You Want Something To Do? Sing A Song Or Two...

Gosh, remember when I used to update this little chronicle twice a week without fail? I'm not sure if my life is less interesting now, and as a consequence, I'm not inspired to write, or if perhaps it's more interesting, and I don't have as much time to write.

Actually, I probably can blame Facebook for my lack of blog attention. I am addicted to that silly little website and tend to provide a running record of my activities through status updates and photographs. That, however, is no good excuse for neglecting this sassy space. So this all begs the question: what have I been doing lately? Well.... a bunch of stuff, I suppose. I work, I exercise, I socialize. Last Sunday night I celebrated Carolyn and Dima's birthdays with them and other friends at Doc's Clocks in the Mission. The next night I went to see my musician friend Pat play a mini-set at the 500 Club after I finished work. Last night I saw Souvenir at A.C.T., which was pretty good. Not great, but not bad either.

I've also been singing some songs, myself. I borrowed the title of this post from the band Bette Serveert. The actual lines from their song "Rudder" are: "You want something to do; Make a record or two", but I haven't made any records. A little open mic and karaoke is all I can offer. I've decided, for various reasons, to stop doing the Wednesday night open jam at Blondie's. Believe it or not, the man with no teeth sitting at the bar right in front of the stage the last time I sang there has nothing to do with that decision. For all that I have a history with Blondie's (I deemed it my first favorite bar in the City back in 1997), that open jam isn't the right venue for me. There's still the Black Magic Voodoo Lounge every other Sunday, and I'm on the lookout for more interesting open mic opportunities.

My karaoke habit also continues. On Valentine's Day, I celebrated the day of love with Maya, Ash, Suzanne and Eric at the Mint. We sang a bunch of songs, and I was there for almost six hours. It was jam-packed by the time I left, but I'd gotten to sing four songs by that point, which is damn good for the Mint. There also were some cute (and I believe heterosexual) guys there, but I was so busy choosing songs that I didn't talk to any of them. Have to rectify that next time. A mere four days later, I met Ash at Encore to warble a few more tunes. He's got a great voice, and I suspect he will become a regular karaoke buddy. And Mary Beth and I are talking about doing a little karaoke next week. Yes, karaoke is cheesy, but it's a good way to practice singing, and, frankly, it's fun.

I have a real singing rehearsal with Jackie tomorrow, as we prepare for our return to the Black Magic in a few weeks. Also, tomorrow is, of course, the Academy Awards. I already have snacks stocked and a demi-bottle of Veuve Clicquot chilling for the occasion. I have seen only two nominated films, Slumdog Millionaire and Milk, but I think that gives me plenty to root for.

Just Because...

... I've been such a slacker about keeping this space current, I offer you a quick update. But I must be quick.

I went to see In the Next Room at Berkeley Rep on Wednesday night, and it was nothing like I thought it would be. Not to say that I didn't enjoy it; the script was entertaining, and the acting was first rate. I have seen shows at Berkeley Rep that I've liked more, but this one wasn't bad at all.

My guitarist Jackie and I have been working out some "new" songs to add to our open mic repertoire. I have to put the word new in quotation marks because I don't write music; so none of the songs I sing actually are new. In fact, the tunes we've been working on are anywhere from 25 to 40 years old. Anyway, if you come see us, expect a little Monkees and some Bangles and Go-Go's album tracks. And possibly a Honey Cone song Jackie suggested. I'd never heard that one before, but it could be a lot of fun.

Finally, Teenage Kicks returned to the Attic on Friday, and it was, of course, fabulous. Even without Victor, who decided in December that he didn't want to DJ anymore. I had one too many Chimays, but that didn't ruin the experience... or the music... for me. I merely drank a big bottle of Perrier when I got home, and everything was fine.

Okay, that's the latest from here. I must scoot, as I'm meeting Christine for our bi-weekly cocktail and gossip session. There is a never ending supply of silly boys we must discuss; so I can't be late.

The Dating Game

There is a live action "Dating Game" now playing in San Francisco.

I'm not being ironic or anything like that; I'm being quite literal. A stage version of the old 70's game show happens weekly (or is it monthly?) at a little theatre space South of Market. I happen to think this is a most excellent idea. Their set is not quite as fancy as the set from the TV show, but it's a tough economy right now. We all do what we can. Anyway, the producers of this live action "Dating Game" solicit contestants any way they can, including on Craigslist, and treat the winners of the game to a complimentary round of drinks at the restaurant downstairs from the theatre. No, it's not three days and four nights in Palm Springs, but this is independent theatre and again, the economy.

