I love movies, but I am extremely lazy about seeing them in the theatre. In fact, I am also extremely lazy about renting movies. I focus so much of my entertainment time on live theatre, live music and the few television shows I never miss, that movies end up drawing the short straw. So generally, I don't see a movie until it comes on cable. And I'm fine with that.
However, in the last week, I have seen not one, but two new films... in the theatre, no less. That never happens.
Last Sunday afternoon I went to see The Pursuit of Happyness. It was good, although not nearly as good as I thought it would be. The fact that I actually paid theatre prices to see this film is significant because throughout the years I have been very resistant to Will Smith. I think that's mostly because he started as a rap star, and I hate rap. Also, he tends to make mainstream, big budget action movies that don't interest me in the least. But I have to admit, he is a very charming movie star. And while not a great actor, he doesn't humiliate himself, either. I think the best part of The Pursuit of Happyness, though, is that it was filmed here in San Francisco. They actually shot one scene a couple of blocks from my apartment, and it was fun to see my little running route on the big screen. I will say, however, that I take umbrage with the fact that the little kid in the movie is sad in the scene they shot on my street. I think only scenes of joy should be filmed in my neighborhood.
Then last night, Jenny, Fabulous Patti and I saw Dreamgirls. I seriously cannot tell you the last time I was in a movie theatre on a Friday night. I actually ran into someone I know, and he told me I couldn't tell anyone he was there. I guess Dreamgirls isn't a manly enough film for him. Anyway, I was excited to see Dreamgirls because I remember when the musical came out 25 years ago, and I always wanted to see it but never did. Much like The Pursuit of Happyness, Dreamgirls is good but not outstanding. Although much of the singing is pretty fantastic. And it will probably win or at least be nominated for a bunch of Academy Awards because it's that kind of movie. My curiosity about the Supremes has been piqued, however. I always knew there was acrimony in that group, but after seeing this fictional story based on them... now I really want to know what went on there.
The timing was a little perfect for me to see Dreamgirls because on Thursday night I had rehearsal with the fake band, and it did not exactly go as planned. I ended up having a lengthy.. discussion, let's say... with the other members over some song choices. For crying out loud, we're a fake band doing this just for fun. It's not like we have to make "hard choices" because we're we're trying to make it big.
In the end, I got them (well, most of them) to listen to me and even agree with my point of view. And one of the guys told me he admires how I stood up for myself. The fake band really is a good time, but it's certainly not worth the headache of fighting over stuff. I blame all my friends and family members who are musicians for not warning me what a pain in the ass being in a band, even a fake one, can be.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
What's a Nice Girl Like You Doing In a Place Like This?
For me today that place was work. On my day off.
For reasons of illness and vacations, I was needed at work on what should have been the first day of my "weekend." Actually, I didn't mind at all. I got to do my absolute favorite part of my job, and I could use the extra cash. I'm salaried at work, but I make more money for certain tasks, and I was called in to perform one of the more lucrative tasks today. Given my spending this month, I very much welcomed the opportunity to pull in a few more bucks. It will make the heart attack that is my December credit card bill a little less painful when it arrives next week.
And I managed to go running, do laundry and give myself a face mask before joining my employer this afternoon. So it was kind of like a weekend day for me.
You may have heard that Christmas is now over. That always makes me a little sad. I hope you had a cool Yule. Even though I worked through most of the holiday, I did manage to have a delicious Christmas dinner with Jack and Fabulous Patti. And that was in addition to having dinner at work. Combine two dinners with all the other eating and drinking I've been doing this season, and I think I got about seven extra pounds for Christmas this year.
The good thing about virtually missing a holiday, though, is you get to have another one. At least I do. Tomorrow I'm going to visit my aunt, uncle, grandmother and various cousins for Christmas, 2006, Part Two. I can't wait to see my little cousin Anna. Whenever she and I get together, we play and color and do all the fun things that boring grown-ups forget to do. Besides, Santa accidentally dropped off a gift for her at my house, so I must deliver it.
After Christmas, the Sequel, comes New Year's Eve this weekend. New Year's Eve is always both amateur night and a let down, but I think I have a good plan to welcome 2007. I'm going to take Jack and his brother Jason to my friend Beth's party in Berkeley. Beth is a super talented writer and spoken-word artist, and she is married to a musician. The event is billed as a "party/talent show," so I think Jack, Jason and I are in for a treat. And we'll be inside Beth and Eli's home and away from all the drunk idiots in the bars and out on the streets.
And finally... It's official, the fake band is playing another gig with Wonderbread 5 in February. January and February are the most depressing months of the year for me, so I'm happy to have a project to focus on. We'll have fake band rehearsals throughout the next eight weeks, and I'm going to resume my singing lessons from Best Friend (a.k.a. Stephanie). I took a few before our Ashkenaz show, but I need more help. Best Friend has been teaching singing for years and has an amazing voice, herself, so I know I'm in good hands.
If you haven't yet, you might want to try to see us perform. Any day now we could realize that we're not a real band.
