Christmas in Los Feliz

I'm becoming either older, wiser or a complete wimp.

I've been spending the holiday weekend in Los Feliz, a little L.A. neighborhood nestled right next to Hollywood, and my partying prowess has not been up to snuff. On one hand, it's no big deal because this weekend has been more about family than nightlife. Plus, I've been getting over a cold that hit the day after my birthday, but still. On Friday night I went to Tiki Ti and was able to finish only one drink before needing to head home. Now, the tropical cocktails at Tiki Ti are very strong, and as I walked out of the bar at...oh, 9:30 or so... I remembered that the friend who introduced me to that place a year and a half ago said a person really should have only two drinks there. And this friend is a boy who can drink a lot more than me. Regardless, it was a poor showing on my part. Then last night I went to the Dresden Room and could finish only two seemingly normal potency cocktails before relinquishing my bar stool. I ended up returning to the Dresden about an hour later, but that was because my brother, sister and I decided that our former professional jazz singer mother absolutely had to see Marty and Elayne. And on my second pass I drank Pellegrino.

I fear that as I age, I becoming an amateur. Although truthfully, that's probably something I should be happy about.

Overall it has been a nice little visit to the Southland. Apparently, it has rained a lot in the City of Angels this month, but not a drop has fallen since my arrival on Christmas evening. I've hit Fred 62, as I always do when I'm here, and as my cold has waned, I've been able to exercise again, taking my famed run/walks down Los Feliz Boulevard.

However, all good things must come to an end, including mini-vacations. I'm heading back to the Bay tonight where a very early morning work schedule for the next four days awaits me, and I fear ants will be parading through my apartment (they've been seeking shelter from San Francisco's own rain). But soon it will be 2009, and the prospect of new projects and adventures, including the most excellent day of January 20th, is very exciting. I'm generally none too thrilled about January, also known as the most painfully boring and depressing month on the calendar, but I'm trying to look ahead. I have noticed during my travels through the Internet that a couple of my friends can't wait for the holidays or December to be over, and I think I agree. Not that I would ever turn my back on Christmas or my birthday month, but much like my friend Terry, I've been experiencing a few too many dramatic ups and downs lately.

So perhaps turning the page on a new year will be good for me, too. I'll just have to figure out a way to temper the January ennui.

Artist: Beatles, Album: White, Disc: Two, Track: One

Oh, yes. I say it's my birthday.

The shortest day and the longest night of the year also happens to be the anniversary of the day I was born deep in the Wisconsin snow. (Okay, I was born in the comfort of a hospital, but December in Green Bay? Surely someone was up to their ears in snow.) However, before I get to rambling about myself, I must apologize to you. I have been a serious slacker when it comes updating this little space, and I have no excuse. I think I've just become a busier person lately, and sadly, the Sassy chronicles have suffered as a consequence. So here's a little summary of what has been going on lately.

Last weekend was jam-packed. I met Carolyn at the Attic for Teenage Kicks on Friday night, and it was spectacular. Unfortunately, it was also Victor's last night as Teenage Kicks co-host. The music will continue, but it won't be the same without Victor's genius. Poop. On Saturday I went wine tasting in Napa with my old friend Bobby and his family. It was cold in Napa that day, but drinking red wine at 10:30 in the morning will take the chill out of the air quite handily.

On Sunday Jackie and I began our open mic holiday tour. All that really means is we wove a couple of Christmas songs into our regular set, but being the huge fan of Christmas music that I am, I was in heaven. I got to do my Darlene Love impersonation (like I could sing anywhere near as well as she does) on "Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)" and her version of "White Christmas." We also were going to do The Waitresses "Christmas Wrapping," but we couldn't work it out in time. You kind of need bass on that song, anyway, and we haven't found a bass player yet. Andrey joined us at the Black Magic open mic, crooning his way through Elvis' "Blue Christmas" and "Last Christmas" by Wham. Yes, Wham. Live with it.

Now, the Sassy Birthday weekend began with me, Andrey, Mary Beth and my sister Fabulous Patti gathering on Friday night to go caroling. After a couple of cocktails at my neighborhood bar (which, by the way, whips up a fantastic chocolate martini), we took to the streets. Even though it was 9:30 and a tad late for caroling, we were very well received and even got free champagne at one house. That, my friends, is caroling 21st century style! Yesterday was all about my friend Laura. Her birthday actually is on Tuesday, but her husband organized an early surprise pub crawl and dinner for her. It was kind of loud, a little rowdy and a lot of fun.

And that brings us to this morning. The weather is rainy, but that will not dampen my spirits. Late this afternoon my friends and I are meeting in the Mission for the Sassy birthday festivities. Cocktails will be included. At the end of the day, though, all I really want for my birthday is attention.

So thanks for reading.

Good Weekend, Bad Day

I'd say any weekend that ends with cookies is a good weekend.

