Theatre That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 11

All Wear Bowlers at Berkeley Rep

If 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.

Bring On the Diamonds and Tin

San Francisco and I are celebrating our anniversary! We've been together for ten years and are still going strong.

On November 30, 1996, my sister Fabulous Patti and I drove up to the City after spending Thanksgiving with Diva Mommy in Pasadena, and my new life began. I had been living in New England since graduating from Brown in 1992, and, by and large, I hated it there. Fabulous Patti, who had graduated from Berkeley in 1981 and lived in the East Bay for several years before heading to medical school and then to get a masters in public health, had moved back to the Bay Area that July and offered to let me live with her in the City rent-free while I got settled.

How cool is that??!!!

Actually it's even cooler than you think because Fabulous Patti ended up letting me live with her without paying a dime of rent for a year and a half. That's one super sibling.

Anyway, I remember how much promise the City by the Bay held for me. Even though I had only visited three times before, and the first two times had been before I was seven years old, I knew I would fit right in. I would have a tremendous career married to a delicately Bohemian lifestyle. I would meet the man of my dreams. I would be an active member of the West Coast intelligentsia.

Well, the man of my dreams hasn't exactly materialized, even though I have dated some characters. Most of the dreams my paramours have ended up in have seemed more like nightmares, but for the most part, the gentlemen have been lovely fellows. Sort of, anyway.

I'm not really the Bohemian type either. I had seen Rent on Broadway about five months before I moved here, and I was on a struggling artist kick. I did spend several years as an actor, though, and did a lot of crappy plays in small theatre spaces in the Tenderloin, North Beach and the Mission. That kind of counts as Bohemian, right? And now I'm in my fake band, and it really doesn't get much more struggling than us.

My career, however, has gone swimmingly. If I were a more aggressive person I probably could have taken it to even greater heights by now, but in a lot of ways, my work life has surpassed all my expectations. Even when I was unemployed in 2004, I did some cool things, like work in the District Attorney's Office. Not bad, considering I'm not a lawyer. I actually began working for my current bosses a mere two weeks after my arrival, but at that time I held a different position than I do now. I subsequently worked for four other employers and had that little unemployment thing before coming back to the people who first welcomed me professionally. I guess things really do come full circle.

But probably the best part of my life in San Francisco has been the friends I've made. Yes, the live music is great, the theatre is awesome and the bars and restaurants have amazing treats to offer, but I have met some tremendous people. I even met some of them on the first full day I lived here, and we are still friends.

Now, no relationship is perfect, and San Francisco and I have had some rocky times. I've been robbed several times, and some creepy guy with a decidedly menacing attitude followed me through Golden Gate Park one afternoon in 1999. Plus, the cost of living here can occasionally cause tension. But we've been good at working through our problems.

Overall, I really don't think it gets much better than this (well, maybe if I lived in Hawaii, but that's another story). No offense, New England, but after ten years, I can definitively say that San Francisco kicks your ass. Okay, I've been saying that since my first week here, but now I have a decade of evidence to back me up.

A Finger Food, Jazz-Soaked Good Time

With the long holiday weekend rolling toward its end, Ann Marie and I decided to hit the town last night. After all, what else would two sassy, single girls do on a Saturday night? Okay, technically we're only talking one single girl, but Ann Marie's boyfriend is out of town, so she was an honorary single girl for the evening.

We began our good time by indulging in East African cuisine at Massawa on Haight Street. Once we had eaten our weight in sambusas, beef, chick peas, mushrooms and injera, we pulled ourselves away from the restaurant and headed to Favorite Bar 2 to digest over a cocktail. Since Favorite Bar 2 is primarily a live music spot, a really good jazz band was playing. Unfortunately, they were a little loud, so after a couple of songs Ann Marie and I beat it out of there.

Call us old, but sometimes we like to to able to hear ourselves think.

Not quite ready to call it a night, however, we swung by the original Favorite Bar to giggle over one more drink. After I cleverly (okay, meanly) observed that some Neanderthal-type guy was chewing his gum like a moron, we dissolved into junior high school hysterics.

Sometimes immaturity is so very satisfying.

And I do believe that guy was oblivious to what I had said about him. At least I hope so. If not, he certainly has permission to say any mean thing he would like about decidedly not-perfect me. What's good for the goose, after all. Apparently we were not the only ones enjoying a night out, though, because Favorite Bar soon became far too crowded for our taste, and we left. No wonder I prefer going out during the week.

Tonight after work I intend to clean my apartment and bust out the holiday decorations. I'm also going to start on the Sassy holiday card list. Every year I send out about 100 or so bits of happiness via the U.S. postal service. It's a habit that has gotten me scolded by one friend for wasting paper and called obnoxious by San Francisco's District Attorney in 2004 when she learned that I had written and mailed all 100 holiday cards by December 5th that year.

That's right. I am that big a geek.

Turkey Day Post Mortem

I hope you had an excellent Thanksgiving and that your tryptophan hangover isn't too bad this morning. I had a wonderful day, myself. Here are some highlights:

Playing games and coloring with my 9-year old cousin (well, technically my first cousin, once removed), Anna. We also watched Aladdin, which is one of my very favorite Disney features. That Anna is one fabulous hostess. We're going to have to figure out a time for her to visit me in the City; we'd take San Francisco by storm.

Playing Go-Go's songs on Anna's guitar. I'd tell you the crowd demanded Go-Go's selections, but honestly, "Our Lips Are Sealed" and "We Got the Beat" are the only songs I remember how to play. Especially since "We Got the Beat" is basically one chord. Don, who is related to me in some way (he's my uncle David's cousin... you figure out what that makes him to me), started a tip jar for me, and I earned three whole dollars! Check me out, being a professional musician.

Eating and drinking until I was practically sick with happy satiety. All the turkey, stuffing, green beans and sweet potatoes I could eat, plus all the Moet and Chandon champagne I could drink. Can you say yummy?!

Seeing all my relatives. Being part of my family, they are, of course, crazy. But only in the best possible way. My Uncle Tom's wife, also known as my aunt, Heather had some pretty bad news, but she maintained a great attitude. And things like that just make you more fully appreciate the good things you have.

This has nothing to do with Thanksgiving, really, but another highlight was that my fake band was on television last night. I intentionally didn't tell anyone for fear that I would be horrified by the tv piece, but I taped it, and it was actually pretty funny. The best part was the two shots of Emily, Carolyn, Paul, Denise and Gina acting like enthusiastic fans. My friends are awesome.

All in all, I'd call the day a smashing success. Even Jack and his brother had fun. Any year you'd like to join the Crazy Sassy Thanksgiving Celebration, just let me know. All are always welcome. But now Thanksgiving is over. Boo. However, that means the fun now kicks into overdrive. I don't know about you, but to me... it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Yippee!!!

Over the River and Through the Woods... Plus, Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 25

I certainly have some music to be thankful for today, as Mr. Gowdy burned his vinyl copy of the Bangles self-titled EP onto cd for me this week. I always say the Bangles are one of my favorite bands, but truthfully, I don't like any of their hit records. Well, actually, I do like their cover of Simon and Garfunkel's "Hazy Shade of Winter," and that was a hit in 1987. I also suppose "Manic Monday" is tolerable, but I would never choose to listen to that song. "Walk Like an Egyptian" is an absolute embarrassment, though, and you don't want to get me started on the hell that is that "Eternal Flame" song.

However, I am crazy for the Bangles early tunes. Their major label debut album, All Over the Place, is 60's-flavored pop music genius. It features the singles "Hero Takes a Fall" and "Going Down to Liverpool," as well as a host of excellent album tracks like "Live," "More Than Meets the Eye," "Tell Me" and my personal favorite, "James."

And then, there is the 5 song EP released on Faulty Products/I.R.S. Records in 1982 when Annette Zilinskas was still the band's bass player.

I have loved this record for 24 years, and it's a shame that more people aren't familiar with it. But sadly, it's no longer commercially available, so I am beyond happy that I now own a copy. (I used to have it on cassette, but I have no idea what happened to that tape). I have been listening to this cd over and over again since getting my hot little hands on it yesterday afternoon. My favorite songs are "The Real World" and "I'm In Line," but all five tracks are gems. If you like the Bangles at all, you should find a way to give this record a listen and hear what the group sounded like before fame and high falutin' record producers got hold of them.

By the way, the Bangles released an album in 2003, and that one was pretty good, too. But it doesn't hold a candle to the Faulty Products 5-song collection. Whatever my feelings on their hit singles, the Bangles remain one of my favorite bands.

Music is not the only thing I have to be thankful for today, but I am on a Bangle-induced high right now. However, I love Thanksgiving for a bunch of reasons. First of all, it's a holiday organized around eating! That's my kind of day. Also, it's the "official" beginning of the holiday season. And, call me cheesy, but I actually do take a minute every Thanksgiving to reflect on all the good things in my life.

And every year I come to the same conclusion: I am a really lucky person.

To celebrate love, happiness and charmed lives, I am going over the river and through the woods... also known as down the Peninsula... to my Aunt Mary and Uncle David's place for a Sassy family Thanksgiving. Fabulous Patti will be there, of course, along with various other uncles and cousins. Even my friend Jack and his brother will be joining us. These are sassy good times, my friends.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Who Says They Don't Like Mondays?

This has been the greatest day ever. It has featured out of control egos, secret meetings and a serious temper tantrum. I'm not going to go into detail, but I assure you I am not making any of this up. And I'm not even talking about the cancellation of the O.J. interview and book or Kramer's racist rant. Those were just icing on the cake.