For reasons of illness and vacations, I was needed at work on what should have been the first day of my "weekend." Actually, I didn't mind at all. I got to do my absolute favorite part of my job, and I could use the extra cash. I'm salaried at work, but I make more money for certain tasks, and I was called in to perform one of the more lucrative tasks today. Given my spending this month, I very much welcomed the opportunity to pull in a few more bucks. It will make the heart attack that is my December credit card bill a little less painful when it arrives next week.
And I managed to go running, do laundry and give myself a face mask before joining my employer this afternoon. So it was kind of like a weekend day for me.
You may have heard that Christmas is now over. That always makes me a little sad. I hope you had a cool Yule. Even though I worked through most of the holiday, I did manage to have a delicious Christmas dinner with Jack and Fabulous Patti. And that was in addition to having dinner at work. Combine two dinners with all the other eating and drinking I've been doing this season, and I think I got about seven extra pounds for Christmas this year.
The good thing about virtually missing a holiday, though, is you get to have another one. At least I do. Tomorrow I'm going to visit my aunt, uncle, grandmother and various cousins for Christmas, 2006, Part Two. I can't wait to see my little cousin Anna. Whenever she and I get together, we play and color and do all the fun things that boring grown-ups forget to do. Besides, Santa accidentally dropped off a gift for her at my house, so I must deliver it.
After Christmas, the Sequel, comes New Year's Eve this weekend. New Year's Eve is always both amateur night and a let down, but I think I have a good plan to welcome 2007. I'm going to take Jack and his brother Jason to my friend Beth's party in Berkeley. Beth is a super talented writer and spoken-word artist, and she is married to a musician. The event is billed as a "party/talent show," so I think Jack, Jason and I are in for a treat. And we'll be inside Beth and Eli's home and away from all the drunk idiots in the bars and out on the streets.
And finally... It's official, the fake band is playing another gig with Wonderbread 5 in February. January and February are the most depressing months of the year for me, so I'm happy to have a project to focus on. We'll have fake band rehearsals throughout the next eight weeks, and I'm going to resume my singing lessons from Best Friend (a.k.a. Stephanie). I took a few before our Ashkenaz show, but I need more help. Best Friend has been teaching singing for years and has an amazing voice, herself, so I know I'm in good hands.
If you haven't yet, you might want to try to see us perform. Any day now we could realize that we're not a real band.
Sunday, December 24, 2006
I Believe in Santa
This is the best night of the year because it's the night Santa delivers love to all the good boys and girls everywhere! The Santa I believe in also generously gives love to bad boys and girls, too. Well, most of them... he might skip murderers and people like that. I also have a feeling George W. Bush gets coal in his Christmas stocking, but really that's between him and Santa.As for me, I am spending this Christmas Eve at work. Yes, you read that correctly. Now, understand that I'm not complaining. I have a job I enjoy and that many people would envy. Plus, I signed on for holidays and weekends when I chose to work in a 24-hour business. But still. Given a choice, I'd much rather be in Los Altos with my grandmother, aunt, uncle and little cousin Anna. Or at the dinner party to which Jack invited me tonight. Or down in L.A. where Diva Mommy is visiting my brother Mike, sister-in-law Maki and the fabulous Mikey Jet. If I were there, I also would be able to see my oldest sister Kathy and her kids, as well as my oldest brother Tom.
Well, heck, as long as I'm imagining places I'd rather be, I'd really rather Diva Mommy had stayed in Hawaii for the holiday, and we'd all gone to visit her there. Maybe some year. But for now, I sit with a job to do on Christmas Eve. Just like Santa.
And for all you cynics who would suggest that Santa isn't real, I have but one thing to say. Perhaps... and I stress the word perhaps... there is no rotund gentleman donning a red suit and circling the globe in a sleigh pulled by overworked reindeer right now, but look around tonight and tomorrow at all the love and happiness that has been building for the last month. Look at the smiles on people's faces and the light in their eyes. In fact, look all year at the love that surrounds us all, if and when we choose to see it. Look at all of that and then try to tell me there is no such thing as Santa Claus.
I didn't think you could.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Recipe For Success
Now that I am of an advanced age, I can draw upon my wisdom and experience to offer you sage advice on how to have a birthday that is truly top drawer. So, in no particular order:
1. Spend three hours at the spa. There is no better birthday present.
2. Drink champagne at Favorite Bar with your 91-year old grandmother who's in town from Rochester, New York.
3. Continue drinking champagne until you close down Favorite Bar and end up a little sick at home at about 3 a.m. (okay, maybe that's not such good advice).
4. At the end of the night have rambling, alcohol-infused conversations with several soccer-playing Favorite Bar regulars whom you don't usually hang out with.
5. Get your birthday cake from Stella Pastry. The only drawback is that it will be such a hit, you won't have any left over. And that's a true shame.
6. Enlist Kirk to DJ your party and give him an extensive playlist, thus ensuring you'll celebrate your 37th to the sounds of a bunch of your favorite songs. After all, no birthday is complete without The Jam's "Beat Surrender" and The English Beat's "Best Friend." Proclaiming that you want to marry Kirk every time he plays a song that makes you particularly happy might be going overboard, but he would probably appreciate it and find it a little funny, at least.
7. Order so much food that the next day you find yourself taking a huge meat and cheese tray and about 500 rolls from Palermo Deli to work for the Secret Santa potluck even though you have the day off. But keep the fruit and veggie tray for your own snacking goodness.
