Shake it like a salt shaker

Well tonight I headed off to see November at the festival. Of course there was a party after. I just got over to VIP too late to see Ms. Cox.

I was bummed to learn that there is a party tomorrow night for director Taylor Hackford that I will not be able to attend because of work. Did I mention how much this working thing sucks? I think I should be able to attend the party on Friday night for Joan Allen though.

Back to tonight though. I owe one guy an email. I met his daughter. She is four years younger than I am. Another guy tried to invite me to an after party. This was after he paid for the drink I ordered at the bar. He felt that it was the least he could do after watching me on the dance floor. Another thing I forgot to mention ... I chose to wear my ultra lowrise bootcut leather pants with the strappy sandals with 4 inch heels. I like to think of it as my classy stripper -- oops, exotic dancer -- wear. Oh and before I forget, the party was held at Ruby Skye. I loved it until the last song when the dj chose to play "Red Red Wine." All I could think was, "Tonight a dj didn't save my life."

The real joy is that I have finally broken the chain. Tonight I was home by 1:20.

It's all Gloria's fault

Gloria has been procrastinating again. That means that she has spent loads of time shopping online and taking quizzes. I am slowly working my way through the quizzes on her latest post -- and no, I will not be buying her any skirts from Anthropologie.

Here are the results from the latest quiz. The results would be of no surprise to my mother. They were kind of a surprise for me though.

You Are 26 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

2:45 is the magic time

I am starting to notice a pattern here. Both Thursday and Sunday nights I arrived home at 2:45. I am going to yet another party tomorrow night. I hope to be home much earlier than 2:45 tomorrow.

After catching a couple of films yesterday, I headed over to one of my fave places in the Fillmore, Perry's Joint. The picture is for Gloria.


Coney Island Dog

The first film I caught, Mad Hot Ballroom, was great. You should all go out and see it. It opens sometime in May.

After stuffing my face at Perry's, I headed over to the Bubble Lounge for the Brad Bird party. I should have skipped the hot dog. There was sushi, shrimp, and caviar. There was also free wine and beer. I left there around 10 or so and ended up at Vesuvio for some port. I then ended up at a dance club. The guy who was paying for my drinks (I met him at the party at the Bubble Lounge) finally insisted that I leave the club so that I could head home. He was kind enough to call me today to make sure that I made it home ok.

I was planning to head to some more screenings tonight but my back is killing me. I desperately need to go to the party tomorrow too. Therefore, I will be taking it easy tonight.

Laissez le bontemps rouler

First of all, I must say that my French sucks so it's quite possible that I got it wrong. The only French I know is that which I have picked up from others; I took Spanish and Italian in school.

My rear is healing nicely and my head is no longer throbbing. That means only one thing -- let the party continue. I just thought I'd write a quick note before heading out for the day. Today I hope to catch a couple of movies at the festival before heading off to yet another party. This party is at The Bubble Lounge in honor of Brad Bird who will be giving the State of Cinema address at the festival. If I don't partake of too much wine, then it will be back to another film.

If only I didn't have to work tomorrow. Where is my trust fund?

Injured again

I don't know what hurts worse -- my head or my rear. The story is not quite as sordid as you would like to think.

Last night I went to Opening Night of the San Francisco International Film Festival along with my two best friends, Millicent and Yvonne. It's become an annual tradition for the three of us. We enjoyed the movie. We really enjoyed the gift bags. Well, Millicent and I did at least. Skyy Vodka is one of the major sponsors of the Festival so the gift bag always includes a little bottle of Skyy. Millicent and I always consume our bottles during the film. Yvonne doesn't because she is a lightweight. That also makes her the designated driver.

After the film, there's a party with lots of -- yep, you guessed it -- Skyy Vodka. Oh, and wine and beer too thanks to the other sponsors, Sterling Vineyards and Stella Artois. There is fabulous food too. Unfortunately I did partake of the food as much as I should have. My palate was poisoned by venison with some weird orange sauce. It took several drinks to get the taste out of my mouth. I do remember posing for a photo that is supposed to appear on a website.

Then it was off to the VIP room. Unfortunately I only had two VIP passes and there were three of us. I volunteered to go into VIP to check it out and come back with a report. Well, the twit at the door gave me a wristband but didn't collect my pass. I quickly handed off the passes to Millicent and Yvonne. From there things just went crazy. Yvonne and I posed for souvenir photos from Sterling Vineyards. (The photos were printed and framed by the time we were ready to leave the party.) Yvonne is a dear friend who is always on the lookout for me. After checking out the band playing in the room, Yvonne stated, "The drummer's really cute. Of course I'm looking for you." Did I mention that Yvonne has been married for ten years and has two kids? We all quickly agreed that indeed the drummer was cute. The band was playing a bunch of covers. At one point in the evening, Millicent started yelling out a request for "Roxanne." Yvonne and I were mortified ... until the band started playing "Roxanne." Before leaving the party, I remember having a long conversation with the drummer. Oh, and he let me play the drums too. It's a shame they're from Atlanta.