Kurt and I went to this little show last night after attending an Ivy League alumni mixer (don't ask). We actually met a very nice woman at the mixer who thought the live "Dating Game" sounded fun and came with us. She may have come to regret that decision, however. Not that we did anything, and the producers of the show do a great job, but...

Well, the point of this little journal is most certainly not to disparage or publicly mock anyone, so I'll stick with what I liked about the show. The host was great; he had a ton of energy and was pretty funny. And the bachelor contestant who questioned the panel of bachelorettes in the second half was awesome. His questions were incredibly clever, and he was rather attractive. Actually, I didn't find him particularly attractive until he started asking those well written questions. It's amazing what a little wit can do for a guy. Plus, they sell beer and wine at the box office, so you can drink while you watch. Which may be for the best.

I know I just said that I don't use this space to disparage, but there was one point during the show in which I decided to give up dating, myself. Or sex. Or talking to men. Think what you will about the superficiality of Hollywood, but there is something to be said for the fact that many of the contestants on the original "Dating Game" were aspiring movie stars (like, for example, our current governor). That show was cheesy, but at least those contestants didn't scare you.

Just Another Reason To Love the City

There are a lot of reasons to love living in San Francisco: the culture, the architecture, the landscape, the Mission District, the cute bartenders at every corner. With big city glamour in such a convenient bayside package, it's no wonder Tony Bennett left his heart here.

However, perhaps one of the best things about San Francisco, in my opinion, anyway, is the politics. This city is unabashedly liberal, and I love that. Case in point: in what must have been the wee, wee hours of Inauguration Morning before the sun even rose, someone plastered over every white street sign along the entire four (or so) mile length of Bush Street with the word "Obama." It didn't last long; I believe city crews had the Obama stickers removed by late morning. But I saw most of them at 8:15 a.m., and it was brilliant that my commute to work that morning took me down Obama Street.

Apparently, this is kind of an old joke. Word is that in 1988 the Bush Street signs were plastered with Dukakis stickers. But Dukakis lost that election; so I can't imagine those stickers had quite the same effect. This time it was great, though. A new president and a street temporarily named for him? Good times, my friends.

After the emotion and celebration of President Obama's first hours in office, I headed to Pauline's Pizza for Chris' official birthday dinner. He'd had a bigger birthday party last weekend (see previous post), but Tuesday was the actual anniversary of his birth. I thanked Chris multiple times not only for being born, but for giving us a new president. Pizza was devoured, champagne was imbibed, and when all was said and done, we were quite satisfied, as evidenced by this photo of Nick, myself and Tom. Several of us then took off for an late evening Inauguration party, but I didn't stay long. I was suddenly tired (not to mention very full) and heard my bed calling me in full voice. But I went home happy and awoke the next morning still gleeful that we get say President Obama for the next four years.

Parties, Parties Everywhere

Well, now this has been a bit of a lively weekend.

On Friday night I reconnected with my dear friend Marissa. Marissa and I worked together years ago and had become quite good friends. However, for reasons that I cannot, for the life of me, identify, we drifted apart sometime around mid-2006 and hadn't seen each other since then. Not right at all. So we rectified the situation by meeting for cocktails at Sens and getting caught up. After two rather strong Sens martinis each and some unintended conversation with the genuinely crazy woman who sat down next to us, we went to Tony Nik's for a couple more drinks before calling it a night. Marissa truly is wonderful, and it's great to be back in touch with her.

Then last night I decided to pretend I was back in my twenties when I could easily and handily party hop. And party hop I did. The first affair was for Chris's 34th birthday. A bunch of us gathered at the Orbit Room to celebrate, and that's where this photo of Chris, Valerie and myself was snapped. So much fun. Then Kurt and I took off for his friend Sheila's birthday party. Unfortunately, that soiree was at a very crowded, very scene-y club South of Market, and neither Kurt nor I had very much fun there.

So we bolted and headed to Russian Hill where we joined the aforementioned Marissa, along with Bridget, Shannon and Anne, for fondue in honor of Shannon's birthday. I knew we'd made the right decision as soon as I walked into Bridget's apartment and heard "The Porpoise Song" by the Monkees pouring out of the stereo. They were only playing it because it was on the Vanilla Sky soundtrack, as opposed to spinning an actual Monkees record, but I'll take it. These girls had been partying all day; so Shannon began a little nap almost as soon as Kurt and I arrived. But the rest of us drank wine and bonded in her honor until about 2 a.m. Again, so much fun.