8. Make sure it rains cats and dogs, even though it was sunny the day before and the day after your birthday. Then decide that, like weddings, rain on your birthday must be good luck.
9. Feel the love of your friends and family, who braved said rain to celebrate with you. Without them, you'd be nothing but an old lady staring at an ever-increasing number of birthday candles.
10. Hit the gym the next day and top off your work-out with a spell in the steam room to metabolize and sweat out the alcohol.
And finally... promise yourself that you will be more mature next year and refrain from ringing in three-eight by drinking your weight in Perrier Jouet. You're likely to forget that one, but eventually it will sink in. Maybe by 47.
Tonight, instead of joining Helen, Erin and Andrew for dinner in Japantown, I'm going to order pizza, write thank you notes and go to bed at 9:00. I may have the partying prowess of a 25-year old, but I definitely have the hangover resilience of a 37-year old.
p.s. I'd post photos from the epic event, but once again Blogger doesn't want you to see them. So you'll have to use your imagination.
1. Spend three hours at the spa. There is no better birthday present.
2. Drink champagne at Favorite Bar with your 91-year old grandmother who's in town from Rochester, New York.
3. Continue drinking champagne until you close down Favorite Bar and end up a little sick at home at about 3 a.m. (okay, maybe that's not such good advice).
4. At the end of the night have rambling, alcohol-infused conversations with several soccer-playing Favorite Bar regulars whom you don't usually hang out with.
5. Get your birthday cake from Stella Pastry. The only drawback is that it will be such a hit, you won't have any left over. And that's a true shame.
6. Enlist Kirk to DJ your party and give him an extensive playlist, thus ensuring you'll celebrate your 37th to the sounds of a bunch of your favorite songs. After all, no birthday is complete without The Jam's "Beat Surrender" and The English Beat's "Best Friend." Proclaiming that you want to marry Kirk every time he plays a song that makes you particularly happy might be going overboard, but he would probably appreciate it and find it a little funny, at least.
7. Order so much food that the next day you find yourself taking a huge meat and cheese tray and about 500 rolls from Palermo Deli to work for the Secret Santa potluck even though you have the day off. But keep the fruit and veggie tray for your own snacking goodness.
8. Make sure it rains cats and dogs, even though it was sunny the day before and the day after your birthday. Then decide that, like weddings, rain on your birthday must be good luck.
9. Feel the love of your friends and family, who braved said rain to celebrate with you. Without them, you'd be nothing but an old lady staring at an ever-increasing number of birthday candles.
10. Hit the gym the next day and top off your work-out with a spell in the steam room to metabolize and sweat out the alcohol.
And finally... promise yourself that you will be more mature next year and refrain from ringing in three-eight by drinking your weight in Perrier Jouet. You're likely to forget that one, but eventually it will sink in. Maybe by 47.
Tonight, instead of joining Helen, Erin and Andrew for dinner in Japantown, I'm going to order pizza, write thank you notes and go to bed at 9:00. I may have the partying prowess of a 25-year old, but I definitely have the hangover resilience of a 37-year old.
p.s. I'd post photos from the epic event, but once again Blogger doesn't want you to see them. So you'll have to use your imagination.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Happy Birthday To Me
I am officially old. 37.
Many people, mostly my co-workers, have spent the last few weeks assuring me that 37 is not old. However, I have mentally been stuck at 25 for the last 12 years, so it's a little disconcerting to realize that I am, in fact, much older than that.
Well, advanced age be damned, I always treat myself well on my birthday. This year's giving from me to me began yesterday with a very fancy "Like Water For Chocolate" pedicure, complete with cocoa milk, cocoa mouse cream and an exfoliating chocolate scrub. Yummy. And my toes look really cute.
Later today I'm going to the spa to luxuriate poolside and indulge in a cranberry-pomegranate body buff. And then tonight about 40 of my closest friends and family will join me for a party at Favorite Bar.
Plus, a special shout-out of love goes to Diva Mommy, who went through labor on what must have been a deathly cold Wisconsin night to give birth to me at 3:43 a.m. on December 21, 1969. Talk about dedication.
Can you tell my birthday is my favorite day of the year?
Many people, mostly my co-workers, have spent the last few weeks assuring me that 37 is not old. However, I have mentally been stuck at 25 for the last 12 years, so it's a little disconcerting to realize that I am, in fact, much older than that.
Well, advanced age be damned, I always treat myself well on my birthday. This year's giving from me to me began yesterday with a very fancy "Like Water For Chocolate" pedicure, complete with cocoa milk, cocoa mouse cream and an exfoliating chocolate scrub. Yummy. And my toes look really cute.
Later today I'm going to the spa to luxuriate poolside and indulge in a cranberry-pomegranate body buff. And then tonight about 40 of my closest friends and family will join me for a party at Favorite Bar.
Plus, a special shout-out of love goes to Diva Mommy, who went through labor on what must have been a deathly cold Wisconsin night to give birth to me at 3:43 a.m. on December 21, 1969. Talk about dedication.
Can you tell my birthday is my favorite day of the year?