This is me with the Gourmet Group girls at Molly's cookie party on Sunday afternoon. Yum! Unfortunately for me, I'd had a little too much to drink on Saturday night; so I wasn't very hungry on Sunday. Meaning I only ate a fraction of the cookies I would have otherwise, and I didn't take any home.

Lame.

I drank too much on Saturday night because I went to my very fine musician friend Pat Johnson's birthday party at Cafe Royale. It was as much a concert as a party because Pat and some other musicians he knows did a round robin of performing, treating the rest of us to song after song for a good two hours. It was most excellent. As were the glasses of champagne and Chimay that accompanied me at the show. I didn't drink that much, but I'm old. So it had an effect.

Earlier in the day on Saturday, Jackie, Suzanne and I got together to practice for the next open mic. Nothing is more fun than belting Christmas songs on a Saturday afternoon. Well, some things are more fun, but this is a family blog.

So given all that, you may be wondering what bad day the title of this post refers to. Well, that would be today. It's the 28th anniversary of John Lennon's murder, and I think we all can agree that December 8, 1980, was a very, very bad day.

Sunday Open Mic Delight

The most enthusiastic man in San Francisco is Ray, the guy who hosts the Sunday evening open mic at the Black Magic Voodoo Lounge.

My guitarist Jackie and I made our third appearance at the Black Magic hootenanny last night, and you'd have thought we were the second coming of the Beatles (or at least the Monkees), given the way Ray greeted us and introduced us to the crowd. Apparently, in the eyes of Ray, we're talented, mesmerizing, incredibly engaging and other such flattering adjectives.

Whether we're really that good or not, last night's performance went very well, thank you very much. We got to play seven songs, and the bar was filled with my friends (thank you Irina, Tom, Roland, Suzanne, Denise, Carolyn, Dima and Aisha!). So it was kind of like a mini concert. We ran through tunes by the Beatles, Nick Lowe, Marshall Crenshaw, Blondie, Fairground Attraction, Petula Clark and Darlene Love, and the other musicians at the open mic were very gracious about the fact that we only play covers. One day I'll write a song. Honestly...

Anyway, it was super duper fun. Jackie and I currently are looking for a bassist to join our little project, and Andrey and Suzanne may sing with us on occasion. (Andrey already sang with us once, but it's been hard to pin him down for more performances.) Next up: our Christmas tour. We're working on several Christmas songs, one of which we debuted last night, and we'll be doing a little open mic tour in two weeks. We'll start with the Black Magic and move on to others throughout the week. Yay!

I love singing. It's very therapeutic for me.

As I look to the current week ahead, I mostly will be writing Christmas cards and planning my birthday party, which is fast approaching. Aside from that, I'm meeting Denise at the Fancy Gym tomorrow night for a farewell workout/cocktail evening. I love, love, love the Fancy Gym, but I hardly have gone since I moved across town. So I've joined a facility closer to my new abode and have to bid the Fancy Gym farewell. Sadness. I'll also be celebrating my friend Beth's birthday this weekend and practicing for the open mic Christmas tour.

Ah, 'tis the season for songs, exercise and parties.

Living Large In L.A.

Well, I probably didn't really "live large," but I certainly had a great mini-vacation. The only drawback was that I fell ill Friday morning. I get throat/tonsil infections every three to five years, and one set in late Thursday night. However, I certainly wasn't going to let a colony of tiny microbes stop me; so after a quick trip to urgent care for antibiotics, I was good to go. And on Friday, that meant going to Disneyland. Armed with four free passes, I met Emily, Domenica and Corey at the Magic Kingdom, and we ran the place. Disneyland is all decked out for the holidays right now, and Emily and I couldn't resist snapping the above photo in front of a very thoroughly lit Small World. I imagine Disneyland will have one heck of a PG&E bill this season.

On Friday night, I joined Emily and her friends, along with my sister Fabulous Patti, at Hollywood Park for a concert by Dave Wakeling of the English Beat. Dave lives in Southern California and tours all over the state with studio musicians filling in for the rest of the Beat. Even though I've seen him at least eight times over the last seven years, I never get sick of his music. We all skanked and sang through Dave's hour and a half long set, and it's possible I knew all the words to every song. During a little post-show chat, we got Dave to pose for this photo with us. Needless to say, he was more than willing to allow himself to be flanked by a group of pretty girls.

Saturday was a little more mellow. I spent the afternoon shopping in Silver Lake's Sunset Junction neighborhood. Then Fabulous Patti and I went to the Griffith Observatory before heading to South Pasadena to visit our nephew Mikey Jet (oh, and his parents). On Sunday, I met Bill and Irina for brunch where we were served by a rather hot waiter who was both a pretty good flirt and willing to take this commemorative photo for us. And that pretty much ended my visit. The weather was great all four days I was in town, which is a really good thing since it's raining in L.A. this week.

Now that I've returned to the Bay, I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving, Arabian Nights at Berkeley Rep, boy shopping with Suzanne and another open mic performance. See why I needed a vacation? I had to rest up for all of this.