It's a glorious day when real life not only imitates but outdoes soap operas.

Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 24

"The English Beat" at Mezzanine

I put "The English Beat" in quotation marks because the band is now just lead singer Dave Wakeling with some session musicians. But this is still some of my all-time favorite music, regardless who is playing drums, bass or keyboard.

Okay, I do miss Ranking Roger, but sometimes in life we have to do without.

I've seen Dave Wakeling about seven times over the last five years, and at this point, I think he's given up the idea of writing any new songs. Or if he has written new material, he doesn't bother to play it. The set consists of English Beat gems, including deep-cut album tracks, and three or four General Public songs. Most of the songs are from the Beat's first album, but this time around Dave and the boys also played "Ackee 1-2-3," which I loved! "All Out To Get You," "Jeanette" and "Sugar and Stress" would have been nice, too, but maybe those numbers will pop up in the next show.

Experience has taught me that the best place to be during a Dave Wakeling show is right at the very front. In part that's because the last two times I saw him, he was performing at the very tiny Red Devil Lounge. It was sadistically crowded both times, making the front the only place to get any air. Additionally, there is always a group of forty-year old former frat boys who think they can still dance like it's 1981, and they decide to slam. You can only avoid that in the very front or further in the back.

So I opt for the front where I can dance and sing with abandon and pretend Dave and the boys are playing the songs just for me. And that's where I took in the tunes on Thursday night, alongside Fabulous Patti and Carla, my English Beat friend. Even though Carla and I work in same industry, we didn't know each other until we met and bonded at a Dave show last year. We reconnected at this performance.

Mezzanine is larger and much nicer than the Red Devil Lounge, and as a consequence was not as crowded, but it still got pretty hot during the show. I must have been rather sweaty because late in the evening, the bass player, in a completely unsolicited gesture, offered me a towel. So either he thought I was a mess, or he was hitting on me. Since he made an effort to shake my hand and call me sweetheart at the end, I think he may have been hitting on me. Too bad for him I have no interest in being a groupie.

Especially since I am now a rock star in my own right.

That's right, I'm still basking in the glory of my fake band's performance on Tuesday night. Be warned, whether I can really sing or not, I may milk this for months to come. Not to mention that the fake band may play again. One night at Ashkenaz, and six rock stars (in our own minds) have been born....

Thank you, Berkeley!

Once upon a time... let's call it late July.... a sassy-haired girl went to the East Coast on holiday to visit friends and pay homage to her beloved alma mater (see link on the left). One day, while jogging along Jamaica Pond in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts, and listening to Matthew Sweet and Susannah Hoffs' version of "Different Drum" on her iPod, the girl realized something. That pop ditty written by Michael Nesmith and originally made famous in 1967 by Linda Ronstadt and the Stone Poneys would be an excellent karaoke song. While hardly singer, our sassy heroine has been known to hold her own behind a karaoke microphone, and she imagined herself belting out that number in front of friends and admirers.

Little did the girl know, her imagination would turn to reality... only better. Just a few weeks after her return home, a couple of her co-workers invited her to join a band they were putting together for a work project. She immediately accepted, and the band began rehearsing a playlist that included "Different Drum," Tom Petty's "I Won't Back Down," the Pretenders' "Back on the Chain Gang," Wilson Pickett's "Midnight Hour," Green Day's "When I Come Around" and an original tune written by the instigator of the project. They were working with an enthusiastic, young music coach, and their goal was a live performance in Berkeley on Tuesday, November 14th....

It was epic. A night to remember.

In a blaze of glory last night, my fake band showed the crowd that we were likely both the poorest excuses for musicians and the greatest rock and roll hams ever to take the stage at Ashkenaz. At risk of sounding arrogant, I will say that our performance was probably the best of all the bands on the bill, but that's because we know we're not very good... So we just acted like the rock stars that deep down we know we are. We also packed the house with a ton of our friends and co-workers, making for a very friendly room.

I sang off-key at times, but I also hit some really solid, pitch-perfect notes, too. My friend Katie pointed out that my sassy rocker chick moves were slightly reminiscent of Belinda Carlisle, so I guess all those years of watching Go-Go's videos and the 10+ times I've seen them in concert have been good for something. Besides, even after 30 years of performing, Belinda can't sing either, and that has never stopped her.

I now officially want to be a rock star.

Don't worry, neither I nor any of my fellow fake band members will be quitting our day jobs, but this has been more fun than anything I've done in a long time. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself now that we don't have rehearsal every week, and I won't be spending time doing vocal exercises that barely seemed to help.

I highly recommend the fake band experience to anyone and everyone. Since Blogger is once again not allowing me to post pictures, you can find a photo gallery of our performance here.

Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol. 23

The Beautiful South at the Fillmore

Never has there been more apt a post title on this space. I was in a positively terrible mood on Friday night. Call it hormones because nothing significantly bad happened to me, but I fell into such a downward spiral that I was literally in tears by 9 p.m. when I met Ann Marie at her apartment. I would have stayed home and wallowed, but I'd waited for more than six years for the Beautiful South to come back to San Francisco, and there was no way I was going to miss them.

Now, to Ann Marie's credit, her wit, charm and all around fabulousness began the process of pulling me out of my funk. She had me laughing within 20 seconds of seeing her. I don't mean to brag, but my friends are the most wonderful people in the world.

The Beautiful South then took Ann Marie's lead and handily finished the job. Just as it happened six years ago, we met once again under the chandeliers of the Fillmore, and they serenaded me from misery into bliss. In the 17 years they've been together, the Beautiful South have produced about 600 albums, seven of which I own. But I am really most familiar with the their first three records, so I figured I'd be a little lost in the midst of their prodigious repertoire.

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Perhaps most of their fans are more familiar with their earlier tunes, because they played virtually all of my favorite songs. From the dry sarcasm of "Song For Whoever" to the irreverence of "A Little Time" to the dark humor of "Woman in the Wall," there was plenty to sing along with. Vocalist Paul Heaton chatted with the audience, consulted a notebook on a music stand for help with the lyrics and danced with a cheerful abandon that made me yearn just a bit for the Housemartins. (I never got a chance to see them live.) Also, because San Francisco is the world's tiniest town, Ann Marie and I ran into my friends Tracy and John. Tracy is seven months pregnant, but that didn't keep her away from the show. Talk about a rock star.

All in all, it was a fantastic evening, and when they played "You Keep It All In," I felt like I was in heaven. Thank you, Beautiful South, your music really does make me happy.

By and large, my good mood has stayed intact... well, sort of, anyway. But I'm happy today, and I figure some lyrics from the Beautiful South ditty "Don't Marry Her" to be a little bit appropriate: And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay....

P.S. A complete and total aside, do you know what's really, really fun? Scarfing down hot pizza slices with Helen at Favorite Bar at 11:30 on a Saturday night with no regard for the amateur weekend mating crowd who are looking each other up and down all around you. Giggling to the 4th grade humor of the phrase "the itchy eye" with Liz and Doug after the pizza is gone is a pretty good time, too.

The Most Beautiful Girls and A Most Disturbing Dream

My friend Stephanie is a charter member and the president of the Most Beautiful Girls in the World Club. The club's rich and storied history began back in the day when it was formed by Stephanie and a friend of hers. The other founder relinquished her membership when she and Stephanie drifted apart, but I'd like to believe she is heading up a satellite chapter somewhere.

Well, yesterday Stephanie invited me to join.

Forget the Junior League, the Daughters of the American Revolution, the Guardsmen or the Hair Club for Men, this is a truly top drawer organization. Where else can members showcase their poise, talent, brilliance and beauty inside and out? Not to mention driving boys crazy. Needless, to say, I graciously accepted the invitation.

Personally, I believe I will make a very good member.

I began this post with that egotistical bit of whimsy so I could ease you in before I unleashed the tale of my rather disturbing dream. A co-worker of mine recently wrote on her blog about how well she analyzes dreams, but I don't think I'll be asking her to interpret this one. Last night, or rather early this morning, I dreamt about... wait for it.... incontinence! More specifically, I had an incontinent housemate who seemed oblivious to his condition. Plus, the incontinence was contagious. Thankfully, I managed to skirt the ailment, but only barely. And all this played out with the English Beat's Special Beat Service album serving as the soundtrack. I'd like to believe the Beat became part of my hallucination because I'm going to see Dave Wakeling next week and not because their music subconsciously reminds me of bodily functions.

Ick, all the way around.

At least I have all day to shake the dream off, and then tonight Ann Marie and I are going to see the Beautiful South at the Fillmore. I have only seen them twice and the last time was over six years ago. So yippee!!!

Six Days and Counting

Yes, Virgina, my fake band really is going to perform. In less than a week we will take the stage for our debut (and likely final) concert. At this point, I have let go of any notion that I will sing really well. My plan is just to stay on key to the best of my ability and project a ton of rock star attitude. I did spend almost ten years as an actor, so I am confident that I can act like a singer. And I certainly can act like a rock star; I do that in my imagination all the time.

I have invited a ton of my friends to come see us, but I left any real musicians I know off the guest list. That would be just a little too embarrassing. Regardless of who is there, I do believe this will be a night to remember. We have been having such a good time in rehearsals that the show should be a blast. Plus, the other guy who sings not only has a great voice but is a total ham, which should make for fabulous entertainment. So I believe everyone will have fun, even if we suck. Especially if we suck, probably.

