is distinct from beauty, researchers say, emphasizing rounded over sculpted, soft over refined, clumsy over quick.

Beauty attracts admiration and demands a pedestal; cuteness attracts attention and demands a lap. Beauty is rare and brutal, despoiled by a pimple. Cuteness is commonplace and generous."

Stay In "Yes" Mode
(A Clowning technique I've read about)

Hmmm, that party did NOT work for me! Oh w-hell. It was not Madame G.'s crowd, I'm afraid. I had my doubts, but thought I'd check it out. :-/ It was an interesting adventure at least, but I left early when I realized I wasn't having much fun there.

It was fun getting to hang out with Kat before the party at her cool Potrero Hill pad, and getting to know her pal Fillizza (sp?) and her very charming new bf Paul, who is a S.F. Opera Extra-Chorister. Friendly guy and extremely gallant to the Madame. Many thanks, Kat & Paul. You make a great couple.

I took this pic just now-- the hat I wore last night... there might be a better one on the party host's website a little later on.

Par-tay On, People!

The New Nose

Yes, Nelle, it is sweaty under this mask-'n-nose! This is Madame's Cross To Bear.

Tonight: I can't believe it but I am going to try and step out once again (two Glinka appearances in one week???) and go to this party of "Burning Man" people in Potrero Hill. Burning Man is a yearly event on some desert in Nevada, for those of you who may not have heard of it. I've never been. Too many artsy people gathered in one desert with very little water makes me extremely nervous.

The theme of tonight's party is HATS. I'm really not sure about this! Can't tell from photos of last year's event if it's going to be hokey or not. Kat, of "Forza Flagellant" Fame has graciously invited me, and she sez it's a good group of people, so we shall see...

Momma's Got a Brand New Nose

At left, the old fucked-up nose, and noseless mask, taken at Cafe Flore in the Castro.

I had to go Nose shopping yesterday at Kryolan because my old nose was wrecked from years of abuse. (I haven't warmed up to the new nose yet.) Anyway, I went to the audition this morning for New College's Experimental Performance Institute that I had mentioned in a previous entry... Wow, WEIRD audition. I need some major time to process it. Anyway, Madame G. made a splash-- she even ended up meeting the President of the college. It's a very small informal college!

I took along my old sign along that says "Impeach Bush or Aliens Will Land in my Wig"-- to show them what my street theater work has been like over the years. Yah, that message went over very well at this school. Bunch of friggin' hippies!

Confusion as to whether this is the right place to plant myself or not.

Bad Poets Society

As an homage to all the dreadful poetry that has been written for "The Bachelor/ette" series over the years (think: Ryan and Bridezilla-Trista; think: many of the lovely ladies this season), I have decided to use my brilliant word-smithing capabilities to create a poem for the lovelorn Allie G., the Oncology Doctor who was so pitifully rejected in this season's first episode by the hunky E.R. Doctor-Bachelor, What's-his-Name (who looks frighteningly like a young George W. Bush!).

I will try to rhyme.

The title of the poem is "Get Me To A Nunnery."

I'm here on "The Bachelor in Paris."
I really should be quite embarrass.

I bought a hot gown from "David's Bridal."
My boobs look fantastic, no rivals!

My eggs are so old I need a husband.
I fear I will go off the deep end.

So let's skip the hot tub dates and Eiffel Tower.
And if any girl gets a rose instead of me, I will glower.

In the end, it'll be MOI that you're choosing
'CAUSE I REALLY MUST START REPRODUCING!!!!!!

The End :-)


This will make absolutely no sense to you if you're not watching the stoopid show!

Yesterday's Beach Pic

REALIZATION (!)

There is a very interesting world out there when you turn off the computer and go outside.

Cross-Addicted!
~and~
Albert Explores His Kareer Opshuns

First, a news update: they apprehended a suspect in that Starbucks Bathroom Bomb incident. The alleged *Starbomber* was recorded by a hidden security camera in the store. The short news article I read the next day didn't reveal any motive for the crime; the guy just seemed to be your average garden-variety urban crazy person. So at least I'm off the hook! Pshew!

This Verizon Camera-Phone pic was taken at Stonestown Mall. The tables in their Food Court are all currently embedded with this "American Idol" poster. I'm not sure why, but I think this is the sharpest Verizon Camera-Phone pic I've ever taken. Disclaimer: No home-made bombs were left during this Starbucks moment.

Coupla things: "Project Runway" is the best show currently on TV, so thanks to the commenters who mentioned it. I see the episodes a few days late because a friend tapes them for me (still too thrifty for cable), so no one give away anything that happens, 'kay?

A special shout-out to San Francisco Kat-- a funny and flexible "Forza" Flagellant who I met last Fall... thanks for your comment! :-)

Kareer Korner: I've been looking into classes, workshops and even degree programs where I can investigate and experiment with ideas of Drag/ Queer Theater/ Performance Art. I really feel like I need some place where I can put my ideas out there and get feedback and support for them in a more structured way than what I've been doing up 'til now. There's this very trippy Masters Program at New College here, a VERY left-leaning, wheatgrass and protest signs institution-- it's part of a recently-formed Experimental Performance Institute. Click on the link if you're curious!

