9:15pm Thursday 1 April 2010
There’s only one way to find out…
Uncategorized 5:45 am
Uncategorized 6:26 am
The Kingston Trio
Tickets start at $50.00
$125.00 tickets include VIP reception with the band starting at 6:30pm.
Back To Where It All Began,
The Kingston Trio Bay Area Christmas Tour 2009
The Kingston Trio has been bringing the rich tradition of American folk music to audiences since they first started performing in the San Francisco Bay Area in 1957.
In connection with the release of their new Christmas Album, “Glad Tidings,” (their follow-up album – almost 50 years later – to the great “Last Month of the Year” recorded in 1960), The Kingston Trio returns to the Bay Area with a series of Christmas concerts, including a night at the Palace of Fine Arts Theatre.
The Trio will perform all their familiar hits along with new folk stylings of traditional Christmas music.
It will be a rollicking evening of heart-warming music and mirth to enrich your holiday season, as the Kingston Trio brings you glad tidings of comfort and joy
You may visit The Kingston Trio’s website at kingstontrio.com
Uncategorized 6:21 am
…but I have a brand new, fabulously fashionable ruffled taffeta jacket that is so awesome I won’t want to take it off, so I’m braving the elements and going out on the town on Friday 11 December. I’m not promising that I’ll make it to THE NEXT BAR! at the end of the evening, because most of the cavorting will be in and around the Union Square/Tenderloin area. An art gallery with an impending demise, an upscale downtown whiskey joint, dive bar pool, and some starlight are all planned before a late-night bite in an alleyway swank spot. So, winding up at Gravity will surely be a rude anti-climax. Still and all, my coat should really be seen by as many folks as possible, so I’m not ruing anything out.
Uncategorized 6:04 am
Holiday Lark, V
is all se went almost according to plan: the festivities commenced at the Willie Nelson show in Las Vegas on Saturday 5 December. I ‘ll be wearing one of my latest $300 designer dresses wore something else — with cowboy boots (why did I think it would be anything but freezing in the desert in December?). The plan is was to party ’til dawn, and then drive out to that wacky glass bridge and watch the sun come up. But, it was more of a leisurely drive out there in time for an unforgettable sunset. Been there, or…, got the shot glass, be jealous.
Going forward with this month of merriment, you better not pout, cry, shout, or blink because The Hostess
is roaring has roared back into town with some changes for Bars By The Book Land. (There’s actually already been at least one alteration on this ridiculous blog…are you astute enough to ascertain it?) And no, she is not going to be filling you in on her whereabouts these long, mysteriously silent months. Either you took the time and made the effort to find out what I was up to and you are privy to the juicy details or…you didn’t. Do the math.
Consider this an open invitation to
the Holiday Lark, V arrange your schedule according to mine sooner or later. See you in Vegas around, then. Or not.
Uncategorized 1:09 am
Anyway, I had some grand plans for the Bars By The Book 2nd Anniversary, but I have decided to spare everyone the trek out to Geneva Pub for the time being. That’s how much I adore you & you’re welcome.
The truth is, I want to have a good time on this momentous occasion, and I don’t think that’s exactly the place to do it. Also, it would just take too long to get all the way out there and then back to someplace actually fun. So, let’s save that exciting excursion for another night, and meet at Cantina after work, instead, shall we?
Wednesday 18 February 2009 — 580 Sutter St.
No, it’s not a Bar in The Book — and it used to be called something else entirely when I first stumbled upon it — but it’s a pretty neat little spot, and it will be a nice addition to the woefully-neglected Various Marginalia page. I’ll try and get there early and snag the couch. There won’t be a fabulous photo album of this year’s Bars, and I seriously doubt Nora Charles will be surprising us with a cake, but The Hostess will be there, which should really be enough incentive for you to come. (Did I mention that there is a couch?) Also, they probably won’t be shushing us for a comedy show, which will be a nice change from last year (although I’ll miss the free pizza).
The first Barfly there gets a free drink. So does anyone with those recently-extended-for-one-more-year free drink coupons. As does anyone thoughtful enough to bring The Hostess a present. (Pizza will not qualify as a present, but might get you a free drink, as there is no food at Cantina, which can sometimes be a problem.)
Since while I was flipping my hair around at Fuse last week I never did get around to telling the tale of how I uncharacteristically attended to the battered and bleeding boy who bravely approached me in the driveway of the Mystery Mansion not long ago, there’s a chance of a spontaneous story-time. And it isn’t supposed to be raining, either, which means a hypothetical motorcycle ride could become a reality (my helmet will be a mere block away). Honestly, what more could anyone ask for? (On a school night, I mean.)
