So Wrong, But Oh, So Right

Okay, I might officially be a huge geek.

I have mentioned on this space before that I rarely, if ever, see movies in the theatre. The only film I've seen on the big screen this year is Juno, and that was back in January. And frankly, I can't recall if I set foot in a movie theatre at all last year.

Well, my 2008 tally is about to double because the Sex and the City movie comes out tomorrow, and you bet I'm going to see it. In fact, I am going tomorrow night. And I already have my tickets.

That's right, I purchased tickets in advance. For a movie.

I will, in fact, be spending more than two hours on a Friday night, prime cocktailing time, in a dark theatre.

This isn't like me, but it's Sex and the City, for cryin' out loud. Maybe I'm the cliche of an urban single girl, but wild horses wouldn't keep me away from this film. I was feeling a little embarrassed by my advanced ticket purchase until I learned that my friend Megan is going to see Sex and the City tonight at midnight. Plus my coworkers Christine, Angela and (the other) Christine all have an enthusiasm for the film similar to mine.

So at least cosmo-swilling geekiness loves company.

***Edited on May 30th to add*** What a shame the movie turned out to be such a disappointment. It doesn't do the series justice. However, before the film, I saw one woman slap another... hard... because she thought the second woman had taken her seat in the theatre. Needless to say, the slapper was removed and the police were called. This at an 8:30 p.m. screening of Sex and the City in San Francisco, the city of peace, love and happiness.

Fifteen Pounds of Bacon

Everyone has traditions. Some people take the same vacations every year; some stick to the same holiday rituals. As for me, one of my traditions is to attend Tom, Chris and Nick's annual Memorial Day weekend barbecue. They've had eleven so far, and I've been to every one.

Between the three of them, Tom, Chris and Nick generally invite about 400 people to this party, ensuring it is always a well attended affair. Snacks are plentiful; libations flow; and kids and pets are always a hit. Easily the most popular guest this year was the puppy pictured above with Elena, Dave, Katya and Eric. That dog probably got more love than all us other partiers combined.

The rest of us did have fun, too. And as the afternoon became the evening, several things happened: it got a little chilly (read: downright cold); we continued imbibing with everything from vodka punch to beer to hot toddies available; Roach, Tom and I posed for this photo; and Kevin threw fifteen pounds of bacon on the grill.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Apparently, another guest brought bacon to last year's party (I have no idea); so Kevin took upon himself to make sure this year's soiree was similarly stocked. After finding a $100 bill on the street, he spent 44 of those found dollars on fifteen pounds of bacon purchased from a Mission butcher. Don't worry, he didn't try to cook it all at once. The bacon was grilled in the very civilized manner one would expect of barbecued bacon. I have to admit, it looked kind of gross, but it tasted delicious.

There are occasions when I always seem to eat things I never would otherwise, like hot dogs at baseball games. And barbecued bacon at Tom, Chris and Nick's party.

The Sub Rosas Take the Mission

We came, we saw, we rocked the house.

Okay, not really. Given that the Sub Rosas play music more of the emo/indie and pop genres, there was no rocking involved at all. The closest we came was getting our legions of fans to bop on their barstools and even dance a little to our renditions of "Someday, Someway" and "Different Drum." That's close to rocking the house, isn't it?

Whether we "rocked" or not, the Sub Rosas debuted at the Blondie's Volume One Music Showcase on Monday night. No three-song open mic appearance here; this was a full 40-minute set gig. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed in our performance, but it's possible I'm being overly critical. Especially since Doug, who joined us on bass, hadn't really practiced prior to 24 hours before the show. Given that, we probably did really, really well.

Rosa sang several of her original songs and one cover, while I played the role of a low-rent, indie-type American Idol contestant by singing only cover tunes. It's because I don't write music. Yet. You never know what might happen tomorrow. As I mentioned, Doug played bass, and Jackie generously offered us some lead guitar lines.

