Where The Heart Is

I've been reading a few new blogs lately, many of which use photos more than text. These little chronicles have inspired me to talk in pictures more frequently, myself. Now, one of the reasons I maintain this blog is because I love to write; so pictures never will replace words here. However, variety is the spice of life, right?

One of my favorite types of posts from the blogs I've been perusing is that in which the authors display photos of their homes. It's like an everyman version of Better Homes and Gardens or Town and Country. To that end, I offer you some glimpses into my minimalist living space. I call it minimalist because I have lived in my apartment for two years, yet I still have done precious little decorating. I've not painted or hung anything on the walls (much to the relief of my landlords, I'm certain), and the only curtains I brought adorn my sliding glass doors. All the windows remain dressed with blinds only. I have managed to add a little bit of style and glamour to the rooms, however, and I've tried to capture that here. Be warned: I'm no photographer. Plus, my camera is just a digital version of one of those point-and-shoot-for-dummies numbers that I bought about four years ago at Radio Shack, of all places. I've done the best I could, though, so I hope you enjoy.

Warm living room light. Note, if you can see them, Valley of the Dolls and Milton's Paradise Lost sharing bookshelf space right next to each other. I have, indeed, read both. Speaking of books...

...I love to read, and more importantly, I love to own books. I don't think I've set foot in a library in seven years. Storing my books quickly becomes a challenge, and I am officially out of the aforementioned bookshelf space. Time to buy more furniture, I suppose.

Big sunglasses and costume jewelry. I do own some real jewelry, as well.

Coco!

Minimalist mantle: candles, photographs and two birthday cards from 2009.

I haven't shaken a cocktail at home in forever, but I remain prepared.

About 15% of my CD collection. I also own a little vinyl, and yes, many mp3s.

This says it all.

In other news, I went with my friend Andrey to see The King's Speech at the Kabuki Theatre last night. The film was lovely, and as for the Kabuki... Well, I rarely see movies in the theatre, and I don't think I've been to the Kabuki in a decade. Since before they redid it and started assigning seats and serving cocktails. After last night, I think the Kabuki has ruined me for all other movie houses. And just in time for awards season.

Perfect Friday Night: Singing and Skanking

Probably the biggest compliment anyone can pay me is hearing me sing and then assuming I do so professionally.

I am very much the amateur chanteuse, but I suppose the voice lessons, Sober Nixon rehearsals and performances, and night after night of karaoke help me to fool some of the people some of the time. Last night after work, I sang songs at two different karaoke dens, and a woman at the second venue mistook me for a professional singer. So much so that she actually was surprised when I told her I'm not a professional. I guess I did a pretty decent job on "Only the Lonely," "Somewhere Only We Know" and "Heaven Is A Place On Earth" and was a convincing Kim Deal when I backed up my friend Ash on "Here Comes Your Man."

After all the songs had been sung, I made my way to Bimbo's 365 Club to see one of my favorite bands of all time, The English Beat. Only one founding member, Dave Wakeling, still is in The Beat, but the shows continue to be really fun. I used to see The Beat every time they came to town, as well as catching them in Los Angeles with my friend Emily if they happened to be playing a show when I was there. However, I've gotten lazy and missed their last few San Francisco appearances. Last night I was reminded what a mistake it is to skip a Beat show. I had the greatest time singing along (good thing I'd warmed up with all that early evening karaoke) and dancing/skanking until I was a sweaty, happy mess. They played all their hits, some album cuts including my favorite: "Ackee 1,2,3", and even debuted some new material. New English Beat songs after almost 30 years? Apparently so.

I wish Ranking Roger still was in the band, but nothing in life is perfect, is it? Perhaps not, but seeing the English Beat live, even if it's just Dave and a bunch of musicians he's hired over the past few years, is pretty close to perfect in my book.

Math Heroine

I am reading a novel about a young woman who loves math! Okay, the heroine of Aimee Bender's An Invisible Sign of My Own actually appears to have severe OCD, and math and numbers probably help her keep her world in order. But whatever. As a real life math-loving supergirl, I often am infuriated by the stereotype that women and girls are incompetent at math or don't like it. So any representation of a female who is good at math works for me.

I adored math in high school, especially trigonometry and math analysis. Calculus admittedly was a little esoteric for my taste, but it still is math and, as a consequence, earned my admiration. I could have been a mathematician, I bet, but I went to college and majored in English literature with the intention of becoming a writer. I love books and writing, as well, so there you go. Today I am neither a mathematician nor a writer, but the career I have pursued involves writing and even a teeny bit of math.

Anyway, back to the book. An Invisible Sign of My Own is the cutest little dysfunctional read.  Well, the character is dysfunctional, anyway.  I'm not quite finished yet, but unless it takes a decided turn for the crappy in its last 48 pages, I highly recommend it. I just learned from Google that it was made into some sort of movie last year starring Jessica Alba, and I'm not sure how I feel about that (was that film ever even released?).  Once I'm done with Invisible Sign, I have four other novels waiting for me. I went on a small literary purchasing spree at the end of last month (something I do frequently), and I now am working through my bounty.