However, to have any hope of singing on key, I have to commit myself to practice, which is what will consume my free time over the next few days. This is a lot off effort for six short songs, only two of which feature me on lead vocals. It's a good thing it is so much fun.

To change gears just a bit... You may have heard there was a little election last night. Well, in case you missed it, here is my review.
The House of Representatives: We knew this was coming, but ha, ha, ha, ha!
The Senate, too!: Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Former California Congressman Richard Pombo: HA, HA, HA, HA!!!!
The Defeat of California State Proposition 85: Thank F-ing GOD.
Arnie is Re-elected Governor of California: It's shameful for yet a second time, but Phil Angelides ran an anemic campaign.

Cute Dresses and Overused Lines

I have a problem.

Apparently I have lost my ability to stay within my budget. When I mentioned in my last post that I spent way too much money on that Betsy Johnson dress I bought on Thursday, I wasn't kidding. We're talking more money than I have ever spent on a dress in my life. So I promised myself that I would buy no more new clothing (except maybe a coat, as I am on the hunt for one) until the beginning of the year. I also have to forgo a spa treatment this month. While it will be a challenge, I think I'll be able to stay away from the spa until December, but apparently I have no will power when it comes to cute dresses.

I was on my way to Walgreens today, armed with an ever-so-glamorous shopping list of shampoo, hair gel, toilet paper and cleaning supplies, when a dress in the window at Belle Cose on Polk Street called my name. In fact, I'd say it shouted, cried and begged for me. Within ten minutes, purchase made. And here's the rub: since I just spent so much money on the Betsy Johnson dress, I figured the $140 price tag of the Belle Cose number to be a bargain. What kind of weird, skewed perspective have I adopted? Well, whatever my perspective, this little purchase has left me with ten dollars in my checking account until pay day. That's right. No need to worry, as I do have a savings account I can dip into, but still.

I am out of control.

Okay, perhaps I am being a little dramatic here. I am actually financially very healthy. I pay my credit card bill in full every month and carry no other debt. I have a 401K and an IRA. And I stash a decent portion of my monthly income in the aforementioned savings account. I often end up spending that stash when I overspend, but at least it earns a higher interest rate while it's there.

So I guess I am living within my means, but still. Exactly how much money do I think I have? Yes, I make enough to live comfortably in San Francisco, and I am fully aware that not everyone can say that. But those coffers are going to run dry one day if I don't pull myself together. And since men who grossly prioritize making a lot of money tend to turn me off, I shouldn't count on marrying rich.

Therefore, I probably need to watch it.

Well, at least I'll look really cute, even if I have to eat Top Ramen six nights a week because I'm spending all my money on clothes. I'm going to wear my new dress to work tomorrow.

Also today, my friend Helen broke up with the guy she has been dating for the last couple of months. I mean no disrespect to either one of them, but I have to laugh just a little because she used the "I just don't want to be in a relationship right now" line on him. Is it just me, or have you both heard and said that several times? I know the answer is yes, and that the line has been a load of crap every time. I think I've said it twice, and both times I sincerely believed I was telling the truth, even though I knew in my heart of hearts that I wasn't really interested in the fellows I was cutting loose. And both times I soon realized I had been kidding myself; it was about the guys, not me wanting to be alone.

I think I've heard it twice, as well. The first time was way back in 1993, and the guy who fed it to me met a woman through a newspaper personal ad (keep in mind, this was before the days of mainstream online dating) within a week and was married to her within nine months. That sounds like a guy who doesn't want to be in a relationship, doesn't it? I was devastated at the time, but I was only 23. Plus, with the benefit of 20-20 hindsight, I can say that the dude was kind of a loser, and today I am very, very glad he dumped me. The second time was in 2000, and I actually think that guy was telling me the truth. He continued to date casually off and on, but every woman he dated heard the same line. And it was almost five full years before he ended up in another serious relationship.

So I guess it isn't always just a line. But it's still pretty funny and probably should be exorcised from our dating patter.

They Run and Hide Their Heads

Today it rained significantly for the first time this season.

I have to admit, through the spring, summer and early fall, I tend to forget that it rains here. I grow so accustomed to the cool, but DRY weather, that the notion of rain-soaked jogs and umbrella-crowded sidewalks completely leaves my consciousness. Well, I was reminded today. The rain was pretty light, but it was somewhat consistent throughout the day.

It hardly seems fair, since it rained well into May this year. In the ten years (!) I've lived in San Francisco, I've observed an average rainy season that lasts from November until about late February. Apparently the true average San Francisco rainy season is longer than that, but my experience has shown me otherwise. As a consequence, if it rains into May, like it did this year, the next rainy season shouldn't start, in my opinion, until late January. Seems reasonable to me.

Rain or no rain, I was out and about today, and I got the cutest dress from Betsey Johnson. It cost far more than I should be spending, and I think I'm probably too old for Betsey Johnson clothing, but I don't care. It's so cute. I'll have to wear it to every fancy function I attend from now until next October to make it worth the expenditure, but that's okay. You should just expect to see it a lot if you actually know me.

After shopping and a run through the off-and-on sprinkles, we had band rehearsal. Here is what I learned tonight: I can't really sing. I can fake it okay, but as for any true vocal talent... Well, if you're planning to come see us, don't hold your expectations too high. Some of the other band members aren't necessarily the best musicians either, making for quite the cacophony in our set. Our teacher Chris tells me we're above average for his students, but part of me thinks he's just being nice.

That, or a lot of people he teaches are really, really bad.

Well, for our upcoming big concert, I'll just have to wear my new fancy dress and count on my acting and performing abilities to outweigh whatever vocal skills I do or don't have. That's my plan, and I'm sticking with it.

P.S. If you got the musical reference in the title of this post you now possess much of my respect.

Halloween At A Bar?

I am fully aware that in urban areas trick or treating often happens in business districts. Fair enough; big cities can be scary, and taking the little ones to businesses for candy is probably safer.

But would you take your kids to a bar for trick or treats?

Well, apparently a lot of parents would because I met Fabulous Patti at Favorite Bar tonight (no, we didn't wear costumes), and more than a few families stopped by for Halloween treats. The owner of Favorite Bar was even prepared with a big cauldron filled with candy. I was sitting right near the candy cauldron, so I got to help dole out the treats to the costumed tots. They were so cute. Little kids in costume are the very best part of Halloween.

But I'm still not going to get over the fact that the kids were coming into a bar for candy.

As the night wore on, the parade of trick or treaters trailed off, and the costumed, drunk adults began to pour in. The drunk adults were very boring, but Favorite Bar is always a good time. And now that Halloween is over, we are officially entering my favorite time of year. Between Thanksgiving, my birthday and Christmas, I think I am consistently happiest between November 1st and January 1st.

In theory, tonight is the beginning of my work weekend, but as it turns out, I'm going to be working tomorrow. It's not so bad; I get to do my favorite part of my job, and besides, I need the overtime. Between Hawaii, surgery, spa treatments, shopping and cocktailing, I have spent quite a lot of money this summer and fall. The more work for me, the better.

One random tidbit: Gidget was on Turner Movie Classics last night. Is it wrong that I totally love that movie? It always makes me wish that I had taken up surfing. Too bad I can barely swim.

Musical Schizophrenia

My last couple of days haven't been as musically schizophrenic as I had assumed, considering the music in question is all rock and roll. But I have immersed myself in some different varieties of rock that I wouldn't have expected to experience in such close proximity.

Our story begins with band practice on Thursday night. Oh, yes, my musical outfit's performance date is fast approaching, so the push is on for us to get good. Or at least not to stink completely. What I have learned over the last five weeks is that the more I drink, the better we sound. So I definitely would recommend that course of action to anyone planning to come see us on the 14th. Rehearsal was really fun, though, and I'm actually going to miss badly playing a bunch of songs I mostly don't like with my middle-aged co-workers. We're doing this little project through an organization that is basically a rock and roll fantasy camp. If you harbor even the tiniest rock star aspirations, you should check it out; the experience is a total hoot.

My musical soundtrack continued yesterday with Adam Pascal from the original Broadway cast of Rent. He's promoting his new music, so first he swung by my place of employment to say hello. Since Adam was kind enough to visit us, I went after work to see him perform at the Post Street Theatre. He sang a combination of his own stuff and some unique arrangements of Broadway music. Yes, it was a rock show, but honestly, just hearing his voice made everything sound like a showtune to me.

After that, I let out my inner hipster and headed from the Post Street Theatre straight to Bottom of the Hill where I met Tom for a show featuring Oranger, Engine 88, Carlos, Overwhelming Colorfast and the John Doe Band. I arrived in time see Carlos' last three songs, but Tom missed them completely. Engine 88 was next, followed by the John Doe Band. It was midnight by the time John was done, so Tom and I took off right after his set. I must be getting old because the idea of staying any later didn't even occur... let alone appeal... to me.

Tonight I'm going to some wine bar in Cow Hollow to see my friend Gabriella before she leaves town. I've known Gabree since the second grade, and on Tuesday she's moving back to L.A., where we grew up. It's unfortunate because even though I don't see her all that often, it is very comforting to have old friends nearby. What's even more unfortunate is the reason for Gabree's move: her mother is ill. So please put lots of happy thoughts into the universe for Mommy Gabree, if you wouldn't mind.

I can only imagine what kind of music will be playing at the wine bar tonight. Probably a lot of mainstream pop junk to round out the melodious flavor of my weekend.