Regardless of what I thought of the performance, the audience loved us. Yes, the audience was mostly comprised of our friends, and a few of my friends were drunk, but still. We'll take the love. I will tell you that after our set, I was approached a random guy who wanted to know when our next gig was or if we have a MySpace page. Embarrassed that my answers to those questions were "I have no idea" and "Um... no," respectively, I took the guy's email address and promised to add him to our mailing list.

I guess I have to start a Sub Rosas' mailing list.

Regardless, given that he was a stranger, I'd call that guy our first official fan. Yay! Unfortunately, I'm serious when I say that I don't know when the Sub Rosas will perform again. Or if we'll perform together again.

In the meantime, I'm headed back to the open mic circuit, bolstered by the knowledge that I, as a member of the Sub Rosas, have one fan.

The Best Policy?

Sometimes being honest is quite the challenge.

I should know this already, as my tendency to be honest actually has gotten me into trouble in the past. In fact, it caused a whole bunch of drama about three years ago, but that's another story. (For the record, I stand by my choice to be upfront and honest in that situation.)

Anyway, this particular tale involves money. A major, upscale department store, which shall remain nameless so as not to embarrass anyone, seems to think I have a credit on my charge card bill, when, in fact, I owe them money. It's kind of complicated and not exactly an exciting story, but it boils down to a swim suit I bought for my recent trip to Hawaii. The suit is quite lovely, and I wore it very well in Waikiki. For reasons of pre-sales and gift cards, I ended up getting said swim suit for just $45.26, down from $96. Yay! However, due to a mistake made during the convoluted sequence of pre-sale charging, returning and re-charging to accommodate my gift cards, the store has not only forgiven my actual debt but has credited me $43.28.

Now, I imagine many people would just take the credit and run. I believe this because I was tempted to do that, myself. After all, it wasn't my mistake; I got my bill and trusted it to be accurate. However, in the end (or at the beginning, I perhaps should say), I decided that I should be honest and not allow this store to pay me for donning a new swim suit on a Hawaiian beach.

The first thing I did was call the 1-800 number on my bill. I carefully (and charismatically, if I do say so, myself) explained the situation to the agent who answered the phone. She understood where the mistake had been made but didn't know how to fix it. After thanking me for my honesty, she put me on hold so she could ask her supervisor what to do. When she returned to the line, she told me that there was nothing that could be done at billing headquarters since apparently, this was a mistake made at the store. So I'd have to go there and clear everything up in person.

I bet at this point you're hoping I just decided to take the credit. Nope, no such luck.

This afternoon (my last weekday off before my work schedule changes, by the way), I trotted over to the upscale department store to explain the error. It didn't go quite so well this time. A tiny language barrier forced much repetition of my story, and the customer service rep still thought I was trying to tell him I should have a bigger credit. When I finally was able to explain clearly that I actually owe the store money and would like to pay it, he told me not to.

Not yet, anyway.

In this man's opinion, it is "likely" that the error will correct itself. How, I'm not sure, and I don't think he knows, either. Regardless, I am to wait through another billing cycle, and if I still have a credit, I can come back to the store and have it fixed. He did tell me he'd never had a customer come to his desk to correct a billing mistake made in her favor. I guess he'll tell me that again if/when he sees me in 30 days.

Being honest certainly can require of degree of tenacity. And it can give you a headache.

Some Kind of Monday

Have you ever asked for something really good, gotten it and then felt overwhelmed? Almost like you're in shock?

Just wondering.

Romy and Michele Have Nothing On Us

Twenty years ago this June, I put on a beautiful white dress, carried a bouquet of flowers and.... graduated from high school. (Well, what did you expect me to write?) This weekend, members of Polytechnic School's Class of 1988, many of us pictured in this post, gathered at our alma mater in Pasadena to celebrate our 20-year reunion. And it wasn't just about high school. Poly, as we call it, is a private prep school; so many of us, like me, spent most of our secondary education there. I put in 11 years at Poly, from 2nd through 12th grade, and literally grew up with my classmates. There is something really great about connecting with people who have known you since you were seven. Some of these people I still see and talk to regularly; others I haven't seen since the last reunion. Or since they left Poly back in the 80's.