I may have a lot of time for reading over the next few days because I think I may be getting sick. That's my way of saying I am getting sick while maintaining a cloak of denial. Even if I keep this denial thing up, I have to take care of myself because I'm going to see one of my all time favorite bands on Friday night, and sniffles and coughing fits simply will not do. So it's all zinc and chilling out for a while to show whatever virus I've picked up who is boss. I have faith I will win; I am a supergirl who loves math, after all.

Notes on a Dance Party

After the horrible craziness in Arizona yesterday morning, I almost considered staying in last night and skipping the Mod Dance Party at the Burritt Room.  Almost, anyway.  In the end, I decided that sitting on my couch wasn't going to help anyone... So out dancing I went.  Here are some notes to illustrate what a top notch time was had by all.

• A pretty dress and saucy boots: staples of my wardrobe that work perfectly for mod dancing.
• Friends, including Valerie, Kevin, Tom, Julie, Jimmy, Roxanne and Steve, make up an awesome dance party posse.
• Free rum and whiskey.  The first courtesy of one of the bartenders; the other paid for by Tom.
• "Sorry" by the Easybeats and "With a Cantaloupe Girlfriend" by the Three O'Clock: my two favorite dance floor numbers of the night.
• Dancing to a song you don't know is its own reward, but especially when Tom notices that said song has the same back beat as the Kink's "All Day and All of the Night."  Because then you can do your own mash up.
• Dancing with Kevin to whatever song is a party in and of itself.  And he calls me a hoot.

Don't you wish you'd been there?

Anyway, moving on. Tomorrow I'm embarking on a grand adventure.  After work I intend to step out of my comfort zone.  Now, what I actually will be doing is very small and probably would inspire much eye-rolling and many questions such as: "Seriously?  Is that all?"  However, a comfort zone is a comfort zone, and extending even a toe out of it is very scary, at least for me.  So wish me luck.

Finally, I leave you with a little photo montage. It's a wee bit old, but I love it anyway. My friends Eric, Tom, Chris, Kevin, Angela and I had our way with the Knockout photo booth during my 39th birthday party, and just looking at these pictures makes me happy. I hope they at least make you grin a little bit.

Drums and Dancing

Get ready, kids, it's time for another Mod Dance Party! Oldies DJ nights happen all the time in San Francisco, but back in August, some friends and I went to a Mod-specific dance party. And this wasn't just about old music; tunes from the 60's, ditties from Mod's second wave, Paisley Underground selections, and even new songs filled the air and called us to the dance floor.  It was so much fun.

The same group of DJ's is throwing another Mod Dance Party tomorrow night, so of course I'm going, along with most of the same friends who joined me in the summer. I'm so excited. January is one of the most boring months of the year (closely followed by February), so it can use a little Mod energy boost.

Before the Mod dancing tomorrow, however, I have to attend to a little Sober Nixon business tonight. We are auditioning a drummer. Or perhaps it might be more accurate to say that he is auditioning us. We still don't have a new guitarist (see this previous post), but we just may be able to beef up our rhythm section in the meantime.  Providing he likes us.

And on Sunday, my friend Christine and I will be getting together for one of our bi-weekly cocktail and gossip sessions. Due to the holiday madness and various travel plans, we actually haven't had one of these sessions for a couple of months, so it's beyond time. There are cocktails to drink and boys to be discussed, and you know as well as I that those two things simply won't be made to wait.

Last Night of 2010 - First Morning of 2011

As I mentioned, I took no pictures on New Year's Eve, but my friend Heidi did. So these photos come courtesy of her. They are from the third event of my evening: the party I was attending at midnight when we all ushered in 2011. I'd say they are a pretty accurate depiction of the good time had by all.  Plus, they showcase my purple and gold New Year's Eve outfit.

Since 2011 began, things have been bubbling along quite nicely. My singing habit continues, and I exercised that habit on Monday night with some karaoke. Then last night I dined with my friends Mark and Daniel at their super fancy apartment (I think I need about six days at the gym to counteract the effects of that meal). Coming up this weekend: a Mod dance party and most likely more singing. It's a good life, and I'm glad 2011 is living up to the expectations set by the years that proceeded it.

The Year That Was

It's the second day of 2011, and I find myself on this cloudy Sunday watching "Beverly Hills, 90210" and "Gilmore Girls" reruns, cleaning my apartment and anticipating a party in North Beach early this evening. I also have been thinking a little more about the year that was 2010. So to that end, I have prepared a photographic chronicle of last year.... month by month (yes, I am aware that I have posted two photos from April; I couldn't choose). Enjoy!

January: playing Beatles Rock Band at Chris' Mission loft birthday party.

