Monday, 31 October 2005


If you want to know what I got up to last night, go to the other side. If you do, please do push the curiosity to read the comments too; there are a few important bits of information added by myself there.

Sunday, 30 October 2005

What a night

It is almost one in the morning and I can’t sleep; I am still high on the energy built up tonight (and perhaps the alcohol too). It all started quite normally with my having dinner at home and getting ready to join someone for the Chorus, SH, who had organised a night out to see the stage version of Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

On my way to Too2much, the ill-named venue (formerly the infamous Raymond Revue), where the show was to take place, and although I had decided on a different route to try and avoid them, my bus was slowed down by the non-demonstrating cyclists taking part in Critical Mass. I knew Slightly would be one of them and rang him to give him a piece of my mind.

I made it to the cabaret in time however. There were 6 of us in all, 5 of which are Chorus members. We spotted another member in the audience. I had been to Too2much once, and have to say I had not been particularly impressed. The place is expensive and pretencious while at the same time a bit shabby. This time I was a little more impressed. Together with our seats we got a "free" glass of Champagne, a programme and a foam wig. The staff was very polite and on the whole helpful if a bit overwhelmed sometimes. After several reminders that the bar was about to close and that we should stock up on drinks, the show finally began.

A few months ago, I came across a cheap copy of the DVD of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I was aware of it without knowing why and decided to give it a sceptical try. To my utter surprise, the experience turned out to be quite enjoyable indeed. I suppose also that any gay person (especially a gay person) will find things to relate to in this story of someone who has no real roots and is trying to make sense of life. Although the characterisation is a bit two-dimensional, the songs (and the singing) are actually rather good (and I don’t usually like guitary stuff!). One of my favorites numbers of the show, The Origin of Love is the retelling of Aristophanes' speech in Plato's Symphosium, which, as well as sounding good, appeals to me intellectually. Both versions of Wicked Little Town will echoe in many a conscienceness.

David Bedella as HedwigThe UK version of the show (it was a show before becoming a film) was created last year I believe for the Pride Festival Fortnight and was staged at Heaven. The lead was taken up by David Bedella, who is better known for his award winning performance as Satan/Warm up Man in Jerry Springer, the Opera. He was Hedwig tonight again, and a very good one too. The show is build like a one-man-show and Bedella, really carry the whole 90 min show. A thoroughly enjoyable performance. My only criticism is that he physically don't quite look the part; he is way to muscly and masculine looking to be a convincing transexual, even a botched one, but there is obviously nothing he can do about this. I have been singing the chorus of one of the songs since I left Too2much and am now listening to them as I write.

At the end of the show, Bedella invited everyone in the audience to join him to the bar upstairs and all six of us went up. This is where the really strange part of the evening started for me.
1.30am - going to bed...

11.30 am.

Hedwig tunes a are again playing in the background. Slightly woke me up an hour ago to tell me about his adventures. Despite a slight lingering headache, it is time now to finish telling mine.

Although we were all members of the Chorus we don't know each other well (most of this people are from the recent new intake) and the group was mostly composed of pairs. JA informed us when his date went to the toilet that the guy (PG) was a "potential". DO and SL, I learned later were in the exploratory stages of a possible relationship as well. Then there was SH and myself, who are just friends. SH, knew JA and myself. I had met JA at a previous such expedition when we went to see Theatre of Blood at the National. DO and I were aware of each other, as he was a member when I joined the Chorus and left soon after.

As we were waiting for the show to start, the conversation went on laboriously, as it usually does between people who don't know each other. As usual, in noisy environment I was rather silent, looking around me and not straining to catch what was being said too much. I did become aware at one point that the conversation had turned to watches. Everyone seemed to agree that they had to be very expensive (SL had had his insured) and a gift from someone. SL informed us that jeans, watches and flowers are the only things one should pay attention to. The guy seem to have more money than sense if you ask me... (when we got upstairs, he gave his credit card to the barman, saying he wanted a refill of his class of wine everytime it got empty and paid for several rounds). All through this, I was aware of or imagined repeated insistent looks in my direction from SL and PG.