Theatre That's Making Me Happy Today, vol. 10

Passing Strange at Berkeley Repertory Theatre

Oh. My. God. This is sooooo my new favorite play. Reminiscent of Rent (to me, anyway) this new musical created by singer/songwriter Stew is making its world premiere at Berkeley Rep before heading to New York. And boy, aren't we lucky! Meager words do not do this show justice, so I'm not even going to try to offer any kind of concise synopsis or specific critique. Other than to say that this show is flat out fantastic. And I mean fantastic.

Stew narrates this concoction of gospel, rock and roll, blues, punk (!), perfect vintage costumes, tremendous singing and acting, great lighting design and an excellent send up of European art-house cinema... All of which is punctuated with humor and some delicate poignancy. I loved it, loved it, loved it!! And I just read in the program that it was developed with help from the Jonathan Larson Foundation, among other funding, so perhaps those echoes of Rent that I sensed are not too far off.

Do yourself a huge favor and see this show. I mean it.

Plus, a very Sassy honorable mention must go to ensemble cast member Chad Goodridge (who is, unfortunately, not pictured in the photo above). Not only is he incredibly talented, but oh, my word, is he hot. I seem to say that about boys all the time on this space, but when it comes to this gentleman, all I can say is: goodness gracious.

I want to marry him.

I actually was invited to the uber-fancy cast party after the opening night performance, but I couldn't go because my ride back to the City was tired and needed to get home. Remind me of this story the next time you find me congratulating myself for being so clever as not to take on the hassle of owning a car in this town. So sadly, Chad missed out on the opportunity to meet me.

Ah, what are you gonna do? I believe dear Chad lives in New York, anyway; so I guess I may have to marry someone else.

Oh, By the Way...

The quote of the day from yesterday: "Oooh, she's a one-legged ho."

That utterance of brilliance came courtesy of the lovely and talented Angela, and it left Dory, Patti and me in stitches. It may sound like she was being mean and perhaps politically incorrect, but really all our wise sage Angela was doing was uttering the truth. I can't believe I forgot to include it in the missive I wrote last night; something that frank and funny deserves to be shared.

I Could Be Happy: Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol. 22

Do you have any idea how cool my friend/co-worker/live music buddy Tom is? Today... okay, technically yesterday since it is early Wednesday morning... he brought me a copy of the Altered Images' record 1981: Happy Birthday. I have been looking for a copy of the song "Happy Birthday" by Altered Images for months, and now I have it! Thanks, Tom. This record has put me in a good mood, which is quite a feat since I have been crabby all day.

Why crabby, you may ask. Honestly, I can offer you no good reason for my foul mood. I had to revise my little column, which was annoying, and I've had a couple of strange dreams lately, but other than that, no real reason. Isn't it wonderful to have the luxury to be crabby for no reason because you have no real problems? Survey says: yes.

So my "band" (I still can't take that term seriously when describing us) was in the newspaper today (again: technically Tuesday). That had nothing to do with me. A couple of my fellow "musicians" are rather Important People, or at least more important than me, so we got a little press. That should make for a bigger audience for our exercise in humiliation, also known as our performance, next month. Oh, yes, we're talking good times, kids.

And that's me for now. It's officially my weekend, so I think I'm going to cuddle up in my couch and watch Paper Moon yet again before going to bed. Since seeing it for the first time last month, Paper Moon has become my "new" favorite movie, and I've now watched it about 600 times. I even read Tatum O'Neal's autobiography last week. Word to the wise: don't abuse or mistreat her because she will call you out on it in print. She definitely deserved that Academy Award, though.

Later tonight I'm going to Berkeley Rep with Terry and Fabulous Patti. Then Thursday I have band practice, and on Friday I have an evening of musical schizophrenia planned. First, it's Adam Pascal of Rent fame right after work, and then I'm meeting Tom at Bottom of the Hill for John Doe and Oranger. I won't know which way is up after all that.

The Fancy Gym

When I joined my gym three years ago, I would tell all my friends with great enthusiasm: "This place is great; it's a gym that thinks it's a spa!" I was so inspired by the luxury that I went to the gym five days a week for the first year of my membership. Well, I now have grown to take my Fancy Gym for granted, and I have to admit that these days I only go twice a week (I run outside every other day).

But tonight I was reminded why I named it the"Fancy Gym" in the first place.

To celebrate an expansion two years in the making, the Fancy Gym hosted an open house of their new facilities, complete with all the Mumm Napa sparkling wine we could drink and all the delicious snacks we could eat. New yoga and pilates studios were introduced, as well as additional locker rooms and cardio equipment and a boxing studio. The Fancy Gym actually has a partner spa, and free mini spa treatments were also part of the evening. Needless to say, I indulged in a 15-minute massage. Yummy.

A gym that gives you bubbly and a massage. That's my kind of place.

In news related to exercise, or at least my exercise soundtrack, my iPod broke this week. It decided it didn't want to play any song I had downloaded from iTunes. I had no idea iPods came with editorial music selection, so I headed for the Apple store. This is the second time in 15 months I have had to exchange malfunctioning hardware. My iPod was still under warranty, but still. Shouldn't a fancy mp3 player last longer than a few months, even if I use it every day?

We also had band practice tonight. We were a little off, and some of the chords were awfully sour, but the really good news is that we dropped the song that I hate the most. Everyone say YAY!!!

Theatre That Makes Everyone Happy

Have you heard about Theatre Bay Area's Free Night of Theatre? No? Well, it's exactly what the name suggests: a night of free theatre! Actually, it's more than one night, and over 70 Bay Area theatres donated tickets that T.B.A. then gave away. Theatres that include The Magic, Berkeley Rep, TheatreWorks, American Conservatory Theatre and a whole host of small companies. All you had to do to get the free tickets was go to the TIX Booth in Union Square or log onto the Theatre Bay Area website. The latter proved to be a bit of a challenge, as the site was overrun with traffic when the tickets went on "sale."

The whole point is to encourage people who wouldn't normally go to the theatre to give it a try for free. And frankly, I think that's pretty neat.

I thought I had been shut out of the Free Night of Theatre because I got caught in the website congestion and wasn't able to submit my online order form. But then I got tickets for Travesties at the American Conservatory Theatre, and Fabulous Patti and I went last night. We had great seats, too. I had assumed A.C.T. would have just donated empties from the last two rows of the balcony, but there we were in the front of the orchestra.

Unfortunately, I didn't like the play very much. The acting was really good, and I liked the staging, but the script didn't do much for me. Yes, it's Tom Stoppard, and we're all supposed to love him because he's a genius, but I found the play to be overly wordy and too self-consciously clever. Oooh, neato, James Joyce, Valdimir Lenin and Tristan Tzara meet during the first World War and debate art and politics. A good idea, but no. But let me repeat, the production is really good and features a fabulously played scene between two of the female characters. Besides, it was free! So no complaints here.

A night of free theatre under my belt, I'm off work today and have tons to do. I have to go to the gym, run errands, work on my column, practice my singing and then meet Denise and Paul at the Roxie tonight for the Pixies movie. Then tomorrow it starts all over again with more exercise, a tour of my gym's fancy expansion and band rehearsal.

And on Friday, back to work. That moment will come all too soon....

Reminiscent of My Youth

When I was young and sprightly, my weekends looked like this: I would get pretty and meet my party partners for late nights of 20-something style revelry. These evenings always ended with a 2 a.m. scramble for a cab home. The competition was fierce, as all the other closing time merrymakers were also looking for paid rides to their beds. Well, this weekend I got a reminder of my halcyon days of cab scrambling, even though my bedtime is now several hours earlier.

Cold or no cold, I did go to Sterling's birthday party on Saturday night. That was probably a bad idea because I find myself home sick from work today, but I'm really glad I went. For one thing, it was terrific to see Sterling, especially on her birthday. But her party was also a benefit for the youth poetry organization Youth Speaks, and some of the young poets performed. They were absolutely amazing, and I mean amazing. Energized by the fun of Sterling's soiree, I decided pay Favorite Bar a visit, where I caught up with Helen, Bob, Sebastian and FB's proprietor. That's right, the owner of Favorite Bar knows me. I also consider the owner of Blondie's a friend; should I be concerned about that? Well, anyway, by 11:45 I'd had enough fun and figured I would go home while it was still a relatively decent hour. Apparently I was not the only one with that idea. Swarms of cab seekers were crowding the streets, and it took me 45 minutes to get myself a taxi. Since when is 11:45 the time everyone decides to go home?

It was 2:30 on a Sunday morning in 1997 all over again. Odd. Did we all get old at the same pace and now will be elbowing each other out of the way before midnight to catch our transportation home? I guess so.

In other news... You may have heard that there was a pretty sizeable earthquake in Hawaii yesterday morning. Well, you'll be relieved to know that Diva Mommy is just fine, although she was not happy about the major power outage that followed the quake. But otherwise, her Honolulu home is still very much paradise, and I'm still going back to visit her again in March. We'll see if I come back after my next Hawaiian sojourn.

Theatre That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 9

Far Away at the Exit Theatre

Admittedly, I'm probably a little biased about this show because my friend Valerie is in it. Valerie is one of several incredibly committed actors I know. For the decade we've been friends, she has never lost focus on her work. She occasionally has had to take other kinds of jobs to support her artistic ambitions but has consistently worked as an actor as long as I've known her.

Pretty impressive, huh?

