All the Rage In 2008

Never underestimate a bad girl's rage, my friends.

The first hours of 2008 are shaping up quite nicely, so far. First, in the last hours of 2007, Helen gave me the most excellent birthday present: the Bad Girl's Rage-A-Day daily calendar! (Helen had been sick on my birthday, which is why she gave me my gift last night.) Little did the lovely and talented Helen know, I am well acquainted with Bad Girl products. I own both The Bad Girl's Guide To Getting What You Want and The Bad Girl's Guide To the Party Life, and I used to regularly buy the Bad Girl yearly appointment calendars... back when I actually would write down my appointments. I even went to Cameron Tuttle's book party for the Bad Girl's Guide To the Party Life back in 2002.

All of that is to say, this calendar is the perfect gift for me. And Helen and I decided that Rage-A-Day is going to be our motto for 2008. I think it fits, don't you?

The good birthday gift was merely the beginning of what turned out to be a very fun New Year's Eve. If you had asked me a year or two ago, I would have said that I wouldn't be caught dead in a bar on New Year's Eve. Let alone a bar in North Beach, of all neighborhoods. Between the amateur night crowds and... well, the amateur night crowds, I couldn't imagine anything more unpleasant. And frankly, I've always preferred house parties to bars on New Year's Eve.

Well, didn't I say in the last post on this space that I've learned never to say never? After beginning our evening at the bar at Mooses, Helen and I went to Tony Nik's to ring in 2008. Now, Tony Nik's is a fabulous little bar on, say, a Monday night when it's not crowded, but it can be downright awful when too many morons cram in there. But wouldn't you know it, even though it was very crowded last night, it was still really fun. Helen and I staked out some space next to the owner and his partner at the end of the bar, where we enjoyed the cocktails, music and inadvertent show provided by the other revelers. Always one to be sucked into music, which was 60's pop and soul last night, I found myself frequently writing song requests on napkins and having the bartenders pass them to the DJ, who was all the way across the bar. I know the DJ personally, and he played three of the songs I requested. That's not bad, I suppose.

I did notice after about half an hour or so that I was being given what can only be described as the stink eye by another female patron several feet away from me, whom I'd never seen before. At first she just seemed to be staring at me, but soon it became obvious that her glance possessed a rather judgmental quality. Helen agreed. I'm not a mind reader, so I have no idea why this woman was throwing me the sidelong glances. In retrospect, I do have a guess that involves a rather attractive man whom, for reasons of proximity only, I spent a good deal of the evening engaging in conversation, but I'm not going to get into it on this space... because I really don't know and why speculate publicly? Well, what's New Year's Eve without a little strange drama? Even if it's drama that only exists in someone else's head.

Rage-A-Day, my sweet peas.