When we got upstairs after the show, DO for some reason seemed to attached himself to me. By that time the others were already bound by that ethylic camaradery I never try to reach and SL, DO's "date" was blithly flirting and being touchy feely with everyone in his reach. He even tried it on me at some time! Something nobody usually does.

DO is some sort of voice coach. Earlier in the evening, he asked me the usual questions about how long I had been in London and how I learned English. On the occasion he informed me that although my accent was recognisably French, I also had elements of a London accent in the way I speak. A nice thing to hear. I felt a bit more embivalent however when he suggested that I might want to get myself checked for dyslexia. He said that my problems in noisy places, where I hear the sounds but somehow do not seem to process them to make sense of them is a potential symptom of dyslexia. He then proceeded to give me a short list of numbers, asking me to repeat them in the reverse order. By then, I had had a glass of Champagne and one of white wine; my brains were not as agile as they could be expected to be and I could not manage the asigned task. DO said that using visual means to deal with such request could also be a sign of dyslexia. To be honest I am a little sceptical and to be honest uncertain as to the usefulness of being diagnosed. Dyslexia is not "curable" and if I am indeed affected, it can only be to a light degree.

Just before I decided to leave, PG, with whom I had not exchanged a word during the all evening, took the opportunity of my standing idly alone to come up and tell me I had a very nice... skin. Saying how smooth and soft it was. I asked him if he had a professional interest there (perhaps he was a taxidermist) to which he replied he was a physiotherapist.

Walking out of Too2much, I felt quite elated. As far as my delusional mind could tell, I had awakened the interest of three guys that evening. Something clearly unheard of. Of course they weren't exactly free to do anything about it and neither would I have wanted them to (apart perhaps for PG) but it was a nice feeling anyway. Reflecting on all this now, I also see how disconnected I am with how social interactions work. It seems things go much faster than I think. More on this in another post perhaps, when I have got my head around it.

The interesting thing is that I will probably be seeing most of those poeple again tonight. SH is having a non-halloween party... For now, my headache has grown worth for staring at that screen. I think I'll go for a lie down.

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Friday, 28 October 2005


Yesterday, I received a lettre from Amnesty International, asking me to join. A friend of mine recently go involved and I quite approve of their actions (they actually fight against all discriminations and have had a positive action for LGBT people for a long time) so I decided to support them. I might come in handy soon too, now that I have friends who plan on getting themselves arrested...

It is easy to join (and only a couple of quid a month); just click here.

Thursday, 27 October 2005

Tuesday, 25 October 2005

Tatchell on Cruising

I have just posted a longish comment in response to this post over at Slightly Lost in the World. I thought I would share it with you:

Having now read Tatchell's article, I can say that I find it like you quite irrelevant to the situation and possibly symptomatic of Tatchell outdated view on this. I think we have (thankfully) moved on from the time when we needed to justify ourselves. Tatchell writing this article seems to me only proof that he has not evolved on his view of the issue as fast as the issue itself.

A positive point which needs to be noted about the Clapham Murder case is that it has, I think, got more coverage than I can remember previous similar cases having. And for once the media were not shy to characterise the case as a homophobic attack which is a point of "detail" which usually gets swept under the carpet. While there might have been examples of bad or hasty coverage, I thing a shift in the positive direction has happened in journalistic minds.

This is something which can probably be related to what this post is talking about.

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Monday, 24 October 2005

Further Sunday Mulling

Another step (however small) was made last night towards following Socrates' ambitious exhortation: Γνώθι Σεαυτόν; for me, an enduring struggle which has been ongoing for almost two decades now and will probably keep me busy for a while, still. Slightly had alluded at a possible meeting between the two of us but what he calls his parental obligations, which sound oddly like cruising to me, made him forget about it. So, after an unexpectedly busy and rather enjoyable week-end made up of rehearsals, baroque music concerts and meetings with new friends (not to forget the Weekly Cultural Outing to Tesco), yet again I found myself in a sauna, which prompted further Sunday mullings on the reasons for my persistent attendance to these places.

There are of course superficial reasons. The facilities first; depending on which venue I go there is a pool to enjoy. All saunas, by definition, offer steam rooms and saunas. I also generally like people watching and these are of course great places for this. Finally there is the sense of the chase, like playing hide and seek in a way, which keeps me intellectually alert somehow and assures that, despite the amount of time I spend there, I am entertained enough not to get too bored (most of the time anyway). I certainly don't go for the sex. As I said before, most of the time nothing happens these days (last night was no exception although, probably due to it being the end of the month, the place was heaving when I got there).