February: with Tom and Carla at Berto's birthday party in Noe Valley.

March: Sober Nixon performing at the Revolution Cafe for Caveat Lector's spring issue launch.

April: singing with Sober Nixon South of Market for Ho's birthday.

Late April: with Tom at Ala Moana Beach Park, Honolulu.

May: about to enjoy a cocktail at Tiki Ti in Los Angeles.

June: playing in the photo booth at Madrone with Candace and her (rather adorable) friend Sean.

July: singing "We Belong" karaoke-style in Santa Monica.

August: Sober Nixon performs at Cafe Royale.

September: with Nina and Frances at Nina's Burritt Room birthday party.

October: The Giants go to the World Series, and the City bathes itself in orange.

November: Thanksgiving at Tom's parents' place (the expression on my face in this photo is classic).

December: with Bill and Kim at my own Burritt Room birthday soiree.

One-One-Double One

Happy New Year, my lovies!

2011 is barely a few hours old, and the first thing I want to do is update this little chronicle. I don't know how 2010 treated you, but overall, it was pretty good to me. Until the end of year, that is.  December 9th, to be specific... when things took a decided turn for the sucky (that circle of life issue I referred to in a previous post). To be honest, the person most affected by the events of that day probably had a fairly miserable 2010, but I believe he is in a better place now.

So on to the new year for everyone. 

I must confess that I wasn't very interested in New Year's Eve this year. Usually, I feel at least a little bit of pressure to go out and do something spectacular, but this time, I seriously considered more mellow options, like staying home in my PJ's.  I have to admit, however, that I'm glad I didn't succumb to that temptation.

As it so happens, I ended up ringing in 2011 in style. My celebration began at 4 p.m. on December 31st, when I arrived at my favorite karaoke den. Three and a half hours later, I'd sung five songs and sung them all quite well. I'd like to believe that bodes well for my singing skills in the year ahead.  I also, by the way, consumed two fairly potent cocktails during that time.

After the songs had been sung, I went to a party at my friend Brad's fancy, grown up condominium. Which he owns. Like a real adult (I still proudly rent my living space). His living room offers a view of San Francisco City Hall, which still is bathed in red and green light for the holidays, as shown in the above photo.  While at Brad's place, I sipped cocktails, enjoyed snacks and chatted with his famous author friend Scott.  Okay, perhaps Scott is not famous, but he's had two novels published, and I bought one of them at Borders on Thursday evening without realizing the book I was purchasing had been written by a friend of a friend of mine.  So I was impressed.

I left Brad's at about 10 p.m. and headed across town to Olena and Kevin's party, where I intended to stay for about an hour so I could get home before midnight.  Yes, that was my intention, and no, I have no idea why.  However, within a few minutes of arriving at said soiree, I knew I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.  Champagne was consumed, dancing was done, and cheers, hugs and kisses greeted the arrival of 2011.  I brought my camera with me, but I didn't take a single photograph.  Others did snap a few shots, however; so maybe I can nick a few off Facebook in the days to come and share them with you.

All in all, I would call my New Year's Eve a big success. Here's to hoping the rest of 2011 follows suit.

Help Wanted

In the midst of our struggling economy, which has been plagued by layoffs and long-term unemployment, I actually am looking to hire someone.  This position unfortunately does not pay money, but it will pay in the form of happiness and fun.  At least I hope it will. 

Sober Nixon (pictured above performing at Cafe Royale in August) is looking for a new guitarist.  Our current guitar player, Jackie, is leaving to pursue a music and writing project she has in mind.  So alas, she no longer has time for us.  Jackie has been so easy-going and easy to work with for the past two and a half years.  She and her very good attitude will be missed, but I can't blame her for wanting to focus on her original music, as opposed to playing countless cover songs that I choose.

To that end, my first project for the new year is to find Sober Nixon a guitarist.  I'm beginning that process by networking.  I know a few musicians, and I'm hoping one or more of them will know a guitar player interested in a no-stress, cover band project.  If networking gets me nowhere, then I'll cross my fingers and brave the dreaded Craigslist.  I actually found Jackie through Craigslist, but since then, I haven't had a great experience with the "musicians" section of that website.  A lot of bitter, crazy people hang out there.

Anyway.  Sober Nixon also may be getting a drummer.  We're going to get together play with a guy I went to high school with who has become a drummer.  Hopefully, he'll like us, and we'll like him, and we can beef up Sober Nixon's rhythm section.  2011 could bring good things to my little music project.

In other news, I got a belated birthday present this evening.  It was from Sephora and was belated because I took my dear sweet time popping into the store to pick it up.  Because I am in Sephora's "spend money in here and get free stuff" program, they decided to give me a little gift to mark the anniversary of my birth.  I hardly was going to argue with that, and I walked away with a bottle of Philosophy vanilla birthday cake shampoo/shower gel/bubble bath.  I'll be using mine as shower gel.  I love presents, especially ones I don't expect.