I really should have known that it was going to be a bad night when Yvonne announced that we couldn't go home quite yet because she was drunk. So where'd we go? To a bar of course. I paid $21 for a round of drinks that we basically didn't touch. If only we had left the bar five minutes earlier. It seems I had told some guy that I was heading to the bar. He showed up as we were leaving and insisted on coming along. He drove me back to my car and was going to follow me home. I managed to lose him in the streets of Berkeley. What's the guy's name? I don't know, but I could find out. I apparently gave him my phone number also because he called me after I lost him.

Then to end a perfectly lovely evening I stumbled into the bathroom and slipped. On my way to meet the floor, my rear met up with the toilet. Sitting is quite painful to say the least.

So in the end I think that in the future I will not mix merlot with vodka.

Oh, and perhaps there will be pictures in the near future. I had a disposable camera with me last night and have apparently used half the roll of film. It should be very interesting.

First FedEx...

I checked out the Williams Sonoma site and discovered that I could register with their site for a housewarming. This morning I decided I wanted to add more items. My registry could not be located. Waaaaaa!!!

I tried to register again. I just checked and once more my registry is not available. This is soooo unfair. I have spent so much money on wedding gifts from that store over the years. It seems only fair that I should give people the chance to register for gifts.



People need to know that I really need the Imperia Pasta Machine.

It's finally my turn

Over the years I have given countless shower gifts -- wedding and baby. I have become a pro at the more popular shower games. (No one can beat me at the clothespin game.) Since children and marriage are nowhere in my near future, as far as I know, I was beginning to feel cheated. Not anymore.

Now that I've moved, people keep asking when I am going to have a housewarming. (It will be in May.) Some asked about gifts. Well here's the cool thing. Apparently you can register for housewarming gifts. I registered with Bed, Bath, and Beyond a few weeks ago. Last night I decided to check out some other websites. I am now registered at Crate & Barrel and Pier One. If only Ikea had registry...

Gotta run along though. I just realized that I forgot to register with Williams Sonoma. This is way too much fun.

My Southern Roots

I am a confused person. I was born and raised in California, but my parents are transplants from the South. At times I can seem like the stereotypical Californian; at others, I am pure Southerner. I remembered this when recently getting into a discussion on bbq (see post on heading to the Big Easy). This all reminded me of something that happened when I was living in Virginia.

I had gone to DC for the day with some friends to hear an oral argument at the Supreme Court. On the ride back, this guy from Mississippi started a heated conversation with my friend, Karen, about "damn Yankees." (Karen was from upstate New York.) After half an hour or so, Karen finally turned to the guy and asked, refering to me, "Why don't you pick on her? She's from California." His answer? "She may have been born in California but her parents are Southerners. Therefore, she was raised right." As far as many Southerners I have met over the years are concerned, I'm one of them. It's not really my fault that my parents decided to move to California a year before I was born.

I just find that "Yankee" take on barbeque to be quite interesting. That whole obsession with sauce just seems to be a Texas/Kansas City kind of thing to me.

Injured

It never fails. I am always injuring myself but can never remember when it happened. (No, this does not happen after imbibing too much ... anymore. It's been a number of years since I've left college. Check my profile. Do the math.)

Today I awoke with a long newly-formed scab on my arm. I can only guess that it occured while I moved the last of my belongings into the apartment. By the way, if you think the last photo was frightening, then you haven't seen anything yet. My belongings are kin to the Blob and have taken over the apartment. Thankfully I'm off work most of this weekend and will be able to deal with it.

Oh yeah. This is not supposed to be about the mess around me but the thing on my arm. When I got home tonight, I immediately headed for the computer so that I could do my evening check of my fave blogs. In the middle of it all, I looked down and realized that my arm was actually bleeding. What's worse is that I now notice that there are several scratches in the same area -- all of them red. I just hope they don't get infected like last year when I got a piece of fence stuck in my arm. Now that was a lot of fun. The guy in the surgery department said that he was trying to minimize the scarring but of course I have a scar on my arm. I love to tell that story and watch people cringe.

Anyway, just felt like sharing the bleeding arm thing. It felt very "Gloria." hehe

Tuck and Roll

A couple of years ago I spent Christmas in Virginia with my mom's family. I stayed with one of her younger sisters. My mom's older sister wanted to see me as soon as I had arrived of course. (She's strange this way. Well, some might just say she's strange, but that would be a whole other post.) This particular aunt was living with her son at the time because there had been a fire in her building and her condo had smoke damage. As any mother is apt to do, she was driving her son completely mad. Anyway, her son had to drive her to our aunt's house. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that around the same time there was the fire in the building, my aunt totaled her car. That's why her son was driving her around. When she arrived, she rang the doorbell. It took me no more than 60 seconds to reach the door. Upon opening the door, I looked up and down the street. My cousin's car was nowhere in sight. On Christmas Day I asked him about this.

"When you dropped your mother off the other day, did you even slow down?"

"A little. I told her,'We're approaching the house. Tuck and roll. Tuck and roll.'"