And if the parties this weekend weren't enough, the biggest party in eight years is coming up on Tuesday. Yippee!

The Beauty of Sleep

I, like many of you, I'm sure, am addicted to Facebook. That little social networking phenomenon has reconnected me with college and high school classmates and buddies, old co-workers and even former bosses. Not to mention providing yet another cyber-dimension for me and most of my current friends to play in. So a few days ago, when my Facebook friend and real-life acquaintance Andrew posted on the site that he had learned the value of a good night's sleep, I, of course, had to play along and comment. I not only agreed with him but confessed a bit of jealousy because I spent four days last week getting up at 3:30 a.m. for work.

The first morning I had to rise before the birds came as a surprise to me. You see, my co-worker Susan unexpectedly called in sick Tuesday morning, causing my phone to rudely awaken me at 3:30 and beckon me to my place of employment as soon as I could get there. As it turns out, Susan has fallen rather ill and ended up being out for the rest of the week; meaning every day by the mid-afternoon, I was told that I'd be returning the next morning at 4:00. For the record, I usually arrive at work at 9:45 a.m. That's a little different. Frankly, I don't know how Susan, or any of the early morning staff at work, keeps such a schedule. I couldn't even exercise for most of the week because my body clock was so screwed up.

All of this is to say that 2009 has gotten off to a bit of a slow start, as my temporary early morning work schedule prevented me from doing much. Also, some unexpected stress arose this past week. None of it is that big a deal; many, many people deal with much bigger problems than mine, but stress is stress. I did manage to join a bunch of friends to toast Devon on her last day of bartending at Joey and Eddie's in North Beach Thursday night, but I only stayed until 8:30. Am I a partier or what? On Friday, I met Bill, Kim, Terry and Suzanne for drinks at Tony Nik's, but that ended up being a relatively early evening, as well, even though it began the weekend.

And last night... ah, last night. After a late morning facial, afternoon laundry, grocery shopping, a run/walk and dinner, I had about an hour to lounge before needing to get dressed and head out to my friend Mike's birthday party. Well, that hour of lounging turned into a four hour nap, followed by an actual trip to bed about two and a half hours after that. Good times. I love birthday parties, too, and am sad to have missed the fun, but clearly, I needed the sleep and feel rather fresh this morning. Who wouldn't after a grand total of about eleven hours and a half hours of sleep?

So today I intend to be very productive before meeting Kurt and some of his friends for Sunday evening cocktails. I've become a big fan of the Sunday afternoon/evening cocktails. They're a great way to end the weekend before the grind begins again. Let's just hope I can sleep until my oh, so late, regular weekday waking hour of 6:30 a.m. this week.

Welcome to 2009!

I'm either a total rock star or a total moron.

You see, it's just after noon, and I'm wearing the same clothes and make-up I was wearing last night. Before you make any saucy assumptions, I'll tell you that there were no walks of shame this morning. I had to be at work at 6 a.m., so I slept at said job to accommodate some New Year's Eve celebrating.

Yes, you read that correctly.

When I learned that I'd be working early this morning, it occurred to me that maybe I should just stay in for New Year's. After all, New Year's Eve is always amateur night, anyway. Well, I guess I'm an amateur, too, because out I went... armed with a blanket and toothbrush to stash at work so my sleeping and early waking could be more comfortable. First, I went with Kurt to a house party thrown by a couple of his friends. That was much fun and featured snacks, champagne and a feisty round of Celebrity. But I figured I needed to be close to work as midnight approached; so at about 10:30 I took off for a bar near my place of employment (first dropping off the blanket and toothbrush).

You may be thinking, "Oh, dear lord, a bar on New Year's Eve?", but actually it was okay. I know the owners of this bar, and my friends Helen and Janelle were there, too. So one more glass of champagne and hugs all around helped me ring in twenty-oh-nine. And at 12:20 I was on my way, picking up snacks and caffeinated beverages before heading to work to get a little shut eye.

My co-worker Ted woke me at 6 o'clock this morning, and I was good to go. Again, in the same outfit and make-up I donned last night. But it's a good outfit, so at least I look cute. I'm not sure if I should be proud or embarrassed about my commitment to socializing, but you know, I'll only be sort-of-still-young-and-not-quite-40 once. Right?

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?