But the real reason why I keep going back is, I think, desperation. I go to saunas because they are the only places where I (sometimes) get a positive response from people I am interested in. In "real life" nothing whatsoever happens. On the net, I do get some interest but not from whom I would like to get it.

That leaves me with saunas. Because, despite my reasoned decision not to care about these things, not to expect anything from life, I am still the product (however flawed) of the society I live in and I have "expecting" ingrained in me. We are taught to expect something from life, that we deserve what is due to us (whatever we might decide it to be). This is obviously wrong but a capitalist society would probably not work so well without that sort of psychological make up in its members. A further cliché about western societies (and this is becoming true of some eastern societies too), is that appearance is all-important. What do you do when you have issues with your appearance? You seek reassurance before perhaps, in some cases, going for more drastic solutions. I don't like the way I look and the opinion is apparently shared by most people.

In the darkest recesses of my tortured psyche, I must have decided unbeknownst to myself, that I deserved to be loved and to be admired. Looking at it in the cold light of day, this is obviously not going to happen, so I will probably have to keep hiding in dark rooms for a while.

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Friday, 21 October 2005


I have just received this email from my mother:
Salut. Te souviens-tu de R. P., la soeur de ton parrain ? A 83 ans, elle s'est suicidée en se jetant dans la Saône. Bisous.

Translation: "Hi. Do you remember R.P., your godfather's sister [My godfather is the husband of one of my aunts]? At 83, she committed suicide by throwing herself in the Saône. Kisses."

I didn't know the woman; I have only met her a couple of times. I don't know why she did it (apparently she was depressed and had made several attempts already) but I find this act very courageous, especially at an age when one is so used to living and being alive, it must be like a bad habit. Courageous is probably the wrong word anyway. I would imagine that when someone kill themselves, courage does not really come into the equation, although drowning doesn't seem to be the "nicest" way of doing this.

In anycase, I hope she has found the peace she wanted so much.

Tuesday, 18 October 2005

A New Blog is Born

I have had in mind for some time to create some sort of page to reference all my posts on Christian Voice. Well I have just done much better (I think, I hope) but creating Listening to the Voices. Slightly Lost is also involved in the project and we aim at building an online resource to monitor what Christian Voice get up to. There are already quite a few link there, sorted thematically but there is still quite a bit a research to be done and links will be added as time goes...

I hope people will find this helpful.

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Silencing Stephen Green

I have blogged before about Christian Voice and how uneasy I feel about them getting so much coverage on national media. It looks like I am not the only one who is not happy about this. Recently after another inept performance from their leader Stephen Green on the Moral Maze on Radio4, I decided to write and complain to the BBC.

Stephen Green, leader of Christian Voice
Stephen Green, leader of Christian Voice.
Here is what I sent them:

I am very concerned that the BBC (both television and radio (radio4)) regularly invite Mr Stephen Green (leader of Christian Voice) to express his extremist views on air. While his movement has no apparent legitimacy (They refuse to divulge the number of their supporters, see your own reports on the Today Programme), he has managed to gain unprecedented and unjustified access to your programmes which enables him to air his extreme ideas.

I am aware that the BBC has a duty of presenting a balanced view of all arguments but it seems to me that repeatedly inviting Mr Green has more to do with his entertainment value (he is always almost certain to say something outrageous) than with the real validity of his arguments. In the meantime, he is gathering importance and dubeous legitimacy on the BBC's back. As I recall, he has also been able to be interviewed unchallenged (without a supporter of opposed views present to counter balance his words) a few times on the Today Programme.

I am sure you would be quite easily able to find representatives of religous movements with better credentials and legitimacy than Mr Green. This would make for more rational and interesting debates.

Here is the response I got:
Dear Mr [Zefrog]

Thank you for your e-mail.

I note that you are concerned at the frequency with which Stephen Green from the extremist Christian Voice magazine appears on BBC programmes and I acknowledge your claims that there are times when his views go unchallenged either by an interviewr or an opposing guest.