So I guess all of this is to say that change is on tap for 2011.  Change and a few vanilla birthday cake showers.

Joyeux Noel

Timeline for Christmas, 2010:

December 24th, 6:00 a.m.:  Arrive at work. Yes, you read that correctly; I was at work at six in the morning on Christmas Eve.  The good news is that getting to work early means leaving early, and I was done with my duties and able to begin my holiday weekend by 2 p.m.

December 24th, 6:30 p.m.:  Begin final descent into the Burbank airport.  On this particular Southwest flight we were treated to free cocktails, and one of the flight attendants sang "White Christmas" to us over the P.A. system right before we landed.  Talk about Christmas spirit.

December 24th, 7:20 p.m.:  Arrive at the South Pasadena home of 4-year old Mikey Jet.  I'm usually not in Southern California on Christmas Eve because I generally work on Christmas Day, but this year was different.  As a consequence, I discovered that we spend some Christmas Eve time at my brother and sister-in-law's place.  Visiting them is always fun because it means playing with my nephew Mikey (be warned: he'll wear you out after about an hour).  On this particular visit, Mikey and I read Goofy and the Gondola, one of the strangest children's books I've ever encountered.  It did feature Mickey Mouse and Goofy, and they were on vacation in Venice, where Goofy was trying to find a job.  Of course.

December 25th, 11:00 a.m.:  Be thrilled that the torrential rain that pounded the Southland just a week or so ago has stopped and take a run/walk down Los Feliz Boulevard. 

December 25th, 12:30 p.m.:  Take a quick trip to the neighborhood grocery store, which is open, for Perrier sparkling water (can never have too much) and an extra bottle of champagne.  Just in case.

December 25th, 2:30 p.m.:  The Christmas party officially begins.  Christmas Day is spent at my sister Fabulous Patti's place in Los Feliz, and we always have music, food, drink and lots of holiday cheer.  Last year we even had a dance party, but on this Christmas, my older nephews were allowed to watch basketball when they arrived.  So the Lakers took the place of any dancing.

December 25th, 6:30 p.m.:  Enjoy a Christmas dinner that includes chicken, sushi, mac & cheese, stuffing, haru maki, green beans and cupcakes.  Diversity is the name of the game in my family.

December 25th, 9:15 p.m.:  Bid the last of the guests goodbye, except yourself, of course.  My mother and I always stay with Fabulous Patti, so we didn't have to leave.  But my other sister, brother, sister-in-law, various nephews, niece and other friends were on their way home before 10:00.

December 26th: Enjoy last day before returning to San Francisco.  That should include another run/walk, mimosas, biscuits, bacon, and general merriment.

Happy Holidays, my lovelies!  I hope your Christmas was a smashing good time.

Birthday Darling

Date: December 21, 2010
Time: 6:00 p.m. until approximately 11:30 p.m.
Place: The Burritt Room in the Crescent Hotel, San Francisco
Occasion: My 41st birthday

It's possible I should be ashamed to admit that my birthday is my favorite day of the year. Well, shame be damned, it is my favorite day of the year. No matter how old I get, I always wake up feeling a little bit special on the morning of my birthday. And every year, my very wonderful friends rise to the occasion and join me to celebrate, even if my birthday falls on a rainy Tuesday, like it did this year. Last night about 40 or so of us gathered at the Burritt Room for birthday cocktails. Here is a smattering of the photos we took throughout the evening. They should give you an idea of the wonderful time had by all.

Mark, Daniel and me

Frances and Nina

Rico, Carolyn, Eric and the star of the night: Widget

Christine, Michele and me

Me and Carla

Joel, Maya and Adam

Kevin, me, Valerie, Carolyn and Widget

A big, snuggly thanks to everyone who attended.  You made my night, my birthday, and my year.  As always.

I'm Dreaming...

My apologies, gentle readers, for my tiny absence over the past week and a half.  Also forgive me for not explaining it.  I like to keep this little chronicle happy and upbeat (personal blogs full of whining, ranting, complaining and sadness bore me), so all I'll say is that is was a circle of life issue.  Nothing for you to worry about, my friends, and I'm back now.  There is no getting rid of me permanently.

Since it is the holiday season, it was only fitting that Sober Nixon would play a Christmas party last night.  It was our bass player's company Chrismas party, but that still counts.  Our audience was small, given that it is a small company, and we played inside the office, but it was still a lot of fun.  Plus, our small audience was extremely receptive, so we felt a lot of holiday cheer and love.

Even though I've been doing my vocal exercises lately, my singing was a little rusty last night.  Except on one song.  The song about which I was the most worried, and, as a consequence, I practiced the most.  Every year, we in Sober Nixon, trot out one Christmas song: "White Christmas," and we use the Phil Spector arrangement that Darlene Love sang on Phil's 1963 Christmas album (pictured above).  Now, make no mistake: I cannot sing like Darlene Love.  However, I can sing like me, and with enough practice and awareness of supporting my breath, I can belt out a tune with the best of them.  Belt I did last night, and I would say our rendition of "White Christmas" as arranged by Phil Spector may have been the best number of the night.