You can pay a million dollars to go there and get an M.F.A. in Experimental Performance, with a Queer or Activist Emphasis, and then graduate and still be totally poor with zero marketable skills, but at least you have more credibility as an artist, hopefully a few connections in the Art/Theater world, and more of a chance for grants, teaching opportunities, etc. I'm not sure if this is at all what I want to do or not, in fact, I have a feeling that I DON'T want to spend all that money-- but it's interesting to even be exploring it. They're having an audition next Thursday and I'm debating whether or not to go... I've already rescheduled therapy so I can, if I want to.

This is what I might expect to learn there: We will search, as Tony Kushner calls it, for the “fabulous”, the “assertively Camp camp, the rapturous embrace of difference, the discovering of self not in that which has rejected you but in that which makes you unlike, disliked, and Other.”

Part of me thinks I could already TEACH this stuff. Hmmm...

I swear I didn't leave that bomb!!!

There are at least a thousand Starbucks locations in 'Frisco, but the one where that bomb was found yesterday in the restroom is the very one I frequent nearly every week right before my Therapy Thursday sessions. It's too bizarre. On the local news, some woman said, "What-- did someone get mad because their latte wasn't made right?"

It's possible that some anti-corporation activist left it. A few years ago, a number of Starbucks in the city were vandalized simultaneously overnight. Or, maybe someone is just upset because the Gingerbread Frappucinos are no longer for sale? Haven't heard the news yet this morning.

In RE:ality TV Newz: Did anyone watch the premiere of "The Bachelor in Paris" last night? OMG, that insane doctor lady who was so obsessed with "reproducing" immediately and then went off on a Man-Hating Rant when she wasn't given a rose-- whoah! There's always one in the crowd. But the thing that bugged me the most was the ever-present African-American Bachelorette who gets eliminated with zero screen-time. Why do they even bother doing the token thing? When are we ever going to see an African-American Bachelor or Bachelorette? Watch "Elimidate" or "Blind Date," "Bachelor" producers!!! It would be so kick-ass. Otherwise, this series is DEAD.

But of course, I will still watch. :-P

January Sunset

The ocean is mere yards away from my front door; in fact, if I want to, I can now climb out of one of my windows directly onto the fire-escape for a killer view of it. But, as is the case with many things of value that are right under our noses, I don't take advantage of my proximity to this most beautiful piece of Nature as often as I should. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I kind of forget that it's there, and other times I just don't have the energy to deal with its magnitude.

Last night I really needed it though. I needed a major attitude adjustment. It was gorgeous down there, crisp with January San Francisco crispness. There were the usual happy, happy couples, families, joggers and doggies. At least they seem happy. Well, the doggies are DEFINITELY happy! An idea I had last night was that the beach seems to self-select for happy people a lot of the time, at least at sunset. Sometimes I don't have the energy for that either. You do see some solitary people down there, alone with their thoughts (like moi), and there's the random "beach bum" type lurking around here and there too. I have to admit that in my highly unscientific demographic study last night, the major population represented seemed to be *happy*, heterosexual, white people. Just a personal observation, haven't begun my PhD dissertation yet!

Be that as it may, it was truly a tonic to be down there last night. Much better than a Gin & Tonic! (I don't want to have any serious Gin-Induced lip-liner accidents, lol!).

I really should go down there more often.

A Little George Eliot
~and~
Comment of the Week

From "Romola," the historical novel I've been trying to get through for the past four months (I'm only on page 181), this paragraph is referring to the novel's anti-hero, Tito:

"Under every guilty secret there is hidden a brood of guilty wishes, whose unwholesome infecting life is cherished by the darkness. The contaminating effect of deeds often lies less in the commission than in the consequent adjustment of our desires - the enlistment of our self-interest on the side of falsity; as, on the other hand, the purifying influence of public confession springs from the fact, that by it the hope in lies is for ever swept away, and the soul recovers the noble attitude of simplicity."

I can relate!

And on a lighter note: Gigi of LotusMartinis left me this ROFL-worthy comment in response to Madame G.'s cutting-edge makeup advice:

BTW ~ I accidentally took Madame's beauty advice last night ~ "ALWAYS apply your lip liner at least 1/2 inch outside your natural lip-area..." The martinis were flowing, the lighting was bad, and I looked like Meg Ryan at the Oscars, right after the injections... :)

Thanks for the laugh, Gigi!

The One About "Brokeback Mountain"

Finally saw it. Wow. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, but I experienced it as a breathtakingly beautiful film. Sensitive. Tragic. Fairly realistic, especially for a Hollywood film. And HOT!

It really amazes me that finally a film like this can be made, with two "leading" Hollywood actors. Major, major kudos to Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal for going there. For really going there. And to Ang Lee for his great direction, Annie Prouix for the original short story in "The New Yorker," and Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana for the screenplay. All to the supporting actors too. I just thought it was all superb and emotionally heartbreaking.