Well, Valerie is currently featured in Just Theater's production of Far and Away. A short play of just about 45 minutes, the Caryl Churchill piece is another very clever indictment of war. All the actors were solid, especially a 7th grade girl who is probably one of the best child actors I have seen in a long time. Good stuff all the way around.

And yesterday's opening night performance had extra value for me because I got to see not only Valerie, but also her really fun boyfriend, Kevin, and our friend Chris... none of whom I spend nearly enough time with. After the show, a bunch of us went around the corner to Original Joe's, a restaurant one of the other actors in the show described as "tremendously well executed mediocrity," where Valerie brokered us use of their fancy-pants back room because our group was so large. Who knew Valerie was such a high roller?

Sadly, I couldn't stay out too late because I had to be at work at 6:00 this morning. But I'm home now and gearing up for a nap before taking a short run and then heading to Sterling's birthday party tonight in North Beach. Actually, I might skip the party because I may be getting a cold (that's Sassy Speak for "I am getting a cold but am in denial about it"), but I definitely won't skip the nap.

Sexy Tambourine

That was the review one of my "band"mates gave my percussive styling tonight. I'm not sure how I made the tambourine sexy when my focus was on the rhythm of the song, but I guess some things just come naturally. Or something like that.

The good news is that tonight's rehearsal was not nearly as horrifying as last week. I still think we kind of suck, especially me, but had we been performing tonight, I wouldn't have died from embarrassment. That's always a good sign. I did let some of my fellow rock 'n' rollers know that I hate several of the songs we're performing. Okay, I told them I hate one of the songs; I figure it's better to ease them in. They were really surprised. To that I ask: how could anyone not hate that song? Let alone the two others I hate.

It's hard being an artist.

Sadly for me, what's even harder than being an artist is going back to work after four glorious days off. That's the challenge I face tomorrow. I have a feeling it's going to be a very long Friday.

A Tiny Step Into My Past Life

I believe I have I mentioned several times on this space that I used to be an actor. For many years, I did all kinds of plays... some good, some really bad... that were performed in little black box spaces in Providence, San Francisco and Berkeley. Well, I revisited that life a bit last night by participating in a developmental reading of Foreign Women by Allston James. There were no rehearsals, and the other actors and I read from scripts, but acting skills were still necessary.

That's how I was reminded of just how very, very rusty my set of said skills are.

But it was pretty fun, nonetheless, and it was just the right amount of participation in the theatre world for me right now. We read the play, and then there was a discussion with the playwright and the audience afterward. The whole point of these kinds of developmental readings is to give the playwright feedback and a chance to hear his or her words out loud. Then, presumably, changes and re-writes will be made. On top of the fun, I got paid a whopping $25 for my time, meaning that, rusty or not, I am still a professional actor. On some level, anyway. Oh, and one of the other actors recognized me from my current job, which was strange but very flattering, especially since she was so complimentary. And I should not fail to mention that the male actor involved in this reading was super hot. I think he was all of 22, but even 22-year olds can be hot, I suppose.

Prior to the reading, I went over to Gretchen and Paul's place to meet baby Isaac. He mostly slept during my visit, but I won't take that personally. We all took a walk over to Tower Records for some discounted cd's, and I got discs by The Shins, Persephone's Bee's and the Two Gallants. Not that I am happy Tower is going out of business. Long before I'd ever heard of Amoeba, Rasputin, Tom's Tracks or In Your Ear, the California-based Tower Records chain was one of the cool music stores (Moby Disc and Canterbury Records in Pasadena were the others). In fact, when I was in high school, my family had a little Christmas tradition involving Tower Records. We'd go to my oldest sister Kathy's place in West Hollywood to visit with her and her kids on Christmas afternoon, and before we went back to Pasadena that night, we'd pay a visit to the open-on-holidays Tower on Sunset where everyone got to pick out a cd... well actually, still a vinyl album back then... as the final gift from Santa. My mother acted as Santa's conduit on that one. Keep in mind, I'm talking about a family full of musicians and music fans, so albums made for great final Santa presents.

But however sad I am that Tower has been driven to liquidation by the changes in retail music purchasing, I still enjoy a bargain. So I'm okay with relieving them of their discounted stock.

That's all from Sassyland for now. I'm going to meet Carolyn and Denise for dinner later, and perhaps we'll be able to catch up with Sheela at Amnesia afterward. I hope the city is ready for our girl-power assault. Oh, one more thing. Why did none of you tell me that Paper Moon would make me cry in the end? You really should warn a girl about that kind of thing.

My New Favorite Television Channel...

.... is Turner Classic Movies. I understand that it's not actually a new television channel. It's not even new to me, but I just recently started watching TCM with any kind of regularity. It all started one Saturday night a few weeks ago when I was killing time before whatever social engagement I had planned for the evening. I flipped through my 6,000 cable channels and landed on Peter Bogdonavich's Paper Moon, which, believe it or not, I had never seen. It took me all of about two minutes to get sucked into the 1973 classic, and I actually regretted having to leave the film to go out.

The channel showing Paper Moon that night was Turner Classic Movies.

Since that fateful Saturday, I have tuned in TCM for A Night to Remember (the good movie about the Titanic), as well as bits and pieces of many of my favorite old movies, like Meet Me in St. Louis. And earlier today, I taped Paper Moon in its entirety and am watching it right now. I am not a huge Ted Turner fan, but this movie channel might be the best thing he's done in his career.

Of course, the last thing I need in my life is more television. I don't even regularly watch very many programs because I often am not home, especially during television's prime time. Add to that the fact that, as I have mentioned before, I am lazy about seeing movies in the theatre. So I generally have to tape what programs I do watch (these days that would be Gilmore Girls, My Name Is Earl, Studio 60 and the occasional episode of ER) along with movies from HBO or Starz, and then I have to play catch up. As a consequence, I often find myself with several backlogged hours of television to watch. Luckily, Comedy Central runs episodes of my other favorite program, The Daily Show, several times a day, so I don't tape that one. But the addition of Turner Movie Classics to my television roster may render me constantly behind in my viewing.

I'd be a much better couch potato if I weren't so social.

I taped Paper Moon earlier because I treated myself to the spa today. It was, of course, lovely as always. My skin is so soft after my Thai coconut massage wrap that I promise you wish you were here to feel it. The spa came after I had a great conversation with my friend Schleevin. I haven't actually talked to him since I was in New York in July, so we had to catch up on all the Very Important aspects of our lives. It's always wonderful to connect with him. Oh, my goodness, have I mentioned that my friend Anne is getting married?! She is a sweetheart and soooo deserves a fabulous guy who loves her. Her lucky fiance drew the long straw, and they are on the road to matrimony. Yay!

Anyway, I'm taking a couple of days off work this week, which not only enabled my spa visit today, but also will allow me to do what I choose tomorrow. Then my regular Wednesday and Thursday "weekend" kicks in. I like my job, but nonetheless, there's nothing better than four days off in a row.

Perspective

My friend and co-worker, Ted, was in a cycling accident this morning. He's fine but nonetheless took a trip to the hospital just to make sure everything was okay. And then, completely in keeping with his personality, he came straight to work. As relieved as we all are that he's okay, that's still pretty scary. Pedestrians in this town, of which I am one, also face some dangerous conditions walking the streets. That I know from experience. But Ted's ordeal has given me a sense of perspective and reminded me of something important: live every day and enjoy it.

I had a conversation that turned into a debate with another friend of mine over cocktails at Casanova on Tuesday night. She believes that San Francisco's liberal reputation is a facade, and that underneath said facade, the city and its residents are actually conservative and very wealthy. She absolutely is entitled to her opinion, but I couldn't disagree more (and for the record, this woman lives a rather priviledged life, herself). I fully acknowledge that the cost of living in our lovely City by the Bay is outrageous, and that plenty of wealthy, materialistic and conservative people live here. Hell, while hardly rich, I currently make very decent money. But that's far from the whole story. My ten years as a San Francisco resident have shown me that liberal ideals, values and actions are alive, well and espoused by people of many different income levels in these 7 by 7 square miles of land.

I have been thinking about that debate for several days now, and Ted's experience today has further inspired me to appreciate fully all the good things my life and my home have to offer. Yesterday I stumbled onto the blog of a friend of yet another friend of mine and for various reasons offered him a list of my favorite things to be found in and around San Francisco. I now share that list with you:

1. Lots of theatre, from Best of Broadway shows to A.C.T. to Berkeley Rep across the Bay to small productions in black box spaces.
2. Local musicians and live music shows at 12 Galaxies, the Make Out Room, Cafe du Nord and Bimbo's.
3. The free jukebox at Casanova.
4. North Beach on a weekday afternoon.
5. The Golden Gate Bridge.
6. Favorite Bar 1, Favorite Bar 2 and drinking at Zeitgeist on a sunny day.
7. The Embarcadero. It's a great place to run, even when it's crowded with tourists.
8. The gorgeous spa three blocks from my apartment.
9. Good hiking, pretty beaches and wine country just to the north.
10. Fabulous shopping for music and vintage clothes in the Haight.
11. Events presented by the Commonwealth Club and City Arts and Lectures.

There are many more things about San Francisco to love, but that's what I have so far. Live every day, kids, and focus on what's good in your world.

Theatre That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 8

Mother Courage at Berkeley Repertory Theatre

Theatre is timeless, and that is certainly the case with Bertolt Brecht's Mother Courage. Written in 1939, the anti-war piece is just as relevant in today's political climate as it was in the first half of the 20th Century. As is often the case when I see a Brecht play, I chose to give in to the convoluted storyline and just let the entirety of the production wash over me. I got the point: war hurts everyone; it is part of an endless cycle; and even those who profit during wartime are destined to lose in the end.