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The Fake Band That Wouldn't Die
Want know how to make your office holiday party more fun? Three months prior, form a fake band with some of your co-workers, learn some songs, and then accept an invitation to play said party. Even if many of the guests are more interested in the buffet line than what you're doing onstage, it will still be a blast.Especially if the party is at Bimbo's 365 Club.
By all rights, my fake band had no business being on that stage, but hey, it wasn't our idea. Last night, history was made once again, when Fake Band opened up for Wonderbread 5 at our company Christmas party. And the guys in Wonderbread 5 (all real musicians who have been selling out shows for years with their creative cover-band antics) were super nice to us and very supportive. They even invited us onstage to sing with them during their set and treated us like we actually have talent or something. That's some seriously generous Christmas spirit. This photo of us was taken backstage right after we played our set. Look at how happy we are; we're like kids running amok in a candy store.
Running amok is right. For something that started as a lark, our little fake band may be on the verge of getting out of control. For now it's still fun, though, so we're going with it. There's talk of us playing with Wonderbread 5 again in February, which would be scary because we would be in front of a real audience... not just our friends and co-workers.
I'll let you know if that happens. I'm still a little insecure about my singing, so I think I need to get over that if we're going to keep performing. Insecurity has no business invading the life of a pretend rock star. There are also still some ego issues in the band, but hopefully they won't overwhelm the fun and ruin everything.
Today Bimbo's, tomorrow... washed-up fake musicians thinking about a reunion tour.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Santa Sleuthing
I think I know who my Secret Santa at work is.
I'm actually a little embarrassed because I gushed about my holiday cocktail present to this person before processing the fact that he or she might be my secret benefactor. Well, if I'm right, at least my Secret Santa knows I was impressed with the first gift.
Whether I accurately have identified my personal Claus or not, I have received another excellent goodie. You see, my Secret Santa seems to know me pretty well. Not only did Santa know how much I would enjoy a fresh cocktail for the Christmas season, but he or she also is aware that I appreciate the occasional trashy magazine. A girl can't live on Vanity Fair and Entertainment Weekly alone, so I devoured the Star (that's right) left for me last night. Santa also left chocolates for me to munch on once I digested the ridiculous Hollywood gossip Star had to offer.
All in all, I'd say that was a pretty fun gift. Thanks, Santa!
This weekend I dove into my Christmas cards, and I am happy to report that I am about 2/3 done! I have written just over 50, and I probably have 25 to 30 more to go. I'm sending slightly fewer this year in part because I've truly fallen out of touch with some people, and in part because I've waited so long that I just don't have time to send as many as I usually do. What can I say; I'm usually much more on the ball with this project.
Tomorrow I brave the line at the post office for stamps. I imagine I have no hope of getting holiday stamps at this point unless I want the super religious ones or the Kwanzaa stamps. I'm thinking not so much on either count, so I'll probably see if the post office has any super hero stamps left (I got some of those in late October, and they're really fun). Otherwise it's plain old American flags on all my Christmas cards.
Believe it or not, my life has not been all about Christmas this weekend. On Friday night I met Tom, Ann Marie, Paul and Elizabeth at the Fillmore for the DeVotchka show. I've written about the brilliance that is DeVotchka on this space before, but I have to admit I was a little disappointed on Friday. My disappointment is due to no fault of the band; it's just that I'd gotten used to seeing them in venues much smaller than the Fillmore. The larger stage seemed to swallow them whole, and they added some weird dancers to the show who did nothing for me. I must admit, I never thought I'd come to think of the Fillmore as too large, but small clubs are just so much better.
And finally, I must thank Terry for admitting her "dirty old woman" tendencies by writing today on her blog about a flirtatious young grocery clerk she knows. Apparently she flirts back with him even though he's only in college. I bring this up because these days I find myself attracted to a 23-year old lad. Now, luckily for me, said boy (and I mean boy) is not available, which is a good thing because every time I think about how young he is I get a little grossed out. I mean, he was in grammar school when I graduated from college. Can you say ick??!!! He is awfully cute, though. Hee, hee....
It looks like I'm a dirty old woman, too.
I'm actually a little embarrassed because I gushed about my holiday cocktail present to this person before processing the fact that he or she might be my secret benefactor. Well, if I'm right, at least my Secret Santa knows I was impressed with the first gift.
Whether I accurately have identified my personal Claus or not, I have received another excellent goodie. You see, my Secret Santa seems to know me pretty well. Not only did Santa know how much I would enjoy a fresh cocktail for the Christmas season, but he or she also is aware that I appreciate the occasional trashy magazine. A girl can't live on Vanity Fair and Entertainment Weekly alone, so I devoured the Star (that's right) left for me last night. Santa also left chocolates for me to munch on once I digested the ridiculous Hollywood gossip Star had to offer.
All in all, I'd say that was a pretty fun gift. Thanks, Santa!
This weekend I dove into my Christmas cards, and I am happy to report that I am about 2/3 done! I have written just over 50, and I probably have 25 to 30 more to go. I'm sending slightly fewer this year in part because I've truly fallen out of touch with some people, and in part because I've waited so long that I just don't have time to send as many as I usually do. What can I say; I'm usually much more on the ball with this project.