Appearances by Stephen Green on our programmes are entirely within the BBC's commitment to robust and legitimate argument from differing perspectives. Panellists are invited to appear on the basis of what we hope they will contribute to the programme and not who they may or may not represent.

However, I recognise your concerns about Mr Green's credibility and can assure you that your comments on this matter will be fully registered and made available to programme makers and indeed senior management within the BBC. Feedback of this nature helps us when making decisions about future BBC programmes and services and your views will most certainly play a part in this process.

Thank you again for taking the time to voice your concerns.


[J. C.]
BBC Information

So if you have a few seconds to spare, please write to the BBC.

Read more about Green's activities.

I find it amusing to note that my complaint was responded to by someone whose initials are JC...

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Thursday, 13 October 2005

Sneaky Ploy

For several weeks now, there has been reports that the Catholic Church was going to ban gay men from seminars. This is due to happen in US seminars only it seems and for the avowed purpose of dealing with the pedophilia scandals which have been plaguing the US branch of the Church in recent years. This obviously shows a blatant misunderstanding of the whole question if not an outright lack of care for the victims and potential victims. While some pedophiles might be gay, likening all gay people to pedophiles is not a credible standpoint, and while the Church deflects the media's attention with those phony measures, the real molesters go undisturbed and unchallenged if not simply protected by the Vatican.

Now we learn that the ban will only apply to non-celibate priests. I have seen a few mentions of this on some of the blogs I read regularly with very little comment on the news, and as far as I can remember the news was on the whole welcomed as a positive step.

I am afraid I can not agree with this rosy view of the situation. Considering the Catholic Church's track record on gay rights (they are considering banning gay friendly politicians from receiving communion for example), I think this is just another ploy to appease the media while pushing through with their nasty witchhunt.

Knowing what is at stake, is the Church seriously expecting future priests to come out? How will the Church decide who to investigate? Or will they investigate anyone?

The idea of this amendment to the original idea is that priests or seminarists will have to prove that they have been celibate for at least three years. Sexual experiences are by definition something that most people will keep private. The occurence of an intercourse would be hard enough to prove several years down the line, but what about the absence of it? What evidence will be considered legitimate? We need to see what happens but I think we can safely expect that the Church will never find itself sufficiently convinced by the arguments put before it.

I is interesting to note, that this move is very much Vatican (Pope?) driven, and that the Church is not united in its speech (the comments on this page are truely enlighteming and show how christian, charitable and loving catholics and religious zealots can be, by the way).

This whole business, once again begs for me the question of why gay men, who can not ignore the position of the Church on who they are, can still consider joining its ranks?
New Rules Affirm Pope Benedict's Stance Against Gays,
by Daniel Williams, Washington Post Foreign Service.

Originally posted: 08 October 2005, 4.10pm

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Tuesday, 11 October 2005

Striking a Balance

Things have been looking up slightly in past few days on the social side despite Slightly, my only real social interaction, being rather elusive for the past couple of weeks. I have joined a couple of new (to me anyway) gay personals websites. One of them is probably the best I have seen so far (and I have seen a few!). People are really quite friendly and actually contact each other. I have met a couple of interesting people whom I hope will become friends in time. My slight worry being that there might be a misunderstanding in that respect.

Some weeks ago, I was contacted by someone who I did not fancy but we got chatting anyway. Some tenuous bond started to develop and soon we transfered to MSN messenger for more convenience. About a week ago, things all came to a head. I was in a miserable mood as happens quite often these days and I reacted strongly to a comment this guy made (probably as a joke), telling him that I did not fancy him. He seemed surprised at that and said he had to think about this new turn of events. We are still talking now but there is a bit more distance in our exchanges than there seemed to be. I was rather surprised at his reaction myself as I don't think I have behaved in any way or said anything which could lead him to think I was interested in him more than for friendship. So now, because I met these other people on the same sort of site and because they have made a few flattering comments about my personal appearance, I am concerned that I might be misleading them too and that eventually this will ruin what is happening between us.

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Saturday, 8 October 2005

I'm A Creep

Creep - Radiohead

When you were here before, couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel, your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control
I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice, when I'm not around
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin here?
I don't belong here, ohhhh, ohhhh

She's running out again...
She's running out, she runs, runs, runs, runs... runs...