Assuming I wasn't hideously off key or anything.  No one cringed, and no glass shattered, though, so I think I was okay.

Today I did a little lounging and a few chores, picked up three new books that I ordered from Amazon and got some exercise.  So now I'm ready for the socializing portion of our Saturday.  I'm going to swing by my friend Zeeshan's birthday party before going to see the Loved Ones.  Tomorrow I'll be doing some more singing (this time karaoke) and then cocktailing with my friend Christine and my sister, who is coming up from Los Angeles for a visit.  All of this is in advance of my own birthday party on Tuesday, when I'll celebrate being fabulous despite being old.

Socializing waits for no man.. or woman... however, so I've got to get to it now.  If I wait too long to leave the house, I risk getting sucked into the couch for the evening.

December Merriment

It's official: the December party season has begun. I don't call it the holiday party season because I know many people with December birthdays, myself included, and even though birthdays are big holidays, I like to keep them separate from the typical holiday season.

Last night my quite talented and fantastic friend Pat had a birthday party at The Homestead in the Mission, complete with delicious drinks, yummy cupcakes baked by his lovely fiancee and scrumptious vintage soul music spinning on the bar's turntables. My friend Christine accompanied me to the party, and we had a terrific time sipping champagne and beer, chatting with Pat's super nice friends and tapping our toes to the tunes.  I hadn't been to the Homestead since 2005 when it was still Dylan's, and it was nice to be back.  All of that is the good news.  The bad news about last night is that I learned that four Belgian beers in one evening, even over the course of five hours, are too much for me.  I made sure to eat something substantive at the party and drank a lot of water when I got home, but I was still a wee bit... let's say tired... this morning.

Ah, well, I'm old.

The parties have just begun, however. Also on tap for December is Doug's holiday party, Emily's birthday party in L.A., Anne and Jack's holiday party, my company holiday party, Frank's birthday party, a Sober Nixon gig at our bass player's company holiday party, and the creme de la creme: my own birthday party.  Oh yes, and we also have Christmas Day and New Year's Eve to celebrate.  Not to mention all the usual singing of songs and other good times.

Unfortunately, I'm likely not going to be able to attend all of December's parties. I need to go to Seattle for a few days this month, so I'm going to have to miss something. However, I intend to catch as many of the gatherings as I can and soak up as much good cheer as possible. That's what December is all about isn't it: love, fun, positive energy and peace? I'll be doing my best to indulge in all of those things as much as possible.

All You Need Is... Sin City?

Sometimes a quick getaway is all you need.  I try to take mini-vacations as often as possible, as I find them very head-clearing and relaxing.  So this past weekend, my sister Fabulous Patti and I hit Las Vegas for about 48 hours, and it was the perfect ending to the long Thanksgiving weekend.  After all the turkey was eaten and thanks given, we met at the Mirage on Saturday afternoon (I flew, while FP drove from L.A.).  Once settled in, our first order of business was to play the penny slots.

That's right, the penny slots.  We are both such high rollers, aren't we?

They make look innocuous, but the penny slots pretty much kicked both of our behinds on Saturday night.  I've always considered slot machines to be simply video games, and the money I lose is just money I spend to play. Well, after blowing through about $60 on Saturday night, I decided to try and employ a little strategy.  So I cut myself off and promised the slot machines that we would meet another day.

On Sunday I began the day at the Mirage gym and spa, where I spent three hours exercising and luxuriating. I'm not sure too many people associate Las Vegas with fitness and an afternoon at the spa, but I do. Then that evening, we went to Cirque du Soleil's The Beatles Love. I'd seen Love before, but FP had not. Having seen it before did not prevent me from tearing up, though, just as I had during my first viewing.  I just get overwhelmed by the music, and then I start thinking about how John and George are dead and how that's not fair and... well, you can imagine how things devolve from there.

Monday saw the end of our little sojourn away from reality.  Fabulous Patti left at about noon, but I had a few hours to kill before my flight.  So after lunch, I did a penny slots tour of the Bellagio, Paris and the Flamingo.  This time I was a force to be reckoned with.  I lost $8 at the Bellagio but promptly won it back at Paris.  However, I started losing at Paris and found myself down about $17 from where I started.  Then I wandered into the Flamingo, and my fortunes changed almost instantly.  Between luck and strategy (mostly luck, I admit), I conquered the slots and ended the day up about $30 or so.  No, that didn't make up for what I'd lost on Saturday night, but it did make me feel better.  It's fine to consider slot machines video games, but isn't a video game that pays you a better deal?