The production values are stellar, though, and the acting superb. And because it's Brecht, there is, of course, music. My favorite cast member is Katie Huard, who portrays Mother Courage's mute daughter Kattrin with an affecting wide-eye innocence. But everyone is amazing, especially Ivonne Coll, who plays Mother Courage herself. There are also a couple of hot fellows in this show, which is always a bonus in my book.

In other entertainment, I currently am watching Walk The Line, which I never saw in the theatre and taped off cable last weekend. I'm really enjoying it, but I have just one question: exactly why does Joaquin Phoenix have an acting career? Forgive me if you like him, but... No, you know what? I'm not going to apologize. All Joaquin Phoenix does in this movie is imitate Johnny Cash, as opposed to actually acting, and his imitation isn't even that good. There, I've said it, and I'm not taking it back.

Okay, I must scoot. We have "band" rehearsal tonight, and I need to practice beforehand, lest I sing totally off-key and embarrass myself.

A Year's Salary

Remember that little surgery I had in August? You know, that teeny, tiny outpatient procedure about which I was so cavalier that I forgot to tell people about it until it was happening?

Well, I just saw the price tag: $35,216.98. And that's not including the anesthesiologist's fee of $1,710. I knew surgery would be costly, but this is positively shocking.

I have insurance, so there's no need to worry. I do have to foot some of the bill, but while I may prefer to spend my money on spa treatments, pedicures, live music, books and cocktails, my share of the expenditure amounts to a rather miniscule percentage which I can afford.

Nonetheless. $35,216.98?

That's more money than many, many people make in a year. In fact, it's more money than I made in 2004, 1999, 1998, 1997 and all four years I lived and worked on the East Coast. Granted, I was working part time for several of the aforementioned years, but still. This was not some sort of life-saving procedure, either. Honestly, I could have opted not to have it. Perhaps the fact that I ended up spending a night in the hospital inflated the cost, but frankly, that was the recovery nurse's idea. It had nothing to do with me or my insurance company. And speaking of that, I bet the AFTRA Health Fund is really pleased with me and my surgery-having ways right about now.

Now I fully understand what people are talking about when they lament the astronomical cost of health care in this country.

Despite the surgical sticker shock, life and fabulous socializing go on. I met The Other Tom at Favorite Bar 2 on Saturday night where we indulged in a couple of their signature drinks. We then took off for the Orbit Room to meet Irina, Vanessa and Roland. Have you ever been to the Orbit Room? You could simply order a normal drink there, or, depending on who is behind the bar, you could find yourself sipping a delightful concoction featuring nectarine chunks, whole raspberries, muddled strawberries, cucumber slices, ginger, and cardamom. The drinks there are like salad in a glass. Well, salad in a glass with vodka. You just have to trust Alberta or Ron to create something wonderful for you without asking questions.

In keeping with the theme of my weekend, I managed to stay out much later than is my norm on Saturday night, and I didn't get as much sleep on Sunday as I had anticipated. Then I was called into work a couple of hours early this morning after working until 1 a.m. last night. So tonight I am extremely tired and ready for my pajamas. But life is good. I'm good about remembering that, in general, but with all the wretched things going on in the world right now (who goes into a grammar school and shoots innocent little children execution-style?), I am even more aware that I am one lucky girl.

The sassy life is a good life.

Closing Time Comes Quickly at the Hemlock Tavern

That's certainly what Carolyn and I learned last night. We had gone to the Hemlock Tavern with Carolyn's fiance, Dima, and my live music buddy, Tom, to see Tippy Canoe and the Paddlemen. I have extolled the virtues of Tippy and her Paddlemen on this space before, but I can't say enough good things. They are absolutely my new favorite local band, and you should do yourself a favor and see them as soon as possible. Tippy's music is proof that combining pop hooks with country elements and adding a ukulele yields excellent results.

Tippy was second on the bill, and the whole show started about an hour late. So Dima actually didn't see any of it, as he was tired after a long work week and went home at about 10:30. Tom saw the first band, The Jolenes, but had to leave to pick up his girlfriend from work before Tippy's set was done. Carolyn and I went the distance, though. We bought CD's from Tippy after her performance (only $5, kids) and had a drink with her, as well. Carolyn and I had no interest in the headliner, however, so we settled into seats at the window and engaged in our brand of droll and compelling conversation over Newcastle and Stella.

Before we knew it, we heard these startling words: "Last call!"

A glance at my cell phone confirmed that it had, in fact, become 1:30 in the morning. Don't ask me how, given I have long passed the closing time partier stage of my social life. So we scooted out to the growing taxi queue on Polk Street and headed to our respective homes. And I just accepted that I wouldn't be getting much sleep. I could have captured a few more winks this morning, but because I am a certifiable freakshow, I had to get up early and go running before heading into work. At least I'm a social freakshow with a well conditioned cardiovascular system.

Tonight I should rest, but instead I'm going to meet The Other Tom for a night out. Emily, Fabulous Patti and her gentleman friend, Tim, all may catch up with us. I think I'm going to suggest Favorite Bar 2.

Tomorrow I sleep.

The Cutest Thing

My friend Luke told me the cutest thing ever tonight. It's not a huge deal, but basically he said that he is at least conscious of dropping some of his really self-destructive habits because about nine months ago I looked him straight in the eye and told him that I care about him and think he should take better care of himself. I am not in the habit of saving of people and have no interest of getting into said habit, but still, that is too cute. Whether Luke actually changes his behavior or not, I feel a little humbled by the idea that my concern at least got him to consider it.

I'd say that's pretty good for a girl who is afraid of intimacy and has no interest in saving people.

In other Sassy happenings, the first rehearsal of my music project went very well tonight. I am one of two singers in a band. That's right, me in a band. We are, thankfully, being guided by a music teacher, and for the record, said teacher, Chris, is kind of hot, even though I think he's about 100 years younger than me. He's very supportive, enthusiastic and smiley, though, and he does an excellent job of convincing our band that we don't suck. By the way, did I mention he's kind of hot? We actually will be performing in a couple of months, but I need a few more rehearsals before I decide if I will tell you where or when.

Sucker!

That is soooo what I am. This morning I went with Helen to an invitation-only preview of San Francisco's new Bloomingdales, which is set to open tomorrow, along with the expansion of the Westfield Shopping Center. After waiting in a line that moved quickly but stretched around the block, we entered the pristine and shiny new space. Salespeople were readily available, displays had yet to be mussed and tester lipstick sported nary a smudge.

At the end of the day, though, it is still just a department store. So I vowed only to look. I was not going to be sucked into making a purchase just because a big mall is opening tomorrow. Please, I'm way too strong to fall for that sort of amateur trickery.

Famous last words.

First, I saw the pashminas. Luckily, none of them really grabbed me, so I walked away. But when we got to the third (or was it the fourth?) floor, I was lured in by the cute mod-style coats. I actually tried on a $525 Diane Von Furstenberg number but was able to resist. Barely. This, after they had removed it from the mannequin for me. There was also an adorable black and white Tibby coat, but I was too late; someone else bought the last one in the store (also stripped off a mannequin) before I could pounce. However, before you conclude that my will power and poor fortune saved my credit card balance, I did see a darling BCBG Max Azria dress that I tried on "just for fun." They had only one in my size, and it fit perfectly. Who cares that I just bought a new dress for Matt's wedding; Bloomingdales only had one of these dresses in my size on their preview day, and I had found it!

The dress is now hanging in my closet, and Visa is very happy that I am one of their customers. And for the record, I am now on a mission: a cute mod coat will be mine before the season is done.

In other random news...

Do you have friends with whom you just laugh until your side aches? For me, one of those friends is Ann Marie. She and I are like junior high school girls without all the catty back-stabbing. We got together at Favorite Bar last night, and the giggle fits kicked in immediately. Some of the words that crack us up: yeti, thing, stinky, tambourine. Out of context this list probably seems pretty lame, but believe me, it is actually incredibly funny.

While I was at the gym today, I heard a Celine Dion song that once had been a staple at a former job of mine. In hindsight, I have no idea how I lived through all those months. The gym was redeemed a few minutes later when The English Beat's "Twist and Crawl" poured out of their sound system. For that job, however, there was no redemption. Getting let go from that position was one of the best things that ever happened to me, and my current workplace is 100% Celine-free. Thank goodness.

I was supposed to go to a wine tasting event with Emily tonight, but we both flaked. She has to go out of town in the morning, and frankly, all my shopping today wore me out. But tomorrow I am meeting Fabulous Patti and her new gentleman friend at Zeitgeist before embarking on day one of a... um... music project I'm doing with some co-workers of mine. More details on the music project once I assess just how embarrassing it will be for us. Then on Friday I'm going with Tom, Carolyn and maybe Dima to see Tippy Canoe and the Paddlemen. Yay!!! And on Saturday I see my other friend Tom, who has proven very elusive for the past few months. I'd say it was a good call to stay in tonight and rest up in anticipation of all that.

Where the Literati Congregate

Lest you think Favorite Bar is frequented by uncultured heathens, I will share with you this little anecdote from Friday night. With Helen and Bob on my left, I was delicately perched on my barstool wondering if I could possibly have ordered a sweeter or girlier drink than the Stoli blueberry cosmopolitan sitting before me. Suddenly a random man to my right broke away from his companions and asked me a question.