Just to make sure my reunion experience was as authentically high school as possible, my skin decided to break out. Okay, it wasn't that bad, and I'm probably the only one who even noticed my blemishes, but still. How appropriate. Otherwise, I'll risk arrogance and tell you that I looked great, especially compared to my overweight adolescent self. It's so nice that adulthood lasts so much longer than our teen years. Especially if you look better as you get older.

The reunion began with courtyard cocktails and mingling. Actually, there had been a picnic earlier in the day, but I skipped that. As I told many of my classmates, I saw no need to begin my reunion until the liquor started flowing. After cocktails, there were class pictures and then dinner. Officially, the reunion ended after dinner, but do you think we Class of '88 partiers stopped there? Oh, no. Once dinner was done, many of us took off for the bar at the former Huntington Hotel (I'm not sure what they're calling that hotel this week).

It was at the Huntington that our collective composure really loosened up, as you can perhaps tell from the composition of this particular photograph. Champagne and wine flowed, enlightenment was shared and bonds were strengthened. As Saturday night turned into Sunday morning, the crowd thinned, but the party didn't die. Those of us who closed down the reunion (that would be Gabriella, Vince, Ella, Bobby, John and myself) finally wrapped things up at about 3:45 a.m.

That's right, a bunch of near 40-year olds out until almost 4:00 in the morning. Does it get better than that? I think not. The drinking aside, of course, high school itself should be this much fun.

First Stop: Tiki Ti

I mentioned before that I planned to take a little mini-vacation to L.A. this month, right?

Well, that's where I now am. I arrived yesterday afternoon and will be in the Southland until Sunday morning. What has brought me to the City of Angels this time around is my 20-year(!) high school reunion in Pasadena. There are several reunion activities scheduled, but I likely will only attend the cocktail and dinner parties on Saturday night. I should probably go to everything, given that I'm on the reunion committee, but there's only so much high school I can take. I liked high school and all, and it will be nice to see my old classmates, but really, now.

One thing I already have done is pay a mandatory visit to Tiki Ti. Tiki Ti is a teeny, tiny tropical drinks bar on Sunset that I was introduced to a year ago by a Bay Area acquaintance. These days it doesn't exactly look like it did in this 1961 photo, but it's still in the same location and still offers dozens upon dozens of different tropical drinks. But no beer or wine, so don't bother asking. My sister Fabulous Patti and I went last night and enjoyed Lemonhead cocktails, as well as the excellent Tiki Ti atmosphere. I love it there.

Tonight I'm going to see the Morning Benders at the Echo. The Morning Benders are a Bay Area band I really like, but I haven't managed to see them up north. So I've traveled 350 miles to finally check them out. A friend of mine (and by "friend," I mean a guy I met at the Good Luck Bar the last time I was in L.A.) who works at the Echo put me on the guest list for tonight's show. So I get the pleasure of music for free. Yay!

Other than the Morning Benders and my reunion, I suspect it's going to be a pretty mellow visit. Several of the friends I usually see when I come to town are otherwise engaged this weekend, and I kind of feel like laying low, anyway. My sister and I want to check out the 4100 Bar, also on Sunset, but we'll see if we get there. I intend to go shopping this afternoon for a reunion outfit, but I feel a nap coming on.

Once I get back to the City by the Bay, it will be all about rehearsals. The big Sub Rosas show is coming up on 19th, and we have to make sure we're ready.

Seriously, Why Isn't Life a Beach?

So here I am, home safely after eight glorious days in Honolulu. And my question for you is: why? The lovely photo to the left is Waikiki Beach in the late afternoon. I snapped a whole bunch of shots like this one because the reflection of the setting sun on the water is just so beautiful. How could any sane person leave that?

Well, I have no idea because I did leave, but I certainly had a blast while I was there. I think my vacation can best be summarized using the following categories: exercise, beach, food and singing.

Exercise. I know I've mentioned this before, but it bears repeating... there is nothing more lovely than a morning run on a tropical island. Every day of my vacation began with a jog or visit to the hotel gym. The outdoor runs were a little more satisfying than the gym, given that it is always warm by 7 a.m. in Hawaii. Living in San Francisco, I'm not accustomed to running in 75-degree temperatures or higher before noon. But I certainly enjoyed it.