Tomorrow I brave the line at the post office for stamps. I imagine I have no hope of getting holiday stamps at this point unless I want the super religious ones or the Kwanzaa stamps. I'm thinking not so much on either count, so I'll probably see if the post office has any super hero stamps left (I got some of those in late October, and they're really fun). Otherwise it's plain old American flags on all my Christmas cards.
Believe it or not, my life has not been all about Christmas this weekend. On Friday night I met Tom, Ann Marie, Paul and Elizabeth at the Fillmore for the DeVotchka show. I've written about the brilliance that is DeVotchka on this space before, but I have to admit I was a little disappointed on Friday. My disappointment is due to no fault of the band; it's just that I'd gotten used to seeing them in venues much smaller than the Fillmore. The larger stage seemed to swallow them whole, and they added some weird dancers to the show who did nothing for me. I must admit, I never thought I'd come to think of the Fillmore as too large, but small clubs are just so much better.
And finally, I must thank Terry for admitting her "dirty old woman" tendencies by writing today on her blog about a flirtatious young grocery clerk she knows. Apparently she flirts back with him even though he's only in college. I bring this up because these days I find myself attracted to a 23-year old lad. Now, luckily for me, said boy (and I mean boy) is not available, which is a good thing because every time I think about how young he is I get a little grossed out. I mean, he was in grammar school when I graduated from college. Can you say ick??!!! He is awfully cute, though. Hee, hee....
It looks like I'm a dirty old woman, too.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Rock and Roll Christmas Spirit
While the holiday season is still flying by way too fast for my taste, at least I'm starting to get into the spirit a little. I had the greatest day at work today, and it started with a visit from my Secret Santa. Last night I donned my own Santa cap and went shopping for the co-worker whose name I drew. After stealthily depositing a gift for that person this morning, I saw a goody in my own mail box.
Do you know what it was? Cash!!! $7 to be precise.
That's right, just like our grandmothers used to send us for Christmas when we were, like, 8 years old. But this cash came with instructions. I was informed that it was to be used to purchase myself a holiday cocktail to get my festive mood on. Secret Santa went on to explain that the magic to make a freshly poured cocktail appear in my mailbox at work has yet to be invented because the cocktail would spill. Plus, it is, of course, against the rules.
I have the best Secret Santa ever.
After that, I joined half of my fake bandmates to record a holiday greeting for work. We do that every year. Not the fake band, necessarily, because we have only existed for a few months. But we employees do record holiday greetings every year. Yes, we're geeks, but we know that already. Anyway, my fake band played and sang a version of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" with specifically tailored lyrics written by Doug. In general, I hate that sadistic little song, but Doug's lyrics were very cute. And besides, any day that I get to sing at work is a good day.
Also, my fake band is going to play at our company Christmas party next week. How fun is that?!? It's extra fun because the party will be at Bimbo's. Who thought I'd ever sing on that stage? Certainly not me. There is a little drama in the fake band because one of the members has developed a seriously over-inflated ego. Or he's always had one and is just now letting us see it. Anyway, it's annoying everyone. Well, maybe it's just annoying me. It's not worth being annoyed, though, so I'm just going to try to look at his attitude as great fodder for our Behind the Music episode.
At this point I bet you're wondering if I actually did any work while at work today. Well, in fact, I did. First I had to go look at a really icky car accident in the Mission. Luckily for me all the injured people had been taken away before I got there. Without them, it was actually kind of cool. A mini-van had flipped over and landed in a heap of twisted metal on top of two parked cars.
Okay, it probably wasn't too cool for the people who got hurt in the crash. Nor was it cool for the owners of the innocent parked cars. I'd say they probably had a pretty bad day.
Later, I went to Berkeley to meet a realtor who is posting video tours of the homes she's selling on YouTube. She was nice, plus her workplace is right above a bakery, so I got to pick up snacks for my drive back to the City. Yes, these are the kinds of things I do for work.
Unfortunately, despite my heightened spirit, I still have yet to start my Christmas cards. This is bad. My friends really aren't going to get holiday greetings from me until February.
Do you know what it was? Cash!!! $7 to be precise.
That's right, just like our grandmothers used to send us for Christmas when we were, like, 8 years old. But this cash came with instructions. I was informed that it was to be used to purchase myself a holiday cocktail to get my festive mood on. Secret Santa went on to explain that the magic to make a freshly poured cocktail appear in my mailbox at work has yet to be invented because the cocktail would spill. Plus, it is, of course, against the rules.
I have the best Secret Santa ever.
After that, I joined half of my fake bandmates to record a holiday greeting for work. We do that every year. Not the fake band, necessarily, because we have only existed for a few months. But we employees do record holiday greetings every year. Yes, we're geeks, but we know that already. Anyway, my fake band played and sang a version of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" with specifically tailored lyrics written by Doug. In general, I hate that sadistic little song, but Doug's lyrics were very cute. And besides, any day that I get to sing at work is a good day.
Also, my fake band is going to play at our company Christmas party next week. How fun is that?!? It's extra fun because the party will be at Bimbo's. Who thought I'd ever sing on that stage? Certainly not me. There is a little drama in the fake band because one of the members has developed a seriously over-inflated ego. Or he's always had one and is just now letting us see it. Anyway, it's annoying everyone. Well, maybe it's just annoying me. It's not worth being annoyed, though, so I'm just going to try to look at his attitude as great fodder for our Behind the Music episode.