V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N... In the L.A. Sun!

I've taken today and tomorrow off work and am spending a long weekend in Los Angeles. I have to work through the holidays, so I figured I'd take a mini-vacation before the season kicks into gear next week.

And that brings me to Los Feliz, where I arrived last night. So far today, I've done as little as possible, lest I forget I'm supposed to be relaxing. After taking my usual run down Los Feliz Boulevard, I met my high school friend Alison for brunch at Fred 62. After that I did a small bit of shopping and hit Pinkberry, of course.

I then spent a little chunk of time working out the logistics for my trip to Disneyland tomorrow. I'm going with Emily, who is another high school friend, and Domenica and Corey, Bay Area friends who now live in San Diego. After Disneyland, Emily and I, along with my sister Fabulous Patti and some friends of Emily's, will be seeing Dave Wakeling at Hollywood Park tomorrow night. Saturday and Sunday are looking a little more fluid at this point, but I'm hoping to do some champagne tasting at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, on my friend Andrey's recommendation.

There was a moment this morning when I was feeling like the infatuation I felt for Los Angeles last fall and this past winter was starting to fade. I grew up here (in Pasadena, to be specific) and always have liked it, but it was like the promised land to me about a year ago. However, as this trip began, I was wondering if my love affair with L.A. had just been a fling. Then, as I was walking along Vermont Avenue this afternoon, I looked up into the hills to see the Hollywood sign and the Griffith Park Observatory, and that euphoric rush of love came back. San Francisco is my home now, but there never can be too much love for the City of Angels.

La Vie Boheme

I have seen the musical Rent seven times: once on Broadway with the original cast, once in Boston, once in Los Angeles and four times in San Francisco. And that's not counting the evening I sat through that god awful film adaptation. I am aware that several members of original Broadway cast, who were also in the film, very much liked the celluloid version and were quite disappointed it wasn't better received. Well, I mean no disrespect to them or to director Chris Columbus, but that movie seee-ucked.

Anyway. While I have seen Rent seven times, until last Thursday night, I had never seen the Puccini opera upon which it is based: La Boheme. However, I rectified that situation by attending the final dress rehearsal of San Francisco Opera's current production of La Boheme. It is wonderful. The singing is, of course, amazing, especially that of the woman who plays Musetta. She is phenomenal. And the sets are beautiful. All in all, it was a very cultured and satisfying evening.

All of that said, I have an evil confession to make. I think I like Rent better. I know, I know. I fully expect Puccini's ghost to smite me anytime now. If one day I suddenly turn into a puff of smoke, you'll know why. It's just that I find myself very impressed with how well Jonathan Larson not only adapted the story but expanded it. He took the slightly dull supporting characters of Colline and Schunard and gave them a very significant story line in the 20th century version.

Plus, it's easier to sing along with rock songs than with opera. And I like that Mimi lives at the end of Rent.

Yep. Smiting to come any day now.

Not seeing cultural redemption on the horizon, I decided to move forward with my weekend. On Friday night Tom, Andrey, Olena, Berto, Indie and I hit the Attic for Teenage Kicks, which was quite the blast. And later this afternoon, Jackie and I will be gracing the Black Magic open mic with a few of our fabulous cover tunes. Andrey was supposed to sing with me, but the poor lad has been felled by a sore throat. I'm no opera or Broadway singer, but the cocktails will be flowing today, and it should be a good time.

Kids In America

Although the song isn't lyrically appropriate, overall, especially since I think it actually pokes a little gentle fun at The Colonies and those of us who live here, sometime back in March or April, I decided that a refrain from Kim Wilde's "Kids In America" would be the perfect theme for Barack Obama's presidential campaign:

New York to east California
There's a new wave comin', I warn ya
We're the kids in America
We're the kids in America

In case you haven't heard, last night Barack Obama was elected President of the United States. There are a lot of things I could say about this fact, but I'd be writing all night, and I have a show at Berkeley Rep to get to this evening. So I'll just offer a few tidbits.

First of all, it's not something I spent a lot of time thinking about, but if you'd asked me at any time prior to this year if I thought an African American would be elected president, my answer would have been, "One day, to be certain, but not in my lifetime." I'm 38 years old; born after the bulk of the civil rights movement and raised by a Caucasian father and African American mother in an environment where I never thought there was anything unusual about people of different races loving each other, as opposed to hating each other. But obviously I'm aware of racism because, despite my upbringing, I still never thought I'd see this day.

I've never been happier to be proven wrong. Not only has an African American been elected president, but a brilliant, well educated African American who, by all appearances, has the vision to be an excellent leader. Thank you for that, Mr. President Elect. (Plus, I'll share a little secret: I'm thrilled that Obama is bracial, like me. Yay!)

