1. A Sunday with my friend Rudy at the home a certain local society doyenne. I'd heard of her from the society pages, but never known exactly what she had done. I still don't. Rudy tells me that her claim to fame is that thirty or so years ago she went to 22 (of the right) parties in one night once. And that's how one is launched into society I suppose. Who knows.
It was held in her courtyard in the Marigny, complete with pool. Scattered among the middle aged women were a number of minature dogs and even more miniature gays.
The afternoon devolved into a game of guess the hairpiece, which is pretty fun.
It was touted as a "Latin American writers salon" whatever that means. It consisted of listening to a few writers reading from their work and a lot of awkward small talk. One of the writers, a middle aged woman with the same name as my mother was dressed in a kitten costume (this was the first week of October by the way, and decidedly *not* a "Latin American Literary costume salon") who, feeling the compulsive magnetic attraction all middle aged women with the same name as my mother must feel, decided to corner us and advise us on "getting an agent." Everytime I looked up she was there again, advising us on "getting an agent." Because of the kitten ears, I was skeptical of her skill, but her story, part of which she read was actually pretty good. There was also a poet, looking a bit like Janice from "The Muppet Show," who read a poem in a deep baritone about her sex life with the extended tedious metaphor of Columbus "ravaging" the New World. That's when Rudy thankfully gave me "the look," and we could finally leave the bad margaritas and stilted small talk.
2.Went with Rudy again to the Hi Ho Lounge on St. Claude...to see two very short plays by his friend. Both were all right....nothing spectacular. One was about vultures eating shit. I'm not kidding. I think it was a comedy, but I'm not sure. The bar was pretty nice, however.
3.My first ever trip to an auction house. We walked up the stairs and right into a scene from a movie, paddles, auctioneers and all. Dennis' (with whom I went) friends (a young married doctor couple) had bought two really lovely charcoal drawings of nudes, framed, for $150 each. I was jealous. They missed out on a Chagall print (signed) also framed for $230. Not bad.
4.Went with a friend to a bar deep in uptown the last night. The bar is a straight bar except for a few hours on Friday, then like Brigadoon it changes back into an upscale fratboy bar. Michael, I think, had told me of this bar years ago, but I hadn't believed him. I thought it was just an urban legend. But it seems that it is true. It was actually pretty nice there. The music was different from your typical re-remixed divas. There was a bit of Marvin Gaye, the Frankie Smith classic "The Double Dutch Bus" (!), and some fairly innocuous other tunes, nothing earth shattering, just different. The crowd seemed made up of a mix of wealthy gay couples (one of whom I talked at length to, with his partner, celebrating their 17th year together that night) and a number of cute college boys. He's an artist being supported by his boyfriend, the engineer it seems. He went on and on and on about Hilary Clinton and thank God I'd had five rum and cokes by then or I think I might have gone insane. More thankfully still, Brigadoon turns back straight at 9, so there was an excuse to leave and eat.