Diurnal

[A pleasant dinner last night with Tran and a new one...let's call him Lionel. (I've always liked that name; unusual, but totally normal. That's on my fantasy short-list if I'm ever in the unlikely position to name a boy-child.) L. works some nights at the Friendly Neighborhood Cabaret, but John and I have never socialized with him. He and John share a taste for tech-y gadgets and, it seems, pop music, and had been talking about hanging out for some time. At last minute, Tran called for a free meal. (Happy to provide; he only calls every once in a while, he's duly appreciative of my cooking, and he always has seconds.)]

[Fusilli with chicken sausage, sauteed red peppers and mushrooms, and fresh mozzarella. Salad. Bread. Wine. And lots of footless discussion about movies and movie stars. Poor Tran and his addiction to Julia Roberts. Many jokes about her playing the same role over and over. (How many variations on the _____ with a heart of gold could we come up with? A lot.) After John and I had sufficiently ragged him, Tran desperately asked which of the current big actresses we liked. It really took a while to come up with some names, and we had to admit that even each of those (Nicole Kidman, Laura Linney, Julianne Moore, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Parker Posey (talk about playing the same role over and over), Reese Witherspoon, Renee Zellweger) have made their share of crap. John and Lionel spent a lot less time at the computer than anyone anticipated (geek night postponed for mainstream gay night), we laughed a lot, and suddenly we were all turning into pumpkins at 11 p.m.]

[Whereupon I couldn't get to sleep. I'd had a strong cup of coffee at 6 p.m., and finally gave in to insomnia and a vague feeling of unease. I got up and read an old collection of Gore Vidal essays before acceding to John's sleepy summons sometime after 1:30.]

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