Every reviewer is talking about Heath Ledger's performance, and it is great, but I totally dug Jake's too; besides, I've always been more into brunettes (when he grew his little '70s moustache- YOWZA)... his character is described as the "flashier" of the two, but I saw him as just the more in touch with his sexuality. Simply put: a deeply closeted gay man. And from what I hear: travel to a state like Texas today and you'll still run into them. Hell, I've even run into closeted married men in San Francisco; it's not that uncommon.

Ledger's character is more complex and his sexuality may have been more complex as well. More unconscious.

The whole first third of the movie is Cowboy Porn. EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

The actresses playing the wives were so good too.

Run, don't walk, to your nearest multiplex if you haven't seen it yet!

Oh, and a viewing tip: try to see it in a theater with a good sound system... otherwise you'll understand only about a third of what Heath Ledger says/mumbles. I was forewarned, and went to the excellent Embarcadero Center Cinema here in 'Frisco. I understood almost everything.

Melancholy Explained

I mentioned melancholy last entry in talking about my old place... actually, it was melancholy about the old place-- about how much I hated it there by the time I left. A few of the pics seem too private to share here, even. A lot of emotions in them for me. The photo here is one I took of my two kitties, lounging around while I cleaned, threw out stuff and moved stuff upstairs. They were not very enthusiastic about helping me out with the move. (Photo is tiny because the focus was not too sharp. Santa: Where's my digital camera and new 'puter???)

I am still in love with my new place. I'm still being pretty good about keeping it neat and tidy, especially my new kitchen which I love so much that I want to marry it.

I saw my old neighbor-from-hell on the street yesterday. He is SO not in my life anymore. It's a fucking miracle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We had some major storms over the past few weeks. My new place is more protected from the wind and rains because it's on the side of the building, not facing the ocean. A friend of mine lives on the top floor, facing the ocean, and her ceiling caved in over the weekend from a leak in the roof that's been getting worse and worse over the years! We are not very protected from the elements out here by the Mighty Pacific. Needless to say, she's miffed, as my landlord has been totally lax in fixing leaks and responding to complaints. Now they have to, because her apartment is currently uninhabitable.

It's a reminder to me that my building is still pretty jacked-up, but at least I'm not being affected as directly as I was in my old place, and for that I am GRATEFUL!

Daily Entries?
~and~
a look back at the old Bachelor Pad

I guess Blogging is not SO 2005, because I still feel inclined to do it.

I've had some camera-phone pics of my old apartment on my camera-phone for ages now and I'm finally getting around to downloading them. I took these on the last morning I was there, as I was clearing out and cleaning up.

Melancholy...

More to come, maybe.

Madame Glinka celebrates 2006 by doing a little Impromptu Dance around her Bachelorette Pad

(actually, this is a recycled image from my old AOL journal 'cause I'm too lazy to look for a new image today.)

So did anyone watch The 117th Annual Tournament of Roses Parade this morning? Because it's raining here in Northern California as badly as in Pasadena during the parade. I felt so sorry for all those poor little flowers and seeds and giant animated butterflies and whimsical teddybears and Walt Disney characters and Toni Braxton and baton-twirlers and tuba players and Andalusian horsies. They got friggin' drenched! (I was stuck inside myself and watched the whole damned thing, so poor ME, too!)

As I wrote in my journal last year, the Tournament of Roses Parade used to be one of the big events of my young Gay-Boy-in-Training TV-viewing year... along with the Miss America, Miss U.S.A and Miss Universe pageants, OF COURSE. My Mom and Dad had to really turn a blind eye to not wonder what was up with my sexuality. I guess the Parade could just be considered an artistic thing, but the beauty pageants? Not to mention the thousands of hours of Olympic Ice-skating I watched. (I cried the year the Divine Miss Dorothy Hamill won the Gold Medal.)

Wot else? Looks like around a thousand new and returning RE:ality TV shows are going to be starting up in the next week or two. I'm scared, Blog. I can't let my addiction get the best of me again in '06!

Sheesh, this entry seems to be ALL ABOUT the Boob Tube...

ALL About the Lips...

At left, the stressed-out face of a Drag Queen getting ready at the last minute and trying to be her own paparazzi! To view even bigger glitter-lips, click on the image to enlarge. :-O!

So New Year's Eve was slightly exhausting yet fun. The sad reality is that my drag is pretty darned uncomfortable. Yes, it looks fucking fabulous, but I sweat profusely in it and if I try to eat anything, I end up eating mostly glitter.

My friend Andy's party that I went to was fairly mellow: it was one of those caring and sharing type of parties, so Madame G. felt slightly out of her element. Last year I went to the same gathering as "Albert" and felt like I fit in much better with the general vibe there. But this year other guests enjoyed the Madame's presence, and since I LIVE to give pleasure to others, I guess it's cool.

I am grateful to have friends to celebrate the Holidaze with. In the past, the Madame has spent a holiday or two alone,with a big bag of chips and some salami and cheese on Ritz crackers... too sad.

Oh, btw, the Mango Bars were a huge hit! Woohooooo!