At this point I bet you're wondering if I actually did any work while at work today. Well, in fact, I did. First I had to go look at a really icky car accident in the Mission. Luckily for me all the injured people had been taken away before I got there. Without them, it was actually kind of cool. A mini-van had flipped over and landed in a heap of twisted metal on top of two parked cars.
Okay, it probably wasn't too cool for the people who got hurt in the crash. Nor was it cool for the owners of the innocent parked cars. I'd say they probably had a pretty bad day.
Later, I went to Berkeley to meet a realtor who is posting video tours of the homes she's selling on YouTube. She was nice, plus her workplace is right above a bakery, so I got to pick up snacks for my drive back to the City. Yes, these are the kinds of things I do for work.
Unfortunately, despite my heightened spirit, I still have yet to start my Christmas cards. This is bad. My friends really aren't going to get holiday greetings from me until February.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Speeding Through December
As I've mentioned before on this space, in my opinion, this really is the most the wonderful time of the year. But somehow... I feel like I'm missing it this year.How can this be happening?
My apartment is decked out in true Christmas glory. I've been singing along with all the finest holiday music. And most importantly, I'm making plans to celebrate my Favorite Day of the Year: my birthday (that's December 21st, in case you were wondering). But somehow I'm not feeling the spirit or the love.
I'm crabby about some things at work, and that doesn't help. It's not important what those things are, and I refuse to give them power by writing about them. I really like my job, too, making these irritations even more frustrating.
But what concerns me most is that it's already mid-December!!! My favorite time of year is passing me by, and I'm not even reveling in it. I'm also terribly behind on my Christmas cards. As in, I haven't even started writing them yet. At this rate, 100 of my closest friends will receive holiday greetings from me in mid-February.
I have to pull myself together. That's all there is to it.
Well, at least we're doing Secret Santa at work, and I'm very excited about that. Last year I was Angela's Secret Santa, and I had the best time getting presents for her. I got her some baby stuff (she was pregnant at the time); I made her a CD featuring holiday songs and excellent local music; and for the final gift, I got her some of those cool latte bowls from Anthropologie. Gee, I hope I pick Angela's name again. She's super fun to shop for.
Okay, my Christmas spirit is starting to pick up a tiny bit. Let's just hope it's in full swing by the 25th...
Friday, December 08, 2006
All We Are Saying...
.... is that Mark David Chapman sucks. Seriously. That dude will not have a good time in the afterlife. I'm just saying.Admittedly, my favorite Beatle is Paul McCartney, but I can't help but wonder how much future creative genius was lost on this day 26 years ago. And every 8th of December I get a tiny bit sad, but I appreciate all that we got to enjoy.
All because of some freakshow loser who was looking for attention. I hope he never, ever gets out of prison. In my opinion, anyone who murders and stifles music deserves no mercy. There. I've said it, and I'm not taking it back. Perhaps that's not as zen and forgiving as John would have been, but whatever.
Okay, bitterness over. Perhaps I should take a lesson and give peace a chance. To quote Paul, himself: "And if I say, I really loved you and was glad you came along..." Continue to rest in peace, John. Thanks for making so many people so incredibly happy.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Tis the Season: Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 26
So apparently there are games in the blogosphere that involve "tagging" other bloggers so they are obligated to write about certain things. Generally, I ignore these silly exercises, but today Terry had one on her blog that is a reindeer game I'll happily play. Because it's about music and Christmas! Tagged bloggers are supposed to list their five favorite Christmas songs, but I can't limit myself to that few. So if you would, please indulge my slightly lengthy list of favorite holiday melodies.
1. Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home). David Letterman calls this the greatest rock and roll Christmas song ever written, and I have to agree. I'll take the original Darlene Love recording or U2's 1987 version; both make me happy. What a shame Phil Spector is now crazy and on trial for murder.
2. You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch. If you aren't affected by Dr. Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas, then clearly your heart is three sizes too small. And hearing Tony the Tiger croon this song throughout the cartoon special makes my heart about ten sizes bigger.
3. Do You Hear What I Hear. The Bing Crosby version, thank you very much. You may think it's cheesy, but I call this Rat Pack-era Holiday Goodness. Besides, we sang it in my high school chorus, giving it a soft spot in my heart.
4. Christmas Wrapping. Is it wrong that I get a little choked up when the heroine of this song hooks up with the guy she's "been chasing all year" on Christmas Eve? It's enough to remind you just how good 80's new wave really is. Rest in peace, Patty Donahue.
5. Do They Know It's Christmas. As far as I know, there is never snow in Africa at Christmas time... a holiday season the majority of Ethiopians don't even celebrate. However, I give Bob Geldof and Midge Ure credit not only for raising money to help fight starvation there, but for actually writing a decent song to do so. Very much unlike the insufferable "We Are the World."
6. Sleigh Ride. Another one from my high school chorus days. It's a super fun carolling song, and I have learned over the years that people are very impressed when you know all the words.
7. Happy Xmas, War Is Over. All I have to say is: thank you, John and Yoko.
8. Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth. Bing makes another appearance on this list, and this time he's paired with David Bowie. I had no interest in "Little Drummer Boy" until I heard this version.