Get there early, because The Hostess is not staying late. I have to rest up for this weekend. I have to sign some autographs on Saturday, when I will also be (it is to be hoped) debuting a new dress. If you come to Cantina, I will tell you where I’ll be that day…
Uncategorized 3:46 pm
Uncategorized 4:18 am
I was never so happy to see a set of 365-days-plus-one-extra-annoying-second to be over in my life! What a crap-tastic epoch that was. Funny thing is though, I started out 2009 an awfully lot like I started 365-days-plus-one second ago…
Same date. Same drug(s). Same parties. Except this time around, he was dressed more festively, the drug(s) was(ere) better, and the parties were way more fun (VIP sooo rules! — thanks, Art!). Also, there were even more parties this time, which did mean more people, but most of them were remarqueably good-looking (oh, and remarks were made) — not to mention super cool and friendly — so my usual misanthropy was completely conquered for the duration (35 hours in a row without sleeping, in case you are wondering). (I know!)
There was at least one cute boy in a kilt. There was dancing. There was a girl with the prettiest pigtails ever. There was a truly serendipitous SRC element. There were dimples galore. There was an x-rated field-trip (which I may have actually advocated this year). There was a scar show-and-tell (guess who won?!?). There was gratuitous rooftop-dragging. There was the sunrise.
There was the hilarious “resolution” revolving around a gamine, a rake, his hammock, and her bathrobe. (Did I mention the part where I walked 10 SOMA blocks in 3 1/2- inch spike heels?) And the whole time (all 35 hours), I was just sooo happy that it was a New Year…
I know some of you are wondering what this year’s motto is (as we fondly recall the hilarity that ensued after “Bigger Bitch in ’06″ was declared), so I won’t keep you waiting:
MORE DIVINE IN ’09!
I’m not entirely sure what this means, but I think it will include more yoga, more motor bike rides, and certainly watching more sunrises — they are such a gorgeous way to start a day, after all…
And so, a special thank-you to everyone with whom I celebrated the beginning of 2009 (in person, and in spirit). There’s a grin on my face, a gleam in my eye, and a glint of something sparkly fixin’ to happen this year. Hold onto your hats, and feathers, and masks (& flasks!) — and come out and let’s have some drinks, shall we?
Uncategorized 5:44 am
Well, once again, Steve & Eydie managed to get the Dickensian orphan who is, in point of fact, your Hostess, through another Christmas. But many of you have been wondering: whatever happened to the traditional Holiday Lark? Fair question. Here’s what happened:
“Twas the night after Christmas …” yet I was just not into being the token orphan this year (it does get old). I had not even had one single Candy Cane Martini (which could definitely explain my total lack of being able to even fake “holiday cheer”). And a 61MB PowerPoint presentation (translation: an un-electronically-submittable 61MB PowerPoint presentation on which my future positively hinged on managing to somehow submit electronically) had pretty much rendered me anti-festive for the duration of the rest of this miserable year.
Although, I must confess, the ‘Lark did cross my mind (prolonged, PowerPoint-induced drunken stupor and all). I went back on forth on having one this year. I hemmed and I hawed. I wavered this way and that. After all, it could never be as epic and amazing as Holiday Lark, III — so I thought I ought not bother, on account of 2008 having been so entirely disappointing on all counts, and me not wanting to make things worse with a mediocre ‘Lark.
But I became convinced that it was up to me to continue the Holiday Lark, in spite of my total lack of desire to do so. So I pulled a Rocky Balboa and decided not to let 2008 win. The ‘Lark would prevail, if for no other reason than so that the tradition would remain unbroken. I did this for former Holiday Lark guests who cherish the memories of this tradition (and hoped it would manage to continue). I did this for readers of this ridiculous blog who wish they could have been at previous ‘Larks (and hope to attend future ones). I did this because if I didn’t, I couldn’t figure out how anyone was going to get to see the ridiculously expensive (even at 40% off!!!), insanely sexy new top I bought myself as a Christmas present unless I did it. (There, I said it.)
Since trying to plan to top Holiday Lark, III was pure folly, I planned a very scaled-down ‘Lark. It was a “Post-Traumatic Holiday Lark” this time, on account of it took place on Boxing Day. One person was invited, and the location was undisclosed until the last minute. (Seriously, it was very — if unnecessarily — cloak-&-dagger-ish.) There was a password (which we forgot to use). There was a bartender named Dave (which is always a good sign). There was a most delightful Surprise Guest. There was live music, in a genteel setting, and martinis in glasses so huge that goldfish could have swam in them (there were no actual goldfish involved — I think that was a simile).
There was a spontaneous visit to Harry Denton’s Starlight Lounge, which is the rule when you are walking past the place and you discover one of your companions has never been there. There was a bottle of champagne. There was a finding that the mens’ room is only slightly less glamorous than the womens’ (I blame the urinals), replete with possibly gratuitous kissing in a handicap stall. There was more live music. The light fantastic was definitely tripped. (There was also a picture snapped which I will never show you, on account of the subjects really looking soooo much better in person.)
There was a swing through Union Square, and some close-ups of the skaters we had been observing — in between mischievousness — from our vantage point at Harry’s. There was much discussion on the crappy condition of the ice — serious Zamboni discourse, I kid you not. There was the departure of the Surprise Guest (leaving The Hostess in an unchaperoned condition, it must be said).