I went to sleep Monday night feeling like a child on Christmas Eve. I bounded out of bed in the morning and was at my polling place ready to vote at 7:05 a.m. So were the 30 other people in line ahead of me, and the many others who arrived during the hour it took me to complete my civic duty. Throughout the day I became so nervous about the outcome of the election that I felt nauseous. I finally let myself breathe at about 6 p.m. Pacific Time when it was estimated that Obama had won Ohio. Even though we knew what was going to happen by the time the polls closed in California two hours later, it was still an incredible thrill to see the announcement on CNN that Obama had been elected. I was at a party with Denise and Paul at the time, and we all let out a serious cheer and toasted the moment with glasses of Veuve Clicquot.

I called my friend Chris a few minutes later, and he was crying so hard, he couldn't speak.

After the speeches, Paul, Denise and I did a little party hopping and found ourselves in San Francisco's Union Square at about 11:00. The energy was electric, people were jubilant, and it looked like there had been a street party earlier (and by all accounts, I think there had been). It seemed that people of all races and ages were out, revelling in Obama's victory and the pride of being kids in America.

I'm generally cynical about politicians, and it remains to be seen if Obama can keep all the promises he's made on the campaign trail. I tend to doubt he'll be able to, but for now, it feels really wonderful to hope.

Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol... oh, I don't know

She and Him at Bimbo's 365 Club

I have to admit I've grown bored with numbering the missives on this space in which I gush about music. Sorry. Anyway, last spring an email from All Music tipped me off to a new album by actress Zooey Deschanel and musician M. Ward. The pair had worked together on a film and decided to continue making music under the name She and Him. Deschanel sings, Ward plays guitar, and both write the songs.

Back in the day, if I may grossly oversimplify things, music lovers would hear a song on the radio, and if they liked what they heard, buy a 45-rpm single at their local record store. Often that purchase would lead to something bigger: namely procuring the full length album where the song could be found. Other songs from that album may make it onto the radio airwaves, they may not. It was a good system, and it worked for decades.

Well, this is 2008. I had not in the spring and still have not heard any She and Him songs on the radio. Admittedly, I don't listen to every radio station in San Francisco; I don't even listen to most of them. What I did on that spring day after reading the She and Him album review on the All Music website was head to Amazon. There I could preview every track of Volume One. It's a collection of country-flavored tunes, 60's girl group-esque ditties and a couple of covers.

I chose my favorite numbers, generally leaning toward the girl group sound, and that night hopped onto iTunes where I downloaded "Why Do You let Me Stay Here?", "Sweet Darlin'" and "I Was Made For You." No radio station necessary (scores of people I know will not be at all happy I just wrote those words), no album purchase required. The country-ish songs came off a little too sappy in their 30-second Amazon previews for my taste; so I stayed away from them.

Well, I may only own three songs, but over the last half year I have fallen in love with She and Him. So I jumped at the chance to see the duo perform at Bimbo's 365 Club last night (they've also got a show there tonight). Lavender Diamond, a band I had stumbled upon on MySpace last year, was the opening act. I invited Bill, Kim, Mary Beth and Kurt to come along, and we all gathered at the historic Bimbo's to take in some new music.

The show was phenomenal. The sap I'd heard within She and Him's country tunes was completely absent from the live performance, and every number sparkled. And of course, I was delighted to sing along... loudly... with the songs I already know well and love. Both Kurt and Mary Beth, who were not familiar with She and Him's music before last night, enjoyed the show so much they thanked me for inviting them. She and Him are just so good. They're so good, they're so good, they're so good.

I still haven't heard them on the radio, but after last night, I just may buy that whole album. You should do yourself a favor and do the same.

Hey Look, It's Fall!

Yes, it's been autumn for more than a month, but I'd say we now have some pretty clear signs of the season change. First of all, Halloween is tomorrow. I know in my last missive I expressed my distaste for Halloween, but the party I went to on Saturday night was so much fun that I'm very much looking forward to my second Halloween party tomorrow evening. I'll be wearing the same costume and hanging out with many of the same people, but whatever.

Anyway, here's a photo from the last weekend's festivities that I nicked from Andrey's Flickr page. I like this picture because it's full of so much color. I don't know if that's us, the camera or the skill of the photographer, but I think it looks great. While my go go boots are obscured in this shot, you can see the ultra groovy pattern of my mod mini dress, not to mention the hoop earrings I chose to finish the look. (It should be noted that in the late 80's and early 90's, I wore big hoop earrings like this all the time... just because.) Pictured with me are Anne, Melli, Denise, Charlie (in the far back), Laura, Gigi and two women whose names I don't know.

In addition to Halloween, the season is making itself known in other ways, as well. After our typical Bay Area October warm spell, the temperatures have turned colder, and the days are getting way shorter. It's so dark when I get up to go running in the morning that I'm actually looking forward to the end of Daylight Saving Time this weekend. I'm also starting to get that pre-holiday season excitement, when the glow of an upcoming Thanksgiving, Christmas and the most important holiday, my birthday, fills my heart. This is the fun part of the year, before the gloom of the ever-depressing January and February strikes at the onset of 2009.