Random Man: Excuse me, do you know who wrote Paradise Lost?
Me, without batting an eye: John Milton.
Random Man: Of course, John Milton! Thanks a lot!

He then turned back to his friends to engage in what I could only assume was a witty and spirited deconstruction of the epic poem.

Okay, in truth I have no idea what Random Man and his friends talked about next. A little while later I jumped into a conversation with them about The Stone Poney's "Different Drum." When I offered that Michael Nesmith had written that 1967 pop ditty, I was treated to a horrific rendition of "Valleri" by The Monkees, courtesy of the guy who had asked me about John Milton. After they left, I found myself chatting about baseball with an overly-tatooed fellow who had appropriated the barstool next to mine. While I admit baseball and music are far more likely to be topics of conversation between myself and strangers at Favorite Bar, the Random Man really did ask me about Paradise Lost. How often does 17th Century literature come up during weekend bar chatter? I'd say the exchange was evidence that Favorite Bar clearly attracts a top drawer crowd. Well, except for the dysfunctional drunk regulars.

In other news, after work last night I went to a fundraiser thrown by my friends in AtmosTheatre to support their upcoming production of two John Patrick Shanley plays. It was definitely my kind of fundraiser, complete with snacks, cocktails and free massages. Plus, I got a chance to spend a little time with my friend Victor, whom I haven't seen since my birthday last year. Yippee!

Also, something really big and really good happened last week. On Thursday Gretchen and Paul had their baby! Well, Gretchen had the baby, but Paul helped make him. I've yet to meet him, but based on the photo I saw today, I can tell you that little Isaac Malcolm is awfully cute. Gretchen told me stories which very much encourage my belief that childbirth is an evil joke played upon women, but I still think it's wonderful that she and Paul created this new little person.

And finally, today is my brother Michael's birthday. He's 40. My brother Peter turns 41 tomorrow. Before you ask, I'll just say that yes, being one year apart and having birthdays so close together did cause a little brotherly drama between the two of them growing up. But they are (supposedly) actual adults now, and I am fast closing in on 37. My goodness, how did we all get so old?

Just Because We're Cute

That's honestly the only reason for this post. Pictured here are Bob, me, Emily and Helen enjoying ourselves at Emily's party last weekend. I think it's a nice photo to share.

Other than that, I haven't anything new to report. It is a beautiful day; I really should get out of my apartment and enjoy it. I'm meeting my friend Katie at Favorite Bar 2 tonight. Perhaps I can leave a little early to enjoy the sunset and maybe indulge in some retail therapy before catching up with her. After my vacation I have no money, but when has that stopped the retail therapy before?

I Should Be At The Theatre

The Berkeley Repertory Theatre, to be specific.

Instead I am at home this evening after spending the day with the beverage to the right. As it turns out, the lead actress in Mother Courage sprained her ankle, and while we mean no disrespect to the understudy, Terry and I opted to see the show another night (media passes made that decision kind of easy). But I had a very fun day, regardless.

After a lovely workout at the gym, I met Denise at Zuni Cafe for a late lunch. The lunch was good, but dessert was better: caramel pot au creme. How decadent, no? Then we walked to Zeitgeist for Anchor Steam under the afternoon sun. Zeitgeist was one of my mainstays when I was unemployed and working part time. Nothing feels more deliciously delinquent than planting yourself at a picnic table in Zeitgeist's beer patio at noon on a weekday. It certainly breaks up the monotony of job hunting. While I may now be gainfully employed, my work schedule allows for a little "delinquent" behavior every now and then. After Zeitgeist, we hit the Financial District and met the aforementioned Terry at Grumpy's for snacks, more drinks and gossip.

All in all, an excellent day off work. And Terry and I intend to catch Mother Courage in a couple of weeks.

Here's To Good Friends

If you were cognizant and watching television in the 70's and early 80's, you may remember the title of this post as the beginning of a commercial jingle for Lowenbrau beer. However, this post is not an ode to that beverage but an ode to actual friends of mine.

But tonight is kind of special. First of all, today is Wendell's birthday! Wendell is a friend of mine from Brown, and he turned 39 today. He is also one of the smartest people I have ever known. Certainly, everyone... and I mean everyone... I knew for the first 22 years of my life was smart, but Wendell is one of the most intuitively intelligent people I have ever encountered. And on top of his intelligence and good education, he has always followed his heart and just done what he wanted to do with his life. Sometimes that looked like he had no ambition, but I think he has been happy with his choices, overall. I have tremendous respect for really intelligent, well educated people who don't feel an obligation to "live up" to their pedigree by taking some job they don't enjoy just because it makes a ton of money and/or looks good on the surface. Truly tremendous respect.

So I called and emailed Wendell today to wish him well and let him know how very excited I am for his special day. He lives in Maine, and I haven't seen or talked to him in more than five years. It was well past time for us to reconnect.

I also met my friend Debbie at Favorite Bar 2 tonight. Debbie is a Very Important Person. She works for San Francisco's District Attorney. If you're not familiar with our D.A., Kamala Harris, I'll just tell you: she is amazing. And thanks to Debbie, I am, myself, acquainted with Madame District Attorney, as well. It's good to know Very Important People. Anyway, Debbie and I made a little pact tonight. She surfs in her spare time and has pledged to take me to Bolinas because I have never been there. In return, I have promised to take her to a ton of theatre and live music performances because she says she doesn't get enough arts and culture in her life. Now, being a Very Important Person renders Debbie very busy, so I'm not sure when we'll accomplish all these goals. But our intentions are good.

And tonight Favorite Bar 2 featured live jazz and poetry. Debbie had to leave at 9:15 to drive her boyfriend to the airport, and I didn't stay too long after the jazz musicians were done. But the couple of poets I saw were much better than the FB2 comedians. That I can say for certain.

Big Star, Small Party... A Typical Sassy Weekend

You want to do something fun? Go to the Jackpine Social Club's next tribute show. In May they paid tribute to the Replacements; this time around it was Big Star. What a totally fun Friday night: an entire evening of musicians playing Big Star tunes at 12 Galaxies. Well, except for the guys who played "Alex Chilton" by the Replacements, but all things considered, I'd say that was a very reasonable exception. Sadly, I missed Pat Johnson's mini set because I had to work late, but what can you do about that? I met Tom there, and Sheela soon joined us. Tom was a very good sport about the fact that Sheela and I were chatty Cathys during some of the music because we hadn't seen each other in a few months. But we did pay attention. Of course.

I had a little too much Newcastle while enjoying all that Big Star, so I was a bit tired... okay, hungover... at work on Saturday.

On Saturday night, Emily had a party to celebrate her first year of living in San Francisco. A sophisticated affair, the soiree drew a relatively small crowd to Emily's SOMA condominium, but the quality was certainly there. Helen, Super Bobby and I joined the fun around 10, and the champagne was already flowing. The evening was also a celebration of Emily's boyfriend's birthday, so we indulged in decadent German chocolate cake, too. Yum.

It's really nice to live some place that isn't boring.

Paradise Lost. Now, Back to Reality

At 8:00 this morning I was on Waikiki Beach taking a dip in the very warm Pacific Ocean.

Now, I am back here.

Not that here, also known as San Francisco, is a bad place. Beautiful bridges, Wine Country to the north and vibrant theatre and music scenes are just some of what San Francisco has to offer. But sorry kids, the fog-ridden City by the Bay is no Hawaii. My all-too-short vacation ended before I knew it. Now I understand why my friends looked at me like I had three heads when I said I was going to Honolulu for only four days. But what did I know? I only have so much vacation time, and because of my weird work schedule I had to take a vacation day to go to Matt's wedding last Saturday. Yeah, I know: blah, blah, blah. I won't be making such excuses next time; I'll simply be spending more time in the Aloha State.

My tropical adventures continued nicely after we last spoke. I went back to Duke's Canoe Club with Diva Mommy on Tuesday evening. It was much nicer than it had been on Sunday: mellower with a significantly lower frat boy quotient. While we were there, I took an illicit soak in the neighboring hotel's Jacuzzi spa. I'm such a rebel. On Wednesday, Fabulous Patti, Diva Mommy and I piled into the car and drove up to the North Shore. Once there, we went to Waimea Beach and grabbed a sunset dinner at Jameson's By the Sea in Haleiwa. I will say that venturing to the North Shore meant a lot of time in the car, which maybe wasn't the best idea during such a short trip. The fact that we got a little lost on the way didn't help much. But regardless, it was all nothing short of delightful. I already miss my warm morning jogs dodging the (other) tourists along Kalakaua Avenue. It was just like jogging through Fisherman's Wharf, only with much better weather.

But given that I had to come back, at least I have lots of fun planned. As always. Sheela and I are going to Bruno's, and then I think we'll meet Tom at the Big Star tribute show. Emily is having a party this weekend, and next week, I believe I will be seeing my elusive friend Debbie for the first time in almost a year. And there's also Berkeley Rep next week, too.

That's all well and fine, but at this moment, all I'm looking forward to is my next Hawaii trip. Currently I'm thinking March, 2007. Who's in?

Found in Waikiki

My mother is a brilliant woman: two years ago she moved to Hawaii. And this week I am visiting her. I don't have much time, as I am using the world's most expensive public computer, but here are some highlights of my visit with Diva Mommy.

