So, I went to the opera last Wednesday. I've never been able to stand opera before. High on "Amadeus" love back in the 80s, I tried to watch Don Giovanni on PBS, but I only made it for about five minutes. The foreign languagyness, the slow-mo action, and worst of all, the soprano caterwauling! So I don't know if it's that I just wanted to see something at Carnegie Hall, or that I've matured, or that I'm hungry for material that tackles the Big Themes, but I bought a ticket and really enjoyed the show.

Did I mention it was Jerry Springer: The Opera? It was exactly what it sounds like, and it was awesome. Harvey Keitel was Jerry, and the first act was a regular "sexy secret" show, at the end of which Man in Diapers shot Jerry. Imagine the full operatic chorus singing "What the fuck, what the fuck?!" The second act was Jerry in hell, where Satan brought him to stage a show where he hoped to get an apology from Jesus for casting him out of heaven. The acoustics at Carnegie Hall are great, but the sightline was terrible, I could only see about half of the action, thanks to the melon heads in front of me.

Before that, I had a lovely dinner with my sister, and before that, I found the most fabulous pair of ghetto sweatpants at Century 21. They're brown with 3 inch white stripes down the sides, three stripes around the waist, one gold, one white, and one gold sparkles, the drawstring is a golden shoelace, and there are sequined logos on the front and back. At first it looked like RU and I thought it was some kind of RuPaul clothing, but it's really RW, Roca Wear. They didn't have the tops that I could see, but I'm always warm anyway, so I'll wear them with a wife-beater. I won't look conspicuous in Brooklyn.

Tomorrow I'm having a cocktail with a woman who's in the development office at St. Catherine's, my alma mater. We're meeting in a bar, and although we didn't describe ourselves or agree to wear particular corsages, I'm betting I can spot a Minnesotan across any crowded New York barroom.