These Boots Are Made For Walking

Not that I necessarily believe the words I write here to be incredibly profound and deep, but I admit this post may be a little bit fluffier and... well, materialistic... than most. January is dragging on at a glacial pace, so I have come up with ways to deal with my winter blues. And yes, for the record, I know the Bay Area has had significantly less rain than normal so far this year, but it's still winter. It's been cold; the days are short; and no lack of rainfall will make up for the fact that January sucks.

Anyway, I've found that one cure for the doldrums is to sing. No matter how good you are or aren't, singing is a guaranteed pick me up. And providing your neighbors with the entertainment, if you'd like to call it that, of your melodious warbling is just an added bonus. I live in an apartment building, and while the walls between units are very well insulated, the doors are not. So I'm certain anyone who may be out in the hall when I free my inner chanteuse is well aware of every note. Plus, I practice with a Walkman, so all anyone else hears is me. The songs I'm working on for the fake band are one thing, but I can only imagine what any unsuspecting neighbor thinks when I'm doing my exercises. Being serenaded by a string of a capella "mee-oh"s, "kee-kay"s and "nee-ah"s must be delightful.

Well, this is urban living; it's almost required that your neighbors think you're a freak.

Looking for another guaranteed way to perk up a boring winter day? Shop. For shoes, specifically. No amount of boredom, seasonal affective disorder or cabin fever can quash the joy to be had when purchasing shoes. Today, I hit the jackpot. I bought myself two pairs of Franco Sarto boots and a pair of pumps for only $200, total. Yes, $200 is $200, but when was the last time you got two pairs of boots and a pair of shoes all for that price? They are all extremely cute and have sturdy heels, which is important for me since I walk everywhere. And two of the three pair have three inch heels, making me super tall when I wear them. I love that.

January-Shmanuary, I have new boots.

In case you were wondering, Chris' birthday poker party yesterday afternoon was quite fun. Unfortunately, I could only stay for a couple of hours before needing to go to work, but perhaps that was for the best, given that I stink at poker. I can't bluff to save my life, and I bet conservatively when I should be aggressive and aggressively when I should show restraint. So needless to say, I always lose. But it was still fun, with excellent company and all the cupcakes we could eat while we played.

We're very lucky Chris was born 33 years ago.

My final musing this Sunday evening is on Favorite Bar... and the fact that it may lose its most favorable status. When I began frequenting Favorite Bar just under four years ago, it was a popular, but not overly-crowded, diamond of a spot with an accessible retro-eclectic vibe. In other words, it was perfect for me. A couple of the bartenders were also musicians and huge music lovers, and they would bring in cd's of actual interesting music to play during their shifts. Well, those dudes haven't worked there for over a year now. No, that's not Favorite Bar's fault, and I believe the former bartenders are happier with their current work lives, but still. To replace them, very nice, but significantly less creative bar-keeps have been hired, and the bar's soundtrack is provided almost exclusively by satellite radio now. I still hear some gems while I'm in there, but it's not the same.

I have remained a loyal FB denizen nonetheless, but there are some more changes in the offing. Specifically, some mention of a flat screen television, Super Bowl parties (okay, that can only happen once a year, but that's more than enough) and new neon for the sign out front to drive in more business. The rather small Favorite Bar is already far more crowded on weekend nights than when I first started going there, and it's in a fairly trendy neighborhood. How many more customers do they need?

Not to sound like an old curmudgeon, but Favorite Bar is evolving into something that can't hold a candle to what the joint was "in my day." So it might be time to promote Favorite Bar 2 to the top slot and limit my Favorite Bar visits to only the most random of weeknights when I can be assured the crowd will be small and the flat screen tv won't completely ruin the atmosphere. If I wanted a sports bar, I'd hang out in the Marina or on Upper Polk Street.

Well, I still have new boots.