I thought of this because tomorrow I have to pick my mother up from the airport. I called her this morning to confirm this. She was rather short with me. My interpretation is that she is still pissed off with me for moving. I told my dad -- my sane parent -- that if she gives me any crap on the drive from the airport, I'm going to pull over to the side of the road and tell her to get the hell out of my car. (You don't understand. My mother is just insane enough that she might actually have the audacity to yell at me after I have been kind enough to get her.) Now that I think about it though, "tuck and roll" seems a lot more fun. Perhaps I should then toss her luggage out a little further up the road.

I suppose that this means she probably won't have any jewelry for me like she usually does.

Children?

Mr. Man

Well, I just got off the phone with a former co-worker. She had to get off the phone to tend to her toddler. It was fun talking to her because the last time we spoke she was pregnant with said toddler.

Anyway, I thought I'd post a photo of the cutest toddler around -- my cousin's son. Actually most people in my family are damn cute. He's so cute though that I almost want to rush out and have one of my own. Then I remember, from my job, what it's like to have kids around and I come to my senses. I still remember students last year questioning me at the beginning of the school year about my marital status. When I said that I am single, one of the girls said, after some thought, "That means that you can still go out to the clubs because you don't have to worry about any kids. I want to be like you when I grow up."

Glad to know that despite it all I can be a role model...

Overwhelmed and sick

Gloria keeps asking for photos so here you go. Please excuse the photo quality. I have been having to use my cellphone. I know my other camera is around here somewhere but I haven't encountered it recently.


What should be the bedroom

So this is a photo of what is supposed to be my bedroom. Since I don't have any bedroom furniture yet, I figured this was the perfect place to store boxes. The problem is that I have too much stuff and so decided to weed it out. What you see is the aftermath of my idea of consolidation. I hope to have it all sorted (and put away) in the next week. It is really quite depressing to come home each night and see the mess.

Oh yeah. The rest of the title. Have I mentioned that I hate Spring? It is allergy season and I am truly suffering. I spent most of yesterday either sneezing or on the verge of sneezing. My coworkers asked if I was ok because I looked like I had been crying. Needless to say, with my current state I have not been too inspired to deal with the mess.

Worth the wait

Cuisinart Chef's Classic Nonstick Hard-Anodized 7-Piece Cookware Set

FedEx delivered my package to work this morning -- finally. I am rather proud of my uncle. I think he did quite well all on his own. I now have pots and pans that are safe for the oven. Guess it's time to pull out the cookbooks again.

I hate FedEx

A few weeks ago I was talking to my uncle in Denver. He asked if there was anything I needed for the new place. I said that I could probably use some new pots and pans. (I do love to cook.) He said that he would look for some.

Last Thursday night I received a phone call from my uncle while I was on my way home from work. He wanted to know if I had received the new pots and pans yet. I was surprised because I had not. When I got home, I discovered no package nor was there a doortag. The next morning I called to ask him for the tracking number.

I looked online and discovered that they had allegedly been trying to deliver the package since Tuesday and that it was due to be delivered again that same day. I then called the lovely people at FedEx. They confirmed that indeed the package was on the truck. That was all nice but I had to go to work and would not be at home. I asked them if they could simply deliver it to my work address. They told me that this would now be possible unless the shipper, my uncle who at this point was on a plane to LA to go on a cruise, requested the change in shipping. I asked if they could hold it at the station and I would simply pick it up on Saturday. (I had already been told that they were open Tuesday through Saturday.) I was told that it would be no problem. Friday afternoon I received a call from the driver telling me that he was five minutes away from my apartment. I told him that that was all very nice but I was not there. He then became indignant. "What do you mean you are not there? This is the fourth time I have tried to deliver this package."

Saturday I went to work and then drove out to the station to pick up my package. There was no one there! The stupid place was closed. I had driven 30 miles out of my way just to not get my package. Needless to say I promptly dialed the 800 number yet again. I was told to call back on Monday when the station would be open. Ummm ... didn't they tell me on Friday that this particular location was only open Tuesday through Saturday? Whatever...

Monday I promptly called FedEx again. I confirmed that the station was closed. They then said that re-delivery was highly unlikely as they had already attempted to deliver the package four times. Excuse me? I asked that the package be re-delivered on Friday, today. The rep told me that she would have someone from the station call me on Tuesday to confirm all of this. I received said call on Tuesday and everything was set ... so I thought.

I was waiting for the lovely folks from SBC so that they could finally turn on my phone so that I could actually buzz folks in the main door. (My feelings about the folks at SBC formerly Pacific Bell could probably use their own post. This was their second trip out to turn on my phone. Funny, but I didn't get any notice from them the first time they came out either.) I have a phone now, but I still didn't have my package. I decided that perhaps it was time to call FedEx yet again. What did I discover? That my package had not been sent out today, but instead was scheduled for delivery tomorrow. Since when has "Friday" sounded anything like "Saturday?" I told them that I thought their customer service was a bit lacking. I also told them that in the future I would perhaps suggest to my uncle that he use US mail. The post office is only a few blocks from me; I would have had the package by now. I finally spoke to a manager. She finally decided that they would send it to my job on Monday.

Hopefully I receive my package on Monday. All I know at this point is that these had better be the best damn pots and pans I have ever seen.