I should have known this day would come. I have, for well over a decade, avoided a Madonna concert. I have never seen, in real life, a "Diva" of any sort, save for the time I, by pure accident, was sat next to Liza Minelly at a Broadway show, which I was coerced into attending (Aside, at the same show I used the restroom next to the guy from NYPD Blue, Denise Franz? The guy didn't seem to have the slightest grasp of the urinal selection rules most courteous men know by heart; uncomfortable...).
Point is, my personal aesthetic sense has dodged some ugly bullets over the years, despite being gay.
But then, last year, Rob found out that Cher would be putting on a show in Vegas. It was so long ago! Past-me didn't put up much of a fight and now present-me is about to pay the bejeweled, feathery, leather-thong-wearing price. We will soon be headed to Vegas, like a couple of gay salmon spawning our way down Interstate-15 to be with our kin.
Curse you, past-me!
It really is a cruel joke the universe has played on me, to make me gay and then alienate my aesthetic sense from the gay aesthetic, from my gay brothers, and worse, from my husband. Thank goodness there are blogs on which to vent. This is Rob's B-Day present, and thus I can't complain to him... much.
Oy, and Vegas. You got to watch yourself in that town. The sight of little old ladies shoving their pensions down a machine that any one who's as much as taken day-one of an undergrad statistics course knows is no more than a collection plate for a faith that can't even get inspiration right... Well, Mammon would blush at the sights in some of those casinos, and it can bring you down.
Anyway, wish me luck, and I hope one of us has your sympathies; one of us deserves them. Hey, is there still a Star Trek attraction in one of those casinos? Not that I'm that nerdy or would force Rob into it, no... but you know, in case we have some extra time...