Beach. Every time I go to Hawaii I threaten to move there. What stops me is the idea that if I lived there, I likely would have to get a job and have a life that didn't necessarily revolve around laying on a beach and playing in the ocean all day long. There are never enough hours in a day for the beach. After my morning endorphin rush, I'd wash up, slather on the sunscreen and head for the waves. And most early evenings found me walking along the water as the sun set. Should I ever write a personal ad, I could say that I enjoy walks along the beach and actually mean it.

Food. There was a lot of food, and I ate it all. Yum.

Singing. So I mentioned in the previous post that my mother found some Waikiki karaoke. It's every night at the Shore Bird, in case you're wondering. However, in addition to that, my friend Emily and I stumbled upon a karaoke room nestled inside a bar in the basement of our hotel. The bar itself was pretty horrifying, but the karaoke room was great. Singing set us back $1 per song, but it was so worth it. On Monday night we stuffed the machine with $30 and sang our hearts out. After a more traditional karaoke experience at the Shore Bird on Tuesday, we were back in the basement karaoke room on Wednesday night, our last night. We didn't sing as many songs on Wednesday, at least I didn't, but we still gave our inner rock stars a work out. Emily has told me several times since our Monday marathon that she doesn't think she knows anyone else who would have been game to sing for so long with her. Good thing she recently started doing karaoke with me.

I suppose there could be other categories to describe my vacation activities, like boys. They were everywhere, but none were really that interesting to me. Emily had a field day (or days), but I wasn't really into any of the boys we met. Another indication that when I go to Hawaii, it's all about the beach. Also, while San Francisco may have cold, bitter beaches, the boy selection here is rather lovely.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end, including vacations, and yesterday saw my return to the Bay. Before bidding Oahu farewell, I took a run/walk and strolled along the beach one last time. That's where I posed for this self portrait. I wasn't as sad to leave as I usually am, but I think that's because I'm going back to Hawaii in just four and a half short months. Yay! Also, now that my vacation is over, I can move on to my mini-vacation next week. That's right, next Wednesday I head to L.A. for jogs along Los Feliz Boulevard, live music in Echo Park and my 20-year(!) high school reunion in Pasadena.

And after that, we have the Sub Rosas show! Then, Tom and Chris' annual Memorial Day barbecue, as well as the Black and White Ball. Lots of good things happening in May, and when they're all done, I'll be that much closer to my next Hawaii get-away.

Notes From A Beach

I haven't even been in Hawaii for 24 full hours, but already I have tidbits to share.

1. It took less than three hours from the time my plane touched down for some man twice my age to hit on me. At 38, I'm no spring chicken, myself, but I have to wonder what a man who looks 70 thinks he's going to get out of chatting me up. Seriously. He was polite and nice enough, but really, now.

2. The first thing Diva Mommy and I did upon my arrival was hit the patio at Duke's Canoe Club. I landed at 3:15, and we were seated at Duke's with lava flows in hand by 4:45. Plus, our very favorite Waikiki live musician was playing. Yay! He played "Beyond the Sea" for me, even though he doesn't really know it. It sounded good to me; so I was happy.

3. Later in the evening, the Diva and I found ourselves at another beachfront bar/restaurant, and the musicians there treated us to a rendition of Joe Jackson's "Is She Really Going Out With Him" between Lynyrd Skynyrd and Neil Diamond covers. I didn't know whether to be happy or horrified at the inclusion of Joe Jackson, but I sang along. (Besides, "Is She Really Going Out With Him" is being used in the commercials for a really terrible-looking Patrick Dempsey movie. So if I'm going to be horrified, I should probably start there.)

4. Diva Mommy has found me some Waikiki karaoke! Oh, little does the sweet Diva, who was a professional singer in her day, know. It was getting kind of late by the time the karaoke began, but not too late for me to warble through "Different Drum" and make a whole bunch of friends in the mere three minutes it took for me to sing it. Don't think I won't be back there for a few hundred more tunes.

Okay, that's all for now. I have my new bathing suit on, and the beach awaits....

