As it turns out, I LIKE BAROQUE OPERA. I was a chamber music snob, but not anymore.

In other news, I'm in a cafe, in which they are playing The Best of John Mayer, the Worst Album Ever (if it exists). Especially unbearable is the song about fathers and daughters. "Fathers, be good to your daughters," he croons, "so they will be nice to me" (paraphrasing). Misogynist crap (however unintentional), which voids Mayer's dreaminess utterly.

Apart from that, I am enrolled in an early music workshop here in Seattle this week, and am enjoying it very much. My feet hurt from the pavane. People must have had amazingly strong arches and calf muscles in those days. I suppose that's why the fellows wore tights and turned out their feet to bow and stuff. I think it would be fun to walk around in a big hat covered with ostrich plumes with a sword on my belt. Much more interesting than those big dresses. I wonder if I could have been the George Sand of the baroque....