1. It took all of 24 hours for some 600-year old man to hit on me.
2. The W Hotel in Waikiki is a wonderful place. I wish I was rich so I could live there.
3. Waikiki is very touristy, but Diva Mommy lives only a couple of miles away, so it is also a very convenient place to stay. It does remind me of a cross between Disneyland and Las Vegas, however.
4. Regardless of the touristy nature, Waikiki Beach is lovely. And the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Ohau is even lovelier. I could live in that water.
5. We went to the Pali Lookout today, where a bunch of soldiers got thrown off the side about a million years ago. I'm glad that wasn't me.
6. Diva Mommy took my sister, Fabulous Patti, and me to this bar called Duke's Canoe Club. It's slightly horrifying; much like a big frat party. But the fact that former jazz singer and music afficionado Diva Mommy goes there regularly to people watch and listen to the music is so hysterical that I have forgiven the frat party atmosphere.
7. Much like my experience in New England, I am finding running in 85 degree humidity to be a slight challenge. But I've done it every morning, anyway. Between how much I have been eating and my daily appearance in a bathing suit, I have to keep up my exercise.

Okay, I'm off to the beach. But I have just one question for you before I go: do I have to come home?

The Day Matt Got Married

In all my talk over the last few posts about dresses and shoes for Matt's wedding, I failed to mention one thing: Matt and I used to date.

Now, we dated very briefly, and it was many years ago, but at the time I fell for him like a ton of bricks. Sadly for me, he fell for me like he stumbled on uneven pavement and quickly regained his balance. It didn't help matters that the men I dated in the subsequent months were all... let's say, inappropriate. For me, anyway.

First there was Edgar. I went on a date with him just as things between Matt and me started going south. Nice enough guy, but we had absolutely nothing to talk about over dinner. I mean nothing. It was likely the longest meal of my life. After said long meal, we went to his very nice condo in South Beach. Where he had Star Wars posters on the walls. Yes, I know that men of my generation live by those movies, but really, if you're an adult, you should take the posters off your walls. And if you want to date me, in particular, you should not let your adolescent obsession with George Lucas see the light of day in any way.

Then there was Nathan. I met him in a poetry group I was briefly involved with, and his poetry was so deliciously bad, I developed an instant attraction to him. Sadly, his personality matched his verse. On our one and only date, he asked me in the middle if I minded if he "smoked a little weed." Enough said (although honestly, I could go on).

After Nathan came Tim. He was nice enough and really cute, too. But he was kind of a homophobe, which I regard as, at best, a rookie move here in San Francisco. Not to mention the fact that he was actually involved with another woman when he and I went out, and she got pregnant soon after. Fair enough; let her keep him.

And finally that brings us to Larry, who on paper was perfect for me in every way. Cute, smart, interested in writing and theatre. But in reality I felt no chemistry. Zero. And I mean no disrespect, but he was a pretty bad kisser, too. But that was probably just a result of the lack of chemistry. He could tell I wasn't into him, too, which made things easier for me but probably worse for him.

All of this is to say, it took me a while to get over Matt. But I did, and we stayed friends, and over the years we would often talk about meeting people we weren't very excited about. Generally that's not a huge problem for me because, as evidenced in the above anecdote, guys can tell when I'm not really into them and, as a consequence, stop calling. But Matt found himself in a series of short, dead-end relationships with women for whom he could only summon lukewarm feelings. So I was honestly thrilled when he met his now-wife, Kristen, two years ago. It's a cute story, too; one that involves a winery, her 30th birthday party and an add Matt later placed on Craigslist's Missed Connections. In fact, it's so cute, it ended up in a recent issue of People Magazine.

I will say, though, I was feeling a little trepidation around this wedding since I am nowhere near marriage yet. And it's just a little weird to see someone you used to make out with taking such a step, even many years later.

But as it turns out, it was positively lovely to see them get married. The ceremony was short, the food was delicious and there was plenty of wine. Plenty. Plus, Kristen did not subject all us single girls to that humiliating bouquet toss. I absolutely love her for that.

The wedding over, I'm now off to Hawaii to visit my mom. Matt and Kristen may have gotten married, but it looks like I'm getting a honeymoon-style vacation.

Carrie Bradshaw Would Be Horrified....

... but personally, I love a bargain.

With Matt's wedding less than 48 hours away, I decided I need new shoes to go with the very lovely dress I have purchased for the occasion. The dress is burgundy, but for some reason, the black shoes I already own and thought would be perfect simply do not complement it. Luckily for me, I attended a shoe event at Macy's tonight. And I just paid my Macy's card bill, so I went with a clean financial slate.

With Gabriella in tow, I decided to indulge in the free cocktails at the event and not leave until I had found the perfect, non-black shoes. Even if it meant biting the bullet and throwing down a few hundred dollars on a designer pair. Well, six or seven pairs of shoes later, which I could only try on once the very harried salespeople actually took notice of Gabriella and me, I had found nothing. Everything was either uncomfortable or ugly. Of course I saw about a million pairs of cute black shoes, but that did not help me. I was about to give up when I remembered that Macy's has moved several shoe brands from their signature "Shoes on Two" location up to the fourth floor. The fourth floor being the junior department. In other words, the world of ghetto-ized shoes that appeal to teenagers and early-twentysomethings.

I may be 15 to 20 years too old for that floor, but it was there that I found a pair of silver, strappy Chinese Laundry heels on the sale rack. Upon trying them on, I found them to be both comfortable and cute. They don't look quite like the shoe in the above photo, but you get the picture. And as luck would have it, they were on super-duper, extra sale. The total price including tax: $18.72.

Designers be damned; give me a comfortable $20 pair of shoes any day of the week. And believe it or not, the silver shoes look far better with the burgundy dress than the black do.

Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 21

The Moore Brothers and The Matinees at the Make Out Room

The Moore Brothers and The Matinees prove that you don't need a lot of bells and whistles to make good music. Armed with only their voices and a couple of guitars, both groups crooned sweet harmonies that created a most melodic evening.

I've actually wanted to see The Moore Brothers for almost two years but have been perpetually stymied in that quest for one reason or another. But after hitting the Make Out Room with Tom and Ann Marie last night, I am a Moore virgin no longer. And it was worth the wait. I have to admit, they seemed a little bit stoned, but they were still really good. And I have never smoked pot (honestly), so what do I know from stoned or sober? I'd never heard of The Matinees before, and they turned out to be quite a treat. Discovering new bands is one of the best parts of going to live music shows. There was a third band on the bill, but they stank, so I'll leave them out of this volume.

One thing I have to remember when I go to the Make Out Room, however, is that their cocktails are very, very strong. I had two cosmopolitans and felt like I'd had about fifty. The fact that I'd worked a ten hour day and hadn't eaten anything substantive since about 2:00 probably didn't help matters. I've known for years that Make Out Room bartenders pour with a heavy hand, but I need to act on that knowledge and stick with beer, cider or, better yet, club soda when I go there.

There is, of course, more live music in the offing. Tippy Canoe and the Paddlemen are playing the Hemlock Tavern on the 29th. Tom and I talked with our co-worker Jaclyn about going to see the Two Gallants at the Bottom of the Hill next month. The Knitters are also coming to town in October. And I just learned that The Beautiful South will be at the Fillmore in November! I am sooooo there.

Single Girl Weekend... Or Not

My twice-divorced friend Kristie came to visit me this weekend. Last year she came up to San Francisco from Southern California for a few days, and I showed her the upside of the single life. We hit Favorite Bar, Ti Couz, Casanova, the Slanted Door and a Madness concert at Bimbo's. That's right, Madness. So I was not at all surprised that she wanted to return, especially since her new job has proven a little overwhelming.

Poor Kristie. She kind of picked the wrong weekend to come back.

Not only did I have to work the entire time she was here, but also I was committed to my former co-worker James' wedding reception on Saturday and Gretchen and Paul's baby shower on Sunday. Nice single life, huh? For the record, that is not a typical Sassy weekend. Now, the wedding reception didn't actually start until 10 p.m. (don't ask me), so at least we were able to go to Favorite Bar beforehand. By the way, Kristie agrees that Favorite Bar is a wonderful place. Granted, since she doesn't live here, she really doesn't have a whole lot of perspective, but whatever. Anyway, we'd had a few cocktails by the time we got to James' wedding reception, but luckily it was really casual. So James didn't mind that we needed to leave soon after arriving so I could put myself to bed.

I call myself a partier, but I am really a total lightweight.

Gretchen and Paul's baby shower was really, really fun. And I'm not just saying that because I co-hosted it. Mostly it was fun because no stupid baby games were invited. Also, it was co-ed, which is just better. We simply gathered at Gretchen and Paul's place for snacks, drinks and to shower them with love and good wishes. Oh, and gifts. And then we borrowed an idea from the only other traditional baby shower I've attended (Sebastian's doesn't really count) and painted onesies. That is, we took a whole bunch of plain white onesies, and all the guests decorated them with fabric paint. I wrote "Brown, Class of 2027" on mine. I think their baby will appreciate that. Gretchen and Paul said they did, as long as I help them pay the tuition if their son decides he wants to go there because of me.

She didn't know anyone, but I think even Kristie had good time.

But now that the weekend is over, the more typical Sassy activities resume. Tom, Ann Marie and I are planning to see The Moore Brothers at the Make Out Room tomorrow, and I'm going to some kind of designer shoe event on Thursday. I can't afford to buy designer shoes, but I'm all for browsing with a cocktail in my hand. Okay, so I have another wedding next weekend, but then I'm off to Hawaii after that. Talk about good times.