9. 2000 Miles. Another one that has been known to choke me up a little bit. What is it with 80's bands and their holiday songs?
10. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. Only as sung by Judy Garland in Meet Me in St. Louis. The version people sing now has lyrics that are just slightly different from the original, but to me, the alteration is completely egregious. The modern lyrics wouldn't even make Margaret O'Brien mist up, let alone cry.
11. Christmas Time Is Here. Talk about choked up. Don't even tell me you don't want to cry when Linus talks about the true meaning of Christmas. With Vince Guaraldi in the background, there's not a dry eye across the country when Charlie Brown's annual television special airs.
I'll probably think of about ten other songs I love as soon as I publish this post. For example, at this moment I am loving "O Holy Night" because of a scene they just did featuring New Orleans musicians on Studio 60. Yes, the scene made me cry. It's true, I'm a complete sap and proud of it.
1. Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home). David Letterman calls this the greatest rock and roll Christmas song ever written, and I have to agree. I'll take the original Darlene Love recording or U2's 1987 version; both make me happy. What a shame Phil Spector is now crazy and on trial for murder.
2. You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch. If you aren't affected by Dr. Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas, then clearly your heart is three sizes too small. And hearing Tony the Tiger croon this song throughout the cartoon special makes my heart about ten sizes bigger.
3. Do You Hear What I Hear. The Bing Crosby version, thank you very much. You may think it's cheesy, but I call this Rat Pack-era Holiday Goodness. Besides, we sang it in my high school chorus, giving it a soft spot in my heart.
4. Christmas Wrapping. Is it wrong that I get a little choked up when the heroine of this song hooks up with the guy she's "been chasing all year" on Christmas Eve? It's enough to remind you just how good 80's new wave really is. Rest in peace, Patty Donahue.
5. Do They Know It's Christmas. As far as I know, there is never snow in Africa at Christmas time... a holiday season the majority of Ethiopians don't even celebrate. However, I give Bob Geldof and Midge Ure credit not only for raising money to help fight starvation there, but for actually writing a decent song to do so. Very much unlike the insufferable "We Are the World."
6. Sleigh Ride. Another one from my high school chorus days. It's a super fun carolling song, and I have learned over the years that people are very impressed when you know all the words.
7. Happy Xmas, War Is Over. All I have to say is: thank you, John and Yoko.
8. Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth. Bing makes another appearance on this list, and this time he's paired with David Bowie. I had no interest in "Little Drummer Boy" until I heard this version.
9. 2000 Miles. Another one that has been known to choke me up a little bit. What is it with 80's bands and their holiday songs?
10. Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. Only as sung by Judy Garland in Meet Me in St. Louis. The version people sing now has lyrics that are just slightly different from the original, but to me, the alteration is completely egregious. The modern lyrics wouldn't even make Margaret O'Brien mist up, let alone cry.
11. Christmas Time Is Here. Talk about choked up. Don't even tell me you don't want to cry when Linus talks about the true meaning of Christmas. With Vince Guaraldi in the background, there's not a dry eye across the country when Charlie Brown's annual television special airs.
I'll probably think of about ten other songs I love as soon as I publish this post. For example, at this moment I am loving "O Holy Night" because of a scene they just did featuring New Orleans musicians on Studio 60. Yes, the scene made me cry. It's true, I'm a complete sap and proud of it.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Cocktails and Cookies
Have you ever eaten so much you just wanted to die to escape the pain?
Well, that was me on Friday night. I went to a holiday cocktail and cookie party featuring both yummy drinks and treats. Jim and Molly hosted the affair in their very grown up apartment, and all the guests brought homemade cookies to share! Okay, everybody brought homemade cookies except me. Unless you consider that bakery on Stockton and Vallejo to be my home. No, I didn't think so.
Anyway, there were so many good cookies, as well as savory snacks, that I couldn't help but overindulge. In every way. After mixing myself a sour apple martini (one of the more festive cocktails, if you ask me), I dove into the hors d'oeuvres. Only after I was sufficiently sated on chicken skewers, crudites and meatballs did I take the plunge and start on the cookies. There was no coming back after that. Don't worry, I talked to people, too. I hadn't seen Denise and Paul, my connection to the party, since the big fake band performance, so it was good to catch up with them, as well as many of their friends I have met only once or twice before. It was also nice to see Jim and Molly, who are a total power couple. Molly runs marathons, Jim does Iron Man competitions, and Jim's iPod provided a fantastic soundtrack for the evening.
You know it's a good night when you have all the sour apple martinis you can drink and all the cookies you can eat while "Not Too Soon" by the Throwing Muses and "I Confess" by the English Beat tumble from the sound system.
We all got to take cookies home, too. I happily filled my bag with goodies, but in an effort to stop the madness, I took my cookies to work yesterday to make sure someone who wasn't me ate them all. I must add that Paul told me his chocolate chip cookies were the best he'd ever made, and while I can't say I'd ever eaten his chocolate chip cookies before, these were pretty darn good. Nestle would be very proud.