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here

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Thursday, 6 October 2005

Learning People

It is a sad comment on myself that at 31 I should still be grappling with how to relate to people. I will blame it on my childhood and teenage years and yes probably on my parents too.

When I started learning to read (I was actually taught how to read and write by my mother because for some reason which escapes me, I had been refused attendance at the village school, together with a couple of other children), my parents devised this neat trick to incite me to read. After the evening meal, we would sit the three of us together at kitchen table and read in turn from a book from the Bibliothèque Rose, usually it would be the Famous Five (Le Club des Cinqs in French) later moving on to the Bibliothèque Verte. The trick worked only too well. Soon I was reading the books by myself in advance of our evening readings, so eager was I to know what came next. That was it: I had been given the book bug and like Sartre in his autobiographical novel, Les Mots (Words), I can say that I will finish my life surrounded by books.

My teenage years, when I should have been out there with my peers, being bullied and ridiculed by them as often happens, I spent in the darkness of my room, shutters drawn, reading and learning about life by proxy. I am convinced that without this encounter with literature, this all-embracing and jealous mistress, I would have been a very different person and my life would have been different. Books made me what I am now, however little this is and it is certainly not something I bemoan.

This time of my life is when I should have been going through the process I am trying to rekindle now. I am increasingly aware that it is probably too late already. However hard I try, I can not seem to ingratiate myself with people. Sometimes, a spark flares up in the night, a close friendship with some other lost soul. This will last a few minutes, a few months or a few years. Eventually, however, as I always know it will, the light dwindles and slowly expires, leaving being the smoke of memories. People loose interest and move on.

Once again this is happening... When this is case, I usually have two lines of behaviour: either I go on the offensive and send a written request for explanation or I try to outflank the other side and just start the process of emotional retreat which will guarrantee that I don't suffer when things really come to an end.

To be fair, I think that in addition to my inadequacies and social awkwardness, my character does not come as a great help in those matters. On first contact, I probably appear as being aloof and have huge problems with what I perceive as mediocrity in which most people seem quite happy to wallow. I am also not so good a social actor, that I can hide this effectively. Oh, and did I mention I am also rather strong headed under a seemingly yielding and retiring exterior. With little in the way of apparent graces (surmising I possess any non apparent ones that is), no wonder people would rather move on than bother too much.

This is how it seems I have upset one of my fellow officers in the Chorus with what he perceives to be a negative comment on his professional abilities. Although I think this is more to do with the person’s insecurities, it looks like I am going to have to make an apology in the name of safekeeping working relationships…

Sigh! Oh, to be a hermit and content with it!

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Currently Reading - The Little Friend

The Little Friend - Donna Tartt
The Little Friend by Donna Tartt

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Saturday, 1 October 2005

Star Gazing

Although the sky was overcast, the “stars” were out en force tonight to illuminate my solitary path with their radiance. In addition to seeing Bremner, Bird and Fortune live (Rori Bremner (who is, by the way, rather camp for a straight man!) was the only interesting one of the three. The other two did not bother to interact with the audience and just walked on and off the set as required), I saw one of the Westlife people (Nicky Byrne, I think it was) chatting with some of his entourage outside the Hammersmith Apollo on my way to the recording.

On my way home, I saw the car of a Royal. I am not sure which but it must have been a very Royal Royal (so to speak) as their car was followed by one security people carrier and possibly two (that wasn't clear). My guess, only supported by a glimpse of a tuxedo sleeve, is that it was Prince Charles whom I had already seen with Camilla Parker Bowles not a long time ago on Cranbourn Street, WC2. I am pretty sure I also saw Michael Winner, being chauffeured by in his old grey Bentley. Strangely enough I also recently saw Mr Winner on Cranbourn Street in the same car which he was driving himself on that occasion…

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What Spinsters Are For

A couple of weeks ago, I received one of those emails I get from time to time offering free tickets for recordings of TV shows. I have been to several recordings already and it is usually good fun. And anyway it is a free night out. This time, the offer was for a Channel 4 satirical show; the excellent and well informed Bremner, Bird and Fortune. Knowing that he would probably be interested too, I had invited Slightly Lost and had requested two tickets.

