ooooh boy...

I've already talked on here about the Gay Theatre festival that started yesterday. I'm ashamed to say that I actually dropped into The Dragon on George's Street last night to see if it was full of gay theatrical types. I'm going to stop going in there, although I do love the decor. It's just too sad sitting among some of the handsomest men in Dublin and not being chatted up by any of 'em!!!

Anyway, I got text from my Uncle Joey who tells me that he's coming up to see a show with his, eh, buddy,this weekend and can they stay in my apartment. I'm really glad the whole out-of-the-closet thing is working out well for him, but when he originally came over what now seems like ages ago, he stayed in a hotel, but now that he's actually living in Ireland, seems he wants to stay in this EXTREMELY TINY apartment. Meanwhile, he's asked me not to tell anyone back home that he's living with another man, in case they "jump to conclusions".

[Rolls eyes]

Anyway, the prize for the best-named show in the Gay Theatre Festival has just got to be Oklahomo from the London Gay Men's Chorus, and I've just gotta go.

Interesting news: My greengrocer, fount of all useful information about Dublin, is going to a show starring a close friend of his daughter, a successful milliner. "I got an awful shock when he came out of the closet," he said, "but I'm after getting used to it now, and I always tell him whatever anyone does, so long as they don't do it on the streets and scare the horses, it's none of my business."

I so love that guy, and I would so miss him if I ever leave Dublin. He's such a poet!

Got to run -- my flatmate is teaching me how to make "osso buco" (spelling?) tonight.