The Countdown Begins

Less than 24 hours from now, I will be here, basking in some serious Aloha spirit.

Do you need anything from Waikiki? A lava flow from Duke's Canoe Club, perhaps? How about if I take a dip in the warm Pacific and soak up some sunshine for you? I'll be sure to tell Diva Mommy you say hello, and when Emily arrives on Sunday night, we'll party in your honor.

Or you could come along. Think about it...

Dance Party USA

Little did Chris, Tom, Andrey, Angela, Joey, Phil, Terry and I know when we gathered at the Attic last night, we soon would find ourselves in the middle of an out and out dance party. I'm not talking a few folks bopping to the music over their cocktails. I mean clothing layers thrown aside, beers ignored and abandon embraced as people shook their groove things and got waaay down.

Even though I have proclaimed the Attic to be one of my favorite bars these days, I am still a newbie there. It's my understanding that they have DJ's every night of the week, and I am learning just how varied the music styles spun by these mad turntable scientists can be. When my friends and I began to trickle in at about 8:00, the man providing the music was playing indie rock tunes seeming to befit a semi-dive bar in the Mission. It was the perfect soundtrack for our imbibing and chatting.

However, a couple of hours later, after several of us went on a much-needed burrito run, the beat had changed, and what there is of a makeshift dance floor had come alive. The music was a mix of cool classic soul played alongside awful top 40 and techno/disco. It was all just so oddly schizophrenic: I'd be enjoying one song only to have my buzz killed by the next. However, the hipster version of American Bandstand taking over the place didn't care in the least. The crowd was loving every note and eating it all up. Even if I didn't dance, myself, or particularly like the music, the energy of the place was pretty great.

So a few cheesy songs hasn't dampened my Attic love, and it's good to know that a relatively small, dark bar can turn into a buzzing discotheque at a moment's notice.

This afternoon I went to Berkeley to rehearse with Rosa and Jackie for the upcoming Sub Rosas show. Things are coming along, but suffice it to say, I'm quite glad the show isn't happening for a few weeks.

This is why we practice.

Working On Material

One of the great things about living in San Francisco is that occasionally you can, if you're quick enough to get tickets before they're scooped up by others, see Robin Williams live, as he tests out new material at Bimbo's 365 Club.

Well, I was fast enough this time, and that's what Denise, Paul, Carolyn and I did tonight. Robin was, of course, hysterical, and the historic, intimate Bimbo's was the perfect venue. So much fun.

The show tonight was an excellent end to a lovely day that saw me take a nearly six mile run/walk (I ran four miles, walked just under two), get a much-needed haircut, and day drink in the sunshine at Zeitgeist with Bill, Katie and Steve. What's better than Wednesday afternoon Chimay and hard cider on Zeitgeist's beer patio? Nothing.

Well, maybe seeing Robin Williams live later in the evening is a tiny bit better.

(Psst., guess what? Just one week until Hawaii! Emily and I are going to rule Waikiki. Yay!)

Music That's Making Me Happy Today, vol 36

Nick Lowe at the Fillmore

I've always liked and respected Nick Lowe, but over the years our relationship has been of the casual variety. "Cruel To Be Kind" enjoys a strong rotation on my iPod, but I only own one album (Jesus of Cool). However, after seeing him this weekend, I am officially in love. And certainly ready to make a serious commitment.

Imagine a brilliant songwriter, a guitar and you, safely nestled with a few other fans at a legendary San Francisco rock club. Now, imagine yourself surrounded for about 90 minutes by a sea of perfectly crafted three-minute pop songs. My new music boyfriend, Nick, is touring with Robyn Hitchcock, but I have to admit, I can take Robyn or leave him. He's a good songwriter, too, I suppose, but nothing to write home about (sorry, Robyn).

Nick serenaded me, Bill, Kim and Katie, along with the rest of the crowd, for over an hour, and when he ended with "What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love and Understanding," (yes, made famous by Elvis Costello but written by Nick), I was so happy, I was near tears. For an encore, Nick brought Robyn back and they treated the audience to several cover tunes, including the Beatles' "If I Fell." Then sadly, the lights started to come up, and the house music began to play.