I came home from Sin City last night and proceeded to get up at 5:00 this morning so I could make it to the gym before cleaning up and heading to the Department of Motor Vehicles to renew my driver's license before it expires in three weeks.  The lines at San Francisco's DMV have been exceptionally long lately, so I decided it best to get there very early.  I arrived at 7:30, half an hour before the DMV even opens, and found twelve people already in line. Getting there that early proved to be worth it, though, because by 8:20 my license was renewed and I was happily on my way to work.

From Vegas to an early morning at the DMV... yes, how fortunes can change so very quickly.

Images of Thanks

Here are a few photos from the super fun Thanksgiving dinner party I attended at my friend Tom's parents' pad last night. We came, we ate, we drank.  We also laughed and had a fantastic time. Not everyone at the party is represented here, but at least you'll get an idea of the merriment.  And if you look closely, you can see the thankfulness in our eyes.  Enjoy!

Irina and me before the feasting began.

Stimulating conversation over turkey.

I'm not completely certain what's going on here, but I love this picture. Irina, Roland and an innocent Brussels sprout (with Tom looking on from behind).

Tom, Chris and me (plus Nick raiding the dessert table). This one came out a teeny bit fuzzy, but I've just decided the fuzz makes it look kind of vintage.  At that point we were very full, but we nonetheless managed to keep smiling.

That Time Again

Happy Thanksgiving, gentle readers!  Ever since I started this little chronicle, I've taken time on Thanksgiving to acknowledge, in print, all that I am thankful for.

However, I don't want to risk boring you with yet another list of the things I love about my life.  If you're interested in such a list, please feel free to see my Thanksgiving 2009 post.  Or my Thanksgiving posts from any year, really.

So I now find myself wondering what to write today.  I can tell you that I've been thinking a lot about appreciation and gratitude for the last few months, and that certainly resonates on Thanksgiving.  Live everyday, my pretties; recognize the wonderfulness in everything you have; and take nothing and no one for granted.  Perhaps that will be my New Year's resolution for 2011, but I'm getting ahead of myself here.

I've been celebrating Thanksgiving in typical urban chic fashion this year. After work yesterday, I hit my favorite karaoke den to sing songs.  That's not an unusual activity for me, but I haven't sung a note in almost two weeks due to the nasty cold I managed to pick up on the 15th.  I got a chance last night to warble quite a few tunes, and even though my voice was rusty at first, it was still fun.  Once my voice warmed up, I sounded okay.  When all the songs had been sung, I headed down the block where my friend Emmie and some others were celebrating Emmie leaving an awful job and getting a much better one.  In this troubled economy, no less.

I had to call it a night early because at 6:00 this morning I found myself at work.  Many people probably can't imagine working on Thanksgiving, but I work in a 24-hour-365-day-a-year business.  So there you go.  Plus, I really like working on holidays.  There's a great vibe among my coworkers, and on Thanksgiving (and Christmas) we get a catered feast courtesy of the boss.  Super yummy!

After work, I'll take the party to my friend Tom's parents' house.  Tom, myself, various other friends, and of course his parents, will then celebrate Thanksgiving with the typical sit down dinner and stimulating conversation. Imagine the Algonquin Round Table with turkey and cranberries...or something like that.  Because I am such a committed cook, I will be bringing a bottle of French champagne and a bottle of California sparkling wine to the meal.  That may sound like I'm cheating, but I can tell you that everyone always appreciates my liquid contribution.

I'll have to make it another early night because I have to be at work very early again tomorrow morning.  However, I'm certain I'll find a way to squeeze in an episode or two of the original Beverly Hills, 90210 on the Soap Opera Network's marathon this evening.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I'm not ashamed to admit I love that deliciously bad 1990's Aaron Spelling creation.  Entertainment pleasure that guilty certainly could be considered something I'm thankful for.

I hope your Thanksgiving is as a lovely as mine is shaping up to be.

Anachronistic Intellect

"I'm listening to you talk right now, and you sound like... like... a time when people used to be intelligent.  Like the 60's, back when people were really intelligent."

Someone said those words to me last night.  I was at one of my favorite haunts, the Burritt Room, to see Tippy Canoe and the Paddlemen, and I was chatting with a rather prominent local musician.  This musician and I don't know each other that well; we've become acquainted at shows over the years, many of them his.  Anyway, in the middle of our conversation, he saw reason to say that to me.  I take any acknowledgement of my intellect as a compliment, but I also like that he associates my intelligence with the 1960's (in my fantasy life, I'm a total mod scenester).

Add to all of the above the fact that this man really is a very talented musician, and well... those couple of sentences pretty much made my weekend.  So thank you, sir.

Fab Four In The Future

In case you missed all the hoopla this week, I am here to tell you that the entire Beatles catalog now is available on iTunes.  I will say that I still love owning records, even if I own them in CD form; a computer full of mp3's simply is not the same.  I also still make a point of frequenting brick and mortar record stores, preferably independent ones.  Nonetheless, iTunes does have a place in my life, as I find it very useful for purchasing individual songs (I don't know about you, but it's been years since I've run across a 45 in a record store).