Oh, and there's one other tiny event making its mark this season. That would be a little election coming up on Tuesday. I've become so addicted to all the election coverage that I don't know what I'll do come Wednesday when I have no reason to be glued to MSNBC. Well, I think I'll manage, especially if things go the way I hope they will (keep your fingers crossed).

Whichever way you're leaning, I certainly hope you vote!

Halloween A Go Go

Halloween is one of my least favorite holidays.

I loved Halloween when I was a kid, and I still think highly of it as a children's holiday. After all, what's more awesome than trick or treating? But adult Halloween? That seems like just another excuse for people to drink to excess while women are dressed as scantily as possible. Don't believe me? Just try shopping for an adult woman's Halloween costume these days, and listen to the noise outside your window next Friday night. Plus, I never know what to dress up as, and the stress of figuring that out gives me a headache every year.

So usually I just try to avoid it altogether.

However, even though I don't like Halloween, I do like socializing, and I was invited to two Halloween parties this year. So I decided to bite the bullet and embrace Halloween as best I can. After much deliberation, I decided to be a go go dancer. Given my attraction to 60's music, not to mention my favorite 80's band, the Go-Go's, I'm surprised I'd never chosen this costume before. Plus, my penchant for wearing short(-ish) dresses and tall boots already lends somewhat of a go go style to my everyday look. But like I said, usually I try to avoid Halloween.

Anyway, the centerpiece of my costume is gold go go boots, like the ones shown here. I then bought a "mod swirl" mini-dress from one of those Halloween stores and finished the look with chunky costume jewelry purchased from Aldo Accessories. Add a little sparkly eye shadow, and I'm good to go.

The first of my Halloween parties was last night. It was thrown by Melli and her roommates at their apartment in North Beach, and I'd say it was a hit. The signature drink was a vodka punch our hosts called Vampire's Kiss. After two cups, however, I realized that it should have been called Vampires Kick Your Ass. So I stopped drinking and made quick work of the snack table to help avoid a hangover.

I also met a very nice zombie... excuse me, a fellow dressed as a zombie... who became my hero when he mentioned he had attended the Masque reunion show at the Echoplex last year. Now, I suppose I could have gone to the Masque reunion show, myself, but I didn't. And that fact that he did made him my hero instantly. I bet this guy never thought that watching a bunch of aging punk rockers perform would be a babe magnet a year later, but then, he'd never met me.

Except for two people, no one seemed to get my costume. In fact, people kept guessing flapper (what?), but that's okay. I actually had fun dressing up, and will break out my inner go go again for the Bradys' party next Friday. And just wait, those gold boots likely may become a mainstay of my everyday wardrobe.

Welcome to 1996

Why hello! I'm writing this little missive courtesy of a dial-up Internet connection. How late 20th century, no?

After an hour on the phone with Earthlink this morning, it was determined that the newly installed DSL at my new apartment is not working. I told the Earthlink technician that at the beginning of the call, but I do appreciate his troubleshooting efforts. Even if those efforts cut into my exercise time. Another technician called me tonight and asked me to do the exact same things I'd done this morning because, apparently, he needed his own confirmation that the line isn't working. I got a bit of an attitude at that point, given all the time I'd already spent testing my motem, but I did what he asked. And then he never called me back, even though he said he would.

I certainly hope this gets resolved sometime soon.

Aside from chatting with the lovely gentlemen at Earthlink, I split my time this weekend between lounging, socializing and running errands. The errands mostly involved buying more things for the new pad. Things like a flashlight, batteries, bug spray (I have a backyard, and sometimes the insects forget that they are outdoor pets), copies of my house keys and a P.O. box, which I am renting to keep the exact location of my new domicile off the Internet.

My lounging time saw me watching lots of MSNBC and DVD's. It also lead me to the mystery of why my new DVD player has decided repeatedly to tell me "Display Connected -non HDCP Compliant," even though it hasn't said that the other times I've used it. I even read the owners manual and still can't figure out how to stop the machine from flashing that reminder.

Then there was the socializing. On Friday I made a quick appearance at Sens for happy hour with Andrey, Carla, Olena, Lorena and several others. Then I met Carolyn at an art show in the Mission, after which we collected Dima and went to the Attic. I drank far too much on Friday night; so I stayed in Saturday night and then met Carla for brunch and, more importantly, mimosas this afternoon. Now it's Sunday evening, which means back to work tomorrow. Too bad weekends aren't five or six days long.

One more thing. Do me a favor and think good thoughts for Father Sassy. My dear old daddy is going through some rough times, and I don't think they are going to get smoother any time soon. Or at all.

And Breathe

After two months of stress and anxiety, I'm beginning to feel like myself again. My move is almost done; I'm just going to swing by my old apartment one last time to collect any mail that may have landed there, and then on Wednesday morning I'm turning in the keys.

At that point, I'll be completely free!