Not so fast.

Forget about little, lovesick me, Nick quickly learned that he couldn't just just walk out on the dozens of stoned Baby Boomers and their Gen X friends who populated the Fillmore that night. About five minutes of continuous cheering and clapping later, we had all succeeded in bullying Nick Lowe back onstage for two more songs. I don't think I've ever seen a second encore begin after the house lights and music had come up.

He may be almost 60, but nonetheless I repeat, Nick Lowe is my new music boyfriend.

Another new boyfriend of mine is DJ El Guapo, the man in charge of Teenage Kicks at the Attic. Tom and I took residence on a couple of barstools there on Friday night, and it was a delicious experience. Once the music started, poor Tom had to deal with me repeatedly stopping the conversation mid-sentence to bop my head to the beat and proclaim how happy I was. I didn't even know most of the songs Mr. Guapo (okay, his real name is Victor) played, but I loved them all just the same. The songs I did know were choice, too, including the Records' "Starry Eyes," which you never hear anywhere these days. I probably scared Victor a little bit because I had to gush over his song choices more than once, but everyone likes having a fan, right?

I think Teenage Kicks happens the second Friday of every month. Well, whenever it is, I intend to be there for it.

The Best Laid Plans

Remember when I said this afternoon that I was going to go running... in the opposite direction of the Olympic Torch. (You don't? Scroll down; it's at the end of my previous post.) Well, I did just that. Or so I thought.

About 15 minutes into said run, I encountered a closed street. Why was the street closed you ask? That's right: the Torch. Officials aborted their original route plan and took the Torch directly across my running route. The bad news is that the spectacle delayed my run by about 15 minutes or so, and I never regained my momentum. As a consequence, I ended up going on a shorter "run" than planned and walked most of it.

The good news is that I did see the Torch in person. Without all the mayhem. I will say, however, that had I gone down to the Embarcadero, as originally planned, and waited for hours to see a Torch that never showed up, I'd have been highly irate. Just like I bet a lot of people were.

The Little Things

Sometimes little things make me very happy.

Case in point: hearing "Echo Beach" by Martha and the Muffins on my gym's sound system yesterday. I don't know who is in charge of the music at my fancy workout den or what satellite system they subscribe to, but when I hear a little New Wave ditty like that as I'm doing ab exercises, it makes me feel like all is right with the world.

Unfortunately, my music high was cut short when I later heard Men at Work and Greg Kihn's "Jeopardy." Ick. But all was okay again when the Go-Go's "Our Lips Are Sealed" wafted through the space surrounding the free weights, cardio machines and fitness addicts. While I'm always armed with an iPod full of my own song choices when I work out, it's still nice to see (or hear) the whole gym filled with good music taste.

Again, sometimes it's just the little things.

In just a few minutes the Olympic Torch relay will begin in San Francisco, and I was going to walk down to the Embarcadero to check it out. I've seen the Olympic Torch in person once before, when the relay took it right by my house in Pasadena for the 1984 Los Angeles Summer Games. However, between the protests and general hoopla this time around, I think I'm all "torched" out. So even though it will be happening only a couple of miles away, I'm going to watch the beginning of the relay on television and then head out for my own run. In the opposite direction of the torch.

And then tonight, I sing! Three jingle jangle pop songs, one open jam in the Mission and no waiting. Yay!

Fancy Parties and Candy

I wish my life consisted of nothing but the above.

Okay, not really. But sort of. Well, last week I did my best to dabble in both, as I attended a fancy party and checked out the new Candy Bar.

The fancy party was a preview reception on Wednesday for the San Francisco Symphony's Black and White Ball. Have you ever been to the Black and White Ball? That is one super fancy party, and it is ridiculously fun. Sometimes certain parts of the affair can be overly crowded, and they seemed to run out of food at the Ball a few years ago, but I believe those kinks have been worked out. To that end, I am very much looking forward to this year's Ball. It can get kind of cold, too, given that much of the party happens outside, but that never bothers me too much.