I know virtually every Beatles song, and generally feel satisfied with the fact that I own only six of their albums.  However, recently I have been jonesing for a couple of specific numbers not on any of my six albums: "Hold Me Tight" and "Yes It Is."  Now, thanks to a few clicks of the mouse on iTunes this week, I own both.  One day I expect to add to my Beatles album collection, but picking up a song here and there also works. 

Since I was hanging around iTunes anyway, I also bought ditties by the Go-Betweens and Plain White T's.  I never manage to escape from the iTunes music store without a few more songs than I intended to buy. 

That's all about that's happening here.  I've been sick all week and even stayed home from work for two days (a rare occurrence) and haven't exercised since Monday morning (an even more rare occurrence).  But I'm on the mend now and intend to rally this evening to attend my friend Rico's birthday party for a bit and then hit the Tippy Canoe and the Paddlemen show.  We'll see if I make it, or if my pajamas and couch seduce me into spending another cozy night at home with just my lingering cough.

My cough has been reliable and loyal company this week, but I'm hoping to play with some other kids tonight.

1976

The photograph to the left was taken on Easter Sunday, 1976. Isn't my family attractive, and isn't our table cloth so very 1970's? Love it.

You can spot a six year-old me in this picture way in the back sitting near the wall on the right side of the table. My father is in the foreground on the left.  My mother is also in this shot, of course, as are all of my brothers and sisters, an aunt and uncle, my grandmother (although she's partially hidden) and my godfather. My grandfather took the photo, which is why he's not in it.

I've been thinking about my dad, in particular, a lot for the past couple of days. He's a published poet and a personal trainer (who says artists can't be into fitness?), and he's brilliant. He also, along with my equally brilliant mother, instilled in me some values that I consider to be very much a part of who I am.  Among the things my parents taught me:

• Value education. A good education is its own reward and under no circumstances should be considered just a means to a larger paycheck.
• A love of books and music. My mom is a former jazz singer, so of course the daughter of a writer and a singer would love reading and music. My dad pretty much only likes classical music and jazz, so generally he's unimpressed by my taste in music, but whatever. No Nick Lowe, Buddy Holly or the Go-Go's for him.
• Do what you love in life. It doesn't matter if you make $20,000 a year or $200,000, what's most important is that you love what you do (and that you're as well educated as possible).

That's just the tip of the iceberg.  Admittedly, my dad has not been the world's most perfect parent, but I wouldn't trade him for anything (or anyone). The same goes for my mother. They each have their foibles, let's say, but I couldn't imagine having been born to a better pair.

Rhythm and Melody

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that my Sober Nixon bandmates and I recently did some recording in my living room (while watching the Giants beat the Phillies and win the NLCS, by the way).  Well, slowly but surely Sober Nixon's bass player, Ho, who also is serving as producer on this little project, is polishing up each of the songs we recorded.

If you want to hear one of the recordings, simply click here.  Remember, we're a cover band.  So yes, we play songs other people wrote.

I admit, my vocal rendition lacks the anger of Elvis Costello or the urgent melancholy of Nick Lowe, who did write this tune.  However, I stand by my performance.  Especially since I'm in the process of learning to sing, and probably the most important thing I've learned is that it's a slow process.  Anyway, enough with the excuses... just enjoy!  We're not exactly a garage band, but I think our recent recording session makes us at least a living room band.

We Could Live Beside The Ocean...

Day and time: Monday at approximately 3:00 p.m.
Place: Santa Monica, California
Weather: Mostly sunny skies, believe it or not.

Sometimes my cell phone camera takes fantastic photos, other times not so much.  I discovered while singing at Boardwalk 11 last night that my "real" camera (which has issues of  its own) either has a dead battery or simply has completely died, so I snapped this shot of Santa Monica Beach this afternoon with my cell phone.  Looks kind of gloomy and, as my friend Nina pointed out, even rainy, doesn't it?  Well, aside from some wind, the weather actually was quite lovely.  I even considered buying a sun hat.  In November.  In San Francisco, you have to wear your winter coat whenever you visit the ocean, no matter what the season.

On this third day of my Los Angeles mini-vacation, my sister Fabulous Patti and I drove from Los Feliz to the coast and pretended to be tourists by paying the Santa Monica Pier a little visit.  On the way, we stopped by the La Brea Tar Pits, per my request.  I hadn't been there since a school field trip in second or third grade, and I wanted to see if anything has changed.  By all appearances, it has not, although we didn't actually go into the Tar Pits museum.

After the Pier, where we had decidedly yummy milkshakes, we walked along the Third Street Promenade for a while and then headed back east and hit this comfortable little restaurant for dinner.  I have another almost full day of mini-vacation tomorrow before flying back to the Bay in the evening.  I think I'll make the most of it by relaxing as much as possible.  I know you would do the same.