I'm all moved in at my new place, and I love it, love it, love it! The apartment is great, the neighborhood is even better, and so far, my landlords have been awesome. I just need to procure a dining room table and a couple of chairs, and I'll be done furnishing the place. Then the decorating can begin. This move cost me a hefty chunk of cash; so decorating will have to be a slow and measured process. I need to practice frugality for the next several months, but the move sooo has been worth it. I know I've been a little vague, but I'll cough up all the details of why I decided to move once I get the security deposit from my old apartment back.

Evidence that my life is getting back to normal was abundant this weekend, as I seem to be back to my socializing ways. On Friday night, I met Carla at the Attic for Teenage Kicks, which was, of course, awesome. And I learned something new this time around. Did you know that REM did not write the song "Superman?" I sure didn't. It's a cover of a Clique song, which Victor played on Friday. Pretty neato, huh? Well, I think it's neato, but you know that good music, in general, impresses me.

On Saturday I went to a Blue Angels rooftop barbecue after cleaning my old apartment. I missed the Blue Angels airshow but arrived in plenty of time for the snacks and drinks. A few hours later I met Joey for cocktails at the Latin American Club. On Sunday I went to Tony Nik's at about noon for mimosas and North Beach's annual Columbus Day parade. I had never been to that parade, and I must say, it was a sight. It's basically a small town parade that somehow finds itself in San Francisco every year. Too much. And if all that wasn't enough, my weekend ended with Carolyn and I enjoying fancy hamburgers and Burgundy last night in my new 'hood.

So now that life seems to be getting back to normal, I can focus on the important things: singing, boys and worrying about the upcoming election. (Honestly, if McCain and his crazy running mate win, I may have to hide under my bed for four years... or longer.) I also have to figure out what to be for Halloween. Any ideas?

Beer With Their Bickering

If you're going to watch the presidential debates, and I certainly hope you are watching them, I recommend doing so with an adult beverage in hand. Not because Barack Obama and John McCain's polite sparring is necessarily difficult viewing, but simply because politics goes better with a drink.

Last night, Andrey and I went to a small bar in North Beach (the name of which completely escapes me) to take in the second presidential debate, and I must say: it paired nicely with our bottles of Chimay. The bar was not at all crowded, but the few North Beach characters who dotted the barstools provided some fascinating debate commentary. Those pundits on CNN and MSNBC have nothing on these folks.

After the debate, Andrey and I treated ourselves to pizza slices and then went to Tonic in Russian Hill to check out an art show that a friend of Andrey's was having. It was a great way to turn civic awareness into a night out.

In other news, I've moved into my fabulous new apartment! I have to deal with some furniture I've left in the old place, but that will be handled this weekend. I will admit my new pad is darker and somewhat cooler than my former home, which got lots of sunlight and had radiators that always seemed to be on. However, the new place is much bigger; seems not to feature any nuisance neighbors; and is, so far, vermin-free. All of those things trump light and heat any day. I can always buy lamps and turn up the thermostat.

The Little Things

Sometimes it's the little things that make the happiest (or at least pretty darn happy). Cases in point:

1. The season premiere tonight of "Pushing Daisies," a cute, creative show starring my new TV boyfriend, Lee Pace.

2. And speaking of boys, the super hot guy who rode by me on his bicycle this morning and smiled. Attractive men are everywhere; so normally I wouldn't blog about such an ordinary occurrence. However, all the living space and moving stress I've been under lately has made me completely forget about boys. I may have to start remembering them.

3. One of the convenience stores near work deciding once again to stock Perrier after ignoring the vastly superior, in my opinion, bubbly water in favor of Pellegrino and poorly flavored Calistoga. This store will surely have my regular business again.

4. This is the very best one: the kindness of my friends who are helping me move. Specifically, Kurt for taking me to Bed, Bath and Beyond; Bill and Kim for taking me to Ikea; and Rebecca for taking me to Costo as I collect new stuff to fill my new apartment. Plus, Tom, Chris and Andrey for helping me carry the junk I already own over to the new place. I also think Bill and Kim may help me put together my more complicated Ikea purchases. That definitely will make me happy.

Okay, that's all for tonight. Sorry, my life just isn't that exciting right now. I've been invited to two parties this weekend, and I'll tell you about them if I am able to attend. Unfortunately, however, I suspect moving will overtake my weekend, forcing me to give my inner social butterfly a rest.

I promise to be interesting again in a few weeks.

Perfect Day

If you find yourself needing the recipe for a perfect day, search no more. I stumbled upon the ingredients this afternoon.

After a morning run, I took a cab ride across town to the Portola Nail Salon where Carla, Laura, Frances, Olena and I got mani-pedis for Carla's 30th birthday. Yay, Carla! Mani-pedis are relaxing enough, but get your nails done at the Portola Nail Salon on a Sunday afternoon, and you know what you get? Free mimosas! Oh, that's right, my friends. Granted, their mimosas are made with really cheap sparkling wine and Sunny Delight, but for the bargain price of free with your nail service, they are delicious.