Denise came with me to the preview reception, which in and of itself, wasn't all that fancy. However, we did enjoy the free cocktails and sparkling wine, as well as some free snacks. That's pretty much fancy enough for me. I think we had more cocktails than snacks, though. At least I know I did because I definitely needed the Thai food we found for dinner in the Mission after the party.

I think I'm becoming kind of a lightweight in my old age.

The following evening Kara and I went to Candy Bar, a new wine and dessert bar on Fulton Street. While there is no actual candy to be found at Candy Bar, I tried the dessert tasting menu and was very satisfied. Kara stayed healthy and had savory snacks, like asparagus and hard boiled eggs. They were also yummy. We didn't try any of Candy Bar's wine, sipping sparkling water instead, but the wine did look delicious. I guess I'll just have to go back.

Tonight I'm meeting Joey at Thirsty Bear for a flamenco show. Yes, you read that correctly. I'll let you know how that works out for us. I definitely am looking forward to the small plates and micro-brews.

Oh, one more thing: is it a problem that I had a dream that the boy I kissed last weekend is gay? Okay, probably. Now, I'm certain this gentleman is not gay, but the dream likely was my subconscious reminding me that, for a couple of reasons, he may not be the most appropriate match for me. But he was so pretty... just so, so pretty. And a very nice guy, too. Ah, well. Dreaming he was gay may have been a little wrong, but the real life kissing was very right.

Happiness Is....

... a warm puppy?
... all the jelly beans you can eat?
... Waikiki Beach?
... a three-minute jingle, jangle pop song?
... a day at the spa?
... the start of baseball season?

It could be any of those things, but I have to say that to me, happiness is my life overall right now. I'm good at keeping things in perspective and remembering that I have led a fairly privileged life, but that doesn't mean I can't find something to mope about. I can and will, if provoked. Go ahead and try me. However, I woke up this morning, or perhaps it was another recent morning, and realized that everything is going really well. Yay!

Nothing terribly earth-shattering has happened lately, just a lot of little positives. My singing habit is flourishing, as I continue to test the Bay Area open mic circuit (and remember, the Sub Rosas have an upcoming gig). Plus, last weekend Rosa and I made a recording of some of the songs I've been singing. The recording is pretty rudimentary, and I'm no recording engineer, but the good news is that I'm not horrified by what I hear when it comes to my vocals. I'm still an amateur, and I definitely need to keep up my singing lessons, but I'm getting better everyday. I've always had a decent voice, but given what I sounded like a year and a half ago when this singing endeavor began, I'm very happy with my progress.

Work is going well, too, and my work schedule has allowed me some free weekend nights lately. I spent Sunday night at the Attic with Carolyn and Dima, and it was super fun. I make no money hanging out at the Attic, but I had worked earlier in the day, so it was the best of both worlds.

There are also cute boys everywhere these days. Everywhere. No salacious stories, necessarily, but suffice it to say I'm in a pretty good mood where boys are concerned. And of course, there is my upcoming trip to Hawaii. Just thinking about that is a guaranteed pick me up. All of this is to say that, as we make our way through the spring, these are good days.

Unfortunately, something not so good has happened to a friend of mine. I was hoping I would wake up today to find it had all been an elaborate April Fool's joke, but no such luck. He'll be fine, but still. Sucky. Happiness is not watching your friends go through rocky times.

The Road to Rock Stardom

This is what I believe I would look like if I were a rock star.

While it is very unlikely I actually will become a rock star, or any kind of music star, I am one step closer. I don't want to jinx anything by telling you too much, but... The Sub Rosas have a gig! I'm not talking three songs at an open mic or playing for my co-workers at Doug's house; I mean a real, honest to goodness gig. With a full set and (theoretically) people we don't know in the audience. This may prove to be The Sub Rosas last dying breath as Rosa moves on to other projects, but still. What a way to go.

Again, I don't want to risk ruining everything by spilling too many beans, but suffice it to say a date has been confirmed with the venue, and Rosa and I will soon go about the business of creating our playlist. I'll update you on this anticipated moment in music history as more particulars are solidified. And if you know me personally, I'll expect to see you there.