The big day was yesterday. Earlier I had sent an email to Slightly to decide on the contingencies of our meeting. He replied by telling me he had received an email from IP, the guy he currently sort of goes out with, saying he had had a bad news at work, was feeling sad and wanted to see him. Slightly said he did not like that sort of situation, that he did not know what to do but that whatever he did it would be wrong. I helpfully replied that indeed it probably would be. I followed this by a jocular email entitled: “this might help… not”, which went like this:

your options for tonight:

A tell IP that you'd rather go and have a laugh courtesy of the BBC than listen to him moaning about his miserable life

B tell me to f off because IP lets you snog him when I would refuse to do that and he has a nicer flat anyway

C go out and find new friends

D stay home and shag your bike

thought that might help you ;O)

To which he replied in the same tone:

"IT DOES !!!!!!

OK, I want to do A, but can't really, D is next favourite option but (need name for bike?) says no sex before a race, C is probably the safest option as it has better long term prospects.

But am going to probably go with B if thats ok? Sorry, its nothing to do with him being very down at the moment, or loosing his job or that his flat mate has started doing drugs. It's simply I can snog IP and your too frigid."

I told him to have fun and, when he repeated he was sorry, I added that he should not worry, that it is what spinsters are for.

After a false start, thinking it was five when it was only four, I made my way across South West London to the theatre. While travelling, I could not help but notice not for the first time that people seem to be somehow better looking in richer areas of the city. I have been to other recordings before, so I knew I had to get there early to get a seat. There was already queue when I got there however, even though the bus journey had been much shorter than announced by TFL’s Journey Planner. After a while the doors opened and we slowly filed in. I found myself in a reasonably good seat towards the middle in the last row and got ready to enjoy the show…

After a while the stewards directing the audience to their seats (as always according to arcane and seemingly illogical rules) started to direct people to the area I was seated in again. Despite my recent resolutions of trying not to pay attention to strange men any more, I could not help but noticed the man who found himself seated next to me (in the seat Slightly would have occupied). I started to tingle all over with contained excitement and apprehension. He was in his late twenties, about my height, with short black hair and dark-brown eyes. I could not really tell but he seemed stocky but svelte, in the way a rugby player can be.

I started looking around myself more intently, ostensibly to see what was happening but in reality trying to surreptitiously catch a glimpse of him. First I managed to see his hands which looked soft and powerful at the same time. After another trial, I managed to see more of his face. At the same moment, he turned and our eyes met. He smiled at me!!!! Shock! Horror! I suddenly felt that my hands required all my attention; my face burning with was would, in other people, be a blush.

It wasn’t long however before I tried to look at him again. In the meantime the comedian employed to warm up the audience, had started his banter and we were all laughing. I just had time to noticed my neighbour’s beautiful dimpled smile before he actually talked to me. To be honest I was too flustered to remember what he said but it was probably some comment about a joke we had just heard. I think I tried to reply more or less wittily and stared right in front of me, seemingly finding great interest in the nape of the woman in front of me. After a while, and several deep breaths, I had managed to calm down and we slowly started a whispered conversation. Soon the recording started and we had to shut up but are knees kept the dialogue going all along. On the way out, my handsome stranger asked for my phone number…

This is how things would have happened if I was pursuing a different life than my own. In truth, nothing whatsoever happened tonight. I found myself seated between a young woman, there with her friend and a older man in his late sixties. Neither paid the slightest attention to me. I spend the whole evening in complete anonymity, and invisibility it seemed; later, as I was waiting for a bus at Hyde Park Corner, even enjoying the familiar thought that no one knew where I was. The show, as expected, was quite fun and made a few powerful points about the current political situation in the US and the so-called “War on Terror”,TM.

Often, before going somewhere I indulge in the type of fantasies I have described above, although perhaps not is so many details. Call me Barbara, if you want. These thoughts are usually followed by the superstitious idea that, precisely because I have imagined that something would happen, nothing will happen. I am always proven right in this respect and life never seems to rise the measly glamour it sometimes manages to take on in my imagination. I know this is, in a way, living by proxy but it allows me to forget the lack of things to forget and deludes me into carrying on slightly less mournfully.

That’s what spinsters are for.

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