I had three.

After our nails dried, we headed over to the Beach Chalet for brunch with Andrey and Berto. That photo above is of us as we're digging in. Yes, Ocean Beach is cold and foggy, but it's wonderful to watch the waves while you dine. Or in my case, chow down. I hadn't eaten all morning; so by the time we sat down to brunch at 2:30, I was a little hungry.

Now, I'm very full.

Regardless, mimosas tossed with mani-pedis and blended with brunch cook up to a golden, bubbly, perfect afternoon. I'm still feeling the stress of moving and the bad living conditions that are driving me to move; so I appreciate any perfect afternoon I get. The good news on that front, however, is that I've started moving stuff into my new apartment! My goal is to be all moved in by October 6th or so. That would give me a week to clean my old place and throw out anything I don't take to my new abode. And then I will be done, done, DONE with my nuisance neighbors, bad apartment managers and the once lovely apartment building that in recent years has become nothing more than an overpriced, dilapidated tenement house.

And speaking of the move, I must scoot and get back to the packing and purging. My crap isn't going to just get up and walk over to the new place. It sure would be nice if it would, though.

Love Reminder

Do you ever find yourself questioning your love for something? I suppose, in general, love is a pretty irrational emotion. All I'd have to do is line up all the men I've ever loved/crushed on/been hopelessly infatuated with, and you'd see quite clearly just how irrational love is. But this post isn't about men.

In the nearly twelve years that I've lived in San Francisco, I've been pick-pocketed, mugged, had my identity stolen and, most recently, plagued by nuisance neighbors and the vermin they have brought into our shared apartment building. All of this has caused me to ask myself, in all seriousness, why I love the City by the Bay so much. My career has gone really well, but I have the kind of job that is in demand anywhere. So I give San Francisco precious little credit for any success in that realm.

But then last night, I was reminded why I love my little town. After a quick drink and giddy conversation at the Attic, my friend Carolyn and I went to a party for Rodent Records in a warehouse on Minnesota Street (by the way, prior to last night, I had no idea where Minnesota Street was, even though it's mere blocks from Tom and Chris' pad). We were there to see the Kirby Grips play a reunion show, which we caught and loved. But this party was so much more than the Grips' set. There was a whole parade of bands, and the warehouse was an artist space adorned with the artists' work.

As I watched the Kirby Grips blast through power pop number after power pop number while some very strange film was beamed on the wall behind them, my heart swelled, and I remembered why I love San Francisco. Sure, you can go to a cool bar and then see live music in a warehouse in New York, L.A. or Chicago, but there seemed to be something so San Francisco about the evening. And nuisance neighbors, vermin and crime be damned, I was happy to be there last night and to be in the City.

We'll see if that love can survive the stress of moving to a new apartment and the few more weeks I have to live with my idiot neighbors and pest control issues.

In other news, the Emmy Awards are tonight. You may recall me telling you that my brother Michael was nominated for an Emmy this year. He and his band mates were nominated for writing the main title theme to the animated Disney series, Phineas and Ferb. Well, that particular honor was awarded with the other Creative Arts Emmys last weekend, and... my brother and his band mates didn't win. The main theme for some reality show that lasted two episodes before it was canceled won. What's up with that?!? I suspect a fix, frankly. I know it's supposedly an honor just to be nominated, but since I wasn't the one up for the accolade, I don't have to be gracious or have a good attitude. However, all was not lost, Michael and his wife Maki were able to pose for this photo with Steve Buscemi at the ceremony, which I think is pretty cool.

So even though you'll never again hear the title theme that the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences deemed best this year, you can hear the song my brother co-wrote on the Disney Channel on a regular basis.

Thank You, Rhode Island

I grew up in Southern California; the Los Angeles suburb of Pasadena, to be specific. I now live in San Francisco and am writing today from Honolulu, Hawaii, where my mother currently lives.

However, for a few years I was a New Englander. Well, not really. I attended Brown University, which I LOVED, and after graduation, I stayed in Providence, Rhode Island, for about four and a half more years, working in both Providence and Boston. I very much did not love living in Providence as a college graduate. In fact, I hated it. I worked with some rather unfortunate people, and while I had plenty of friends (most of whom also had attended Brown), I never felt connected to New England culture. By late 1996, I could not get back to California fast enough and high-tailed it to San Francisco in November of that year.

I pretty much have never looked back, save several trips back east to visit my friends. While I find New England to be beautiful, and I love to visit the area, there is no love lost between myself and The Colonies. I would never want to live there again, and I generally am not shy about saying so. However, this week, former Republican Senator (and fellow Brown graduate) Lincoln Chafee may well have redeemed the state of Rhode Island, and perhaps all of New England, in my mind. He showed insight, intelligence and frankly, common sense this week, and I, for one, and happy that he did not keep that common sense to himself. I usually keep politics off this space, but.... From the Associated Press via the CBS News website:

Former Rhode Island Senator Lincoln Chafee, who left the GOP after being defeated for re-election in 2006, called Sarah Palin a “cocky wacko,” but admitted to a Washington audience Tuesday that she has revived a “lackluster McCain candidacy,” the AP reports.