(I am so excited!)

On an unrelated topic, I am exhausted today. I went to a super fun party last night and stayed up way too late. Let me tell you, after being out until about 2 a.m., 8:15 came awfully early this morning. I was smart enough not to drink, though. So I'm only fatigued, as opposed to hungover. How much fun was this party? I have two words for you: bunny dance. Make of that what you will (but this is still me, so nothing terribly dirty is involved).

Like 1997 Again

Well, it's not exactly like 1997, but sort of.

When I first moved to San Francisco, Blondie's in the Mission was my very favorite bar. It had quite the neighborhood feel eleven years ago, and I recall spending many a Saturday night sipping pint sized lemon drops and listening to live swing bands alongside Mission denizens. I also met a couple of really cute boys there back in the day, and that was enough to keep me coming back again and again. Plus, I became friends with the owner, Nikki, who is super nice.

I didn't live in the Mission, myself, however. I had come to Blondie's from another neighborhood, as would many, many people over the next several years. By, say, 2001 or 2002, the weekend crowd at Blondie's had grown exponentially, and the bar had lost it's live music license, meaning no more bands. The bowling shirt clad gentlemen who previously had filled the place were nowhere to be found; replaced by overgrown frat boys and the lingering happy hour crowd who now bounce to the beat of far too much hip hop and house music. So I turned my attention to other San Francisco watering holes.

Well, I just may become a Blondie's regular again, at least one day a week. Nikki got her live music license back about four years ago, and last month, Rosa and I made an appearance at Blondie's Wednesday night open mic. Then last night, I was back. Sadly, as I mentioned before on this space, Rosa's unforgiving work schedule is keeping her away from open mics these days, but thanks to the magic of Craigslist, I have found another guitarist.

With my barstool fan club of Suzanne and Zeina cheering me on, and several members of the house band joining in on my three-song "set," I treated the crowd to renditions of the Beatles, Icicle Works (again) and the Stone Poneys. Plus, thanks to some lucky timing, I think the bar was most crowded while I was singing, and people were actually paying attention. I even got the weirdo-chic punk hippy who had performed before me to sing along while he gave me a beer bottle salute. That, in my opinion, is a serious accomplishment.

I'll be back in two weeks, armed with more three minute pop songs. And there just may come a time when, if you want to find me on a Wednesday night, the open mic stage at Blondie's will be the only place you need look.

Hopping Down the Bunny Trail

I have a jelly bean hangover.

Actually, it's possible I am still riding a sugar high from the 16 pounds of Easter candy I have eaten today. It's been just so delicious.

In addition to my champion sweets consumption, I have established an Easter tradition: brunch at the Rex Cafe in Russian Hill. Little did I know in 2001, the first year I organized Easter brunch with my friends, that this would be become a not-to-be-missed event. Some years see more brunchers than others, but it's always a good party. We had a relatively small group this time around, with Tom, Suzanne, Steve, Katie and me gathering for mid-afternoon snacks and drinks. I brought the Easter basket, as always, and a good time was had by all.

Well, it's possible Suzanne had one bad moment when the waitress spilled a mimosa on her, but other than that, it was good time for everyone.

After brunch, I took a tiny nap, and now here I am at work. I like having a work schedule that allows me to celebrate a holiday before coming in to earn my paycheck. When I got here, I found a tiny marshmallow-Rice Krispie Easter treat left for me by my co-worker Megan. It was shaped like a bird's nest with chocolate eggs in the middle. Yum.

Did I mention that I've eaten 16 pounds of candy today?

Hey, guess what? One month from today I will be back in Hawaii. Yippee! I am so excited for the warm sun, my morning jogs, the beach and all the lava flow cocktails I anticipate drinking. And of course I'll get to see Diva Mommy. Plus, Emily is going to join me for about half of the trip. I'm also talking to Tom about coming, and he just may do it. Maybe. If you happen to be interested in a serious Waikiki party, let me know.

I suppose it probably wasn't a wise idea to load up on candy one month before I have to don a bathing suit, but oh, well. Happy Easter, anyway!