Southland Sunday Night

A lot of people don't like Los Angeles. Especially a lot of people in the Bay Area. However, I happen to love it. I grew up in Pasadena, which was quite a lovely place to spend my formative years, and even though I don't live in the L.A. area now, I visit quite often. Of course, if you read this little chronicle with any kind of regularity, then you know that already.

I happen to be in L.A. for a mini-vacation as I type, and it has been quite the lovely time so far. Last night I visited my brother, sister-in-law and nephew Mikey Jet, and we sang songs and read stories and played the "Penguin Game."  If you want details on the Penguin Game, you'll have to ask Mikey.

Today I brunched at Fred 62, purchased myself a new dress and coat at my favorite clothing store in the world and am about to go sing songs with my friends Emily and Dionne.  I believe I'll taking a journey to Santa Monica tomorrow afternoon and possibly dining with Katya and Dave in the evening.  Then it's back to the Bay on Tuesday night.

Until then, however, this California Girl will be living it up in La La Land.

Whisper Words of Wisdom

Focus too much on what you thought or hoped would be, and you risk missing the beauty and joy of what is.

Find the above quotation to be inspirational?  Well, you can thank me because I made it up.  Or I think I made it up, anyway.  More likely than not, someone or several someones significantly more profound than me already uttered a similar sentiment, if not almost those exact words.  While I'm aware that it probably is arrogant at best to quote oneself for inspiration, I think the idea behind these words is pretty important.

When I was in my twenties I spent a lot of time worrying and fretting.  Would I be successful in my career?  When would I get married?  Would I get married at all?  How would I meet the man I'd marry?  JEEZ.  I get tired just thinking about all that fretting.  For the record, I have done quite well in my career, and at 40 years old, I have never been married.  Sometimes I feel sad about my marital status, but other times I am just fine with it and at other times am quite happy about it, frankly.

So exactly what did all that worrying do for me?  One could argue that worrying made me work harder for my career success, but I doubt that.  I've always worked hard, and I enjoy what I do, so it rarely feels like work, anyway.  Another justifying thought is that the twenties are an insecure time for many people, and worrying is pretty normal.  Fair enough.  However, I truly believe all that worrying did absolutely nothing for me.  No wait, I do think it made me miss out on at least a little bit of the carefree fun that can fill the decade right after college.

I had this revelation about my behavior and mental state in my twenties about ten years ago and decided that one of the very few regrets I have is not having more fun back then.  Well, recently, I discovered that old habits die hard.  I don't worry nearly as much as I used to, and I am very well grounded and do appreciate all the good things in my life.  However, sometimes I find myself focusing on what I thought my life would like at this point (the aforementioned marriage, the children I thought I'd have even though I never have been really super certain I wanted kids), and I realize that I when I do that, I turn a blind eye what's going on in the moment.

I don't know about yours, but my life is really, really fun, and I don't want to miss a minute of it because I'm focusing on the fact that I haven't yet had and may never have opportunity to spend years changing diapers or negotiating house chores with a roommate to whom I'm legally bound (and yes, presumably in love with).  Don't get me wrong, I'd still like to get married one day, and I have nothing against children, but until then, why not enjoy all that I already have and let the future work itself out?

Wise words for today and everyday, I hope.

(By the way, I hope this post doesn't come off as overly self-righteous or annoying; that's not generally my style or intent.)

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Have you heard?  A little team known as the San Francisco Giants won the World Series last night, beating the Texas Rangers in the Series four games to one.  The Giants have not won a World Series since the 1950's... when they were still the New York Giants.  And the last time they tried, in the 2002 World Series against the Anaheim Angels, it was particularly heartbreaking (especially for me since I hate the Angels).

This year things are different.  The 2010 Giants were the serious underdogs of the playoffs and have been called "scrappy" and "misfits."  However, when you get right down to it, they're simply a good team.  San Franciscans have been waiting a long time for this victory, and parties broke out in the streets after Giants closer (and my boyfriend) Brian Wilson struck out the Rangers Nelson Cruz in the bottom of the 9th inning to end the game and the Series.  As the night wore on, the street parties got a little rowdy and out of hand, but for the most part they stayed sane.

As for me, after the game I went to the Beatles karaoke-sing along event that I go to every first Monday of the month.  I have to admit, in comparison to celebrating the World Series, singing Beatles songs in a bar/cafe was a little boring (can you believe I said that?).  So I left early.  At that point I wasn't about to go looking for a street party to join, but I didn't want to go home either, so I went to a regular karaoke bar nearby, thinking it might be a little more lively, and it was.  Slightly, anyway.  But it was energized by enough patrons donning orange and black that I stayed to sing a couple of songs before heading home.

And now that San Francisco has won the World Series, all I have to do is wait through the excruciating late Fall and Winter months until baseball begins again.