After a night like that, one would think I would have eaten nothing but carrot sticks and rice cakes yesterday, but not so much. After work I met Jack at a Vietnamese restaurant in the Mission called Sunflower. We had fresh spring rolls, shaken beef and garlic vegetables, and the portions were far from small. Yummy. Afterward we met Emily and her boyfriend at the 500 Club. Wendy and Camilla were supposed to join us, but they didn't make it. However, on the way there, we ran into my friends Patrick and Mary, who were, coincidentally, headed for the very same bar. So we chatted with them and Kevin and Judy over drinks while the melodious tones of the Clash, the Go-Go's, the Beach Boys, Iggy Pop, Smokey Robinson, the Beatles, the Replacements and X filled the room.
I programmed the jukebox, in case you hadn't guessed.
After a weekend like this, I really do need to eat nothing but carrot sticks and rice cakes, but that probably won't happen. I swear, if I didn't exercise so much, I would probably weigh 400 pounds. It's a good thing I'm so addicted to endorphins.
Well, that was me on Friday night. I went to a holiday cocktail and cookie party featuring both yummy drinks and treats. Jim and Molly hosted the affair in their very grown up apartment, and all the guests brought homemade cookies to share! Okay, everybody brought homemade cookies except me. Unless you consider that bakery on Stockton and Vallejo to be my home. No, I didn't think so.
Anyway, there were so many good cookies, as well as savory snacks, that I couldn't help but overindulge. In every way. After mixing myself a sour apple martini (one of the more festive cocktails, if you ask me), I dove into the hors d'oeuvres. Only after I was sufficiently sated on chicken skewers, crudites and meatballs did I take the plunge and start on the cookies. There was no coming back after that. Don't worry, I talked to people, too. I hadn't seen Denise and Paul, my connection to the party, since the big fake band performance, so it was good to catch up with them, as well as many of their friends I have met only once or twice before. It was also nice to see Jim and Molly, who are a total power couple. Molly runs marathons, Jim does Iron Man competitions, and Jim's iPod provided a fantastic soundtrack for the evening.
You know it's a good night when you have all the sour apple martinis you can drink and all the cookies you can eat while "Not Too Soon" by the Throwing Muses and "I Confess" by the English Beat tumble from the sound system.
We all got to take cookies home, too. I happily filled my bag with goodies, but in an effort to stop the madness, I took my cookies to work yesterday to make sure someone who wasn't me ate them all. I must add that Paul told me his chocolate chip cookies were the best he'd ever made, and while I can't say I'd ever eaten his chocolate chip cookies before, these were pretty darn good. Nestle would be very proud.
After a night like that, one would think I would have eaten nothing but carrot sticks and rice cakes yesterday, but not so much. After work I met Jack at a Vietnamese restaurant in the Mission called Sunflower. We had fresh spring rolls, shaken beef and garlic vegetables, and the portions were far from small. Yummy. Afterward we met Emily and her boyfriend at the 500 Club. Wendy and Camilla were supposed to join us, but they didn't make it. However, on the way there, we ran into my friends Patrick and Mary, who were, coincidentally, headed for the very same bar. So we chatted with them and Kevin and Judy over drinks while the melodious tones of the Clash, the Go-Go's, the Beach Boys, Iggy Pop, Smokey Robinson, the Beatles, the Replacements and X filled the room.
I programmed the jukebox, in case you hadn't guessed.
After a weekend like this, I really do need to eat nothing but carrot sticks and rice cakes, but that probably won't happen. I swear, if I didn't exercise so much, I would probably weigh 400 pounds. It's a good thing I'm so addicted to endorphins.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Theatre That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 11
All Wear Bowlers at Berkeley RepIf you think you don't like Vaudeville-style comedy, I suggest that you are wrong. And All Wear Bowlers will prove that. Geoff Sobelle and Trey Lyford have created an absolutely genius piece. Yes, the play has its share of typical pratfalls and spit takes, but it also features some brilliant comedic moments brought to life with impressively precise timing. It's a laugh-so-much-your-sides-will-ache experience that even Felix the Cat would enjoy.
The show does drag a little bit during the second half, but given that it's only 75 minutes long, I think that can be forgiven. Word to the wise: you may not want to sit in the front row for this one. That's all I'll say about that, but don't say you weren't warned.
See All Wear Bowlers and then deal with your desire to rent about 1000 silent films and spend all your days watching them. It's well worth it.
In other news, it was Emily's birthday last night, and a bunch of us gathered to celebrate the occasion. We went to a place called John Collins, which, judging by how crowded it was, must be one of the new hip places. See what happens when I just frequent the same four bars over and over again: I have no idea where all the cool kids are going.
In general, I'm okay with that, but I digress.
Anyway, Emily was a little over-served on her birthday, but she was as charming as always. At one point, I broke away from the group and made some new friends. I was hot and needed to sit down, and a lovely couple named Seth and Margaret shared their couch space with me. They were super nice. Later in the evening Seth donned his wingman hat and brought his single friend, Terrence, over to talk to several of us women. Terrence was cute, but as Margaret had warned me beforehand, he had a little bad breath problem. He also didn't seem to have much personality, but he didn't even know us, so that may be an unfair judgment.
Get the guy a little Scope, and he may turn out to be a serious catch.
So that's all from me at the moment. I've got to take my Sassy little behind to work now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)