Speaking to the New American Foundation, Chafee was asked about Palin by an audience member and he responded by saying that her candidacy has “thrown this firestorm, this tornado, into the whole presidential election.” Chafee, who is supporting Barack Obama, said that her speech to the GOP convention also energized Democrats. “People were coming into my office, phone calls were flooding in, e-mails were coming in, ‘I just sent money to Obama, I couldn’t sleep last night’ – from the left. To see this cocky wacko up there.”

In an interview with the AP Thursday, Chafee said that he “found much of Palin’s convention speech objectionable, particularly her ‘mocking’ assertion that Obama was overly concerned with al-Qaeda terrorists getting” their rights read to them. That “got to the core of everything wrong with the last eight years,” said Chafee. “I consider that wacky, and certainly her tone was very, very cocky,” he added.

Cocky or not, that woman is a wackjob who scares the living daylights out of me. So thanks, Linc, and thank you, Rhode Island. I now am feeling like I didn't appreciate you enough while I was there.

Okay, all of that said, I only have 24 more hours left in Hawaii. So I'm off to the beach.

... All I Ever Wanted

This post has nothing whatsoever to do with the Go-Go's. It's just that I am in dire need of a vacation; so I have been humming that Go's song to myself nonstop. Luckily for me, I am leaving for Hawaii on Saturday afternoon, and let me tell you, this trip is not coming a moment too soon.

Not only am I dealing with the home issues I alluded to in my last missive, but I have had the world's most frustrating day. I had to take a day off work to go to St. Francis Hospital for a medical test that, as it turns out, I didn't need. Let me repeat that: I was in the hospital at 9:00 this morning for a test I didn't need. Now, the responsible doctor at the hospital assessed that I didn't need said test; so he didn't do it. However, I did waste time there and had to get an expensive scan. And as for my primary care physician... the one who insisted on this unnecessary procedure even after I asked if I really needed it... well, he's getting fired. Just by me, but still. I've decided that his services are no longer useful to me.

What is wrong with people?

Forgive me, I usually reserve this space for happy musings, but I am so angry about what happened today. This situation has illustrated for me at least a few of the many problems with our health care system. Not to mention giving me a better understanding of the ridiculous, over-inflated costs. On the bright side, after I left the hospital in the same perfectly healthy condition in which I had arrived, I called work to see if they wanted me to come in after all. They said no; so my friend Chris, who had come to St. Francis to drive me home, and I enjoyed an outdoor mimosa brunch instead. I suppose that's a way to make lemons into lemonade. Or mimosas, anyway.

Another bit of good news is that Gretchie and I went to see a good play last night: Yellowjackets at Berkeley Rep. I will admit, the script could use some editing, but the acting in this show is phenomenal, as is often the case at Berkeley Rep. I even began to develop a teeny audience crush on one of the actors as I watched his work. However, the characters are all teenagers, and I highly doubt, based on his program bio, that the guy I was crushing on is much older than 18. So nevermind. But still, it's a pretty good play.

We'll talk again when I return from Hawaii, or perhaps while I'm there. I'd tell you I'll miss you, but I so need to get away that, in all honesty, I probably won't.

Missing In Action

Sincerest of apologies, gentle readers!

For more than two and a half years, I diligently have updated this space an average of twice a week. Now look at me: I haven't posted in 14 days. Forgive me, I've been a little busy dealing with a few teeny problems in my living space. I love my quintessential San Francisco home, but these are trying times for the Sassy domicile. Between the nuisance neighbors, bad maintenance on the part of my property manager and some uninvited guests, I've started seriously considering other options.

Plus, my doctor is freaking out because apparently I'm a tad anemic. All this has taken all my energy for the past two weeks. I haven't even been exercising lately. You know that's not like me.

I have done hardly anything fun since my friend Emily's wedding in Napa on the 17th. I did go to Joan and Richard's going-away party last weekend, but that's it. Well, until last night, that is. Right after work, my friend Alison and I went to a party for Italian speakers at a fancy apartment building South of Market. No, I don't speak Italian, but Alison carried me.

There were no cute boys at the party, though; so after a few rounds of Italian (Alison) and apologetic English (me), we went back to Alison's place where we tried to make cosmopolitans. I say we tried because Alison had no cranberry juice, but we used fruit instead and created a whole new drink! I think we should call it "The Alison" and market it to bars around the city. We sipped our newly minted creations while watching several Sex and the City episodes on dvd. It was the perfect Friday evening for a Sassy girl who has been under a decidedly un-sassy amount of stress.

At least I'm going back to Hawaii in a week. Yay! That will take my mind off my poor, abused home.