There was another impromptu stop at Le Colonial, where a most unlikely Cucumber Gimlet — consisting of gin! — was drunk. It is impossible to explain how this actually happened. But this phase of the evening was strangely reminiscent of Holiday Lark, II — which was also a very intimate event — during which some otherwise improbable events did occur (although public displays of affection on rattan furniture did not take place in 2006, I’m quite sure).
There was gallant chivalrous escorting to the J-car and ushering to a lovely Menorah lighting ceremony, complete with the prayer (and a translation, for The Hostess’ benefit). There was then even more champagne (despite the fact that it this was widely acknowledged to be excessive, but no one seemed to actually care) drunk from glass containers that resembled Pyrex measuring cups, sans the red markings. There was a sleight-of-hand trick involving a very tricky piece of brown silk. There was no more live music, but there was mirth, merriment, and the revelation that Hanukkah candles do not drip. The Surprise Guest reappeared, and there was even more glee.
There was a general agreement that the entire evening had been as delightful as any all year. There was Xanax (in our defense, calls to hot tub ownwers went unanswered, and we had to do something to calm down). And then…there was breakfast.
To sum it all up, let me just say this: the Holiday Lark tradition is going strong, and may actually be getting better — against all odds — every single year. A special thank-you to my enchantingly charming companions this year — you made Holiday Lark, IV the special evening that it was. You were just the dynamic duo to rise to the occasion of keeping the ‘Lark alive. (Let the readers of this ridiculous blog decide for themselves whether that was a pun, or not.) And, I especially thank you for buying all the drinks!
Uncategorized 8:02 am
Well, I’m still alive, apparently. Go figure. I’m just as surprised as you might be about this fact, I assure you. But a patriotic American such as myself cannot let this quintessentially American holiday pass by without due diligence, so I offer sincere thanks for the following:
1. Vodka, champagne, and the fact that you can put vodka in champagne, to a damn tasty effect. 2. The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade — which I try never to miss — and which is even better whilst drinking any and all of the above-mentioned beverages. 3. Secret admirers and old flames who — underwhelming as they may turn out to be — are no more disappointing than any other men are. 4. Xanax, Vicodin, and Lorazepam — separately, of course, although also especially nice when combined with the already-appreciated beverages. 5. The Horrible Holidays have finally commenced, so I can now look forward to them being over, which is a nice change from my usual just dreading their arrival. 6. You — if you are someone I know who is reading this — with the exception of one particular individual who, if you wonder for even a fraction of a moment if it’s you, it is definitely not you. 7. Bars that are open on Thanksgiving — my personal post-parade plan. You should swing by. After all, if no one goes to bars that are open on Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving, they might stop being open on Thanksgiving, and then…where will you go if there comes a time when you have nowhere else to go on Thanksgiving?
Obviously, I could use some help thinking of other things for which to be thankful. Right now, however, I’ve got to go cube the cornbread I just made for my (should-be)-world-famous stuffing, but you know where to find me after the parade ends, and there’s plenty of time between then and dinner for a cocktail…or six. It might not be traditional to go to a Bar on Thanksgiving, but to that The Hostess would just say: “yet“.
Uncategorized 7:48 am
As I was checking the stats for this ridiculous blog, I came across this comment, from “not js mc cain” in my spam comment folder:
Did we cover great taste in clothing?
As it happens, “not js mc cain” — and as The Hostess has had to point out too many times — comments from fake e-mail addresses, such as your less-than-creative “email@example.com”, get sent to a spam folder that wordpress hardly ever prompts me to check. Therefore, if Joe the Would-Be Commenter insists on not using his real e-mail address, he should at least go to the trouble of using one that actually exists, if for no other reason than to make sure the comment appears for everyone else to enjoy, instead of languishing in my ever-unchecked spam queue. In fact, while you’re at it, Joe, why not create a whole annonymous free e-mail account for you to use in all your lurking e-activities? As a bonus, you can use it on forms that require a valid e-mail. Voila! Instant pseudo-identity! (You’re welcome.)
Now, as “not js mc cain” was kind enough to remind me, this brings me to…
18. We both have some very nice clothing financed by republicans. (You’ve heard the not-so-scandalous-after-all details about Sarah’s campaign threads by now, of course, but you haven’t seen my gorgeous new designer dress , which — it should be said, since it’s true — looks even better on me than on the girl in the picture. In this wardrobe allowance line item, I’m actually doing better than the Governor of Alaska, for a change. Not only did I get a republican to finance this frock, I also got to choose it myself, and I don’t have to pretend I’m going to donate it to charity. We like to look at it this way: it’s our way of helping republicans redistribute wealth, while simultaneously stimulating the economy…and simultaneous stimulation is inarguably a good, patriotic, red-white-and-Diane-von-Furstenberg thing.)
Now, I promised you Cocktail Caucus 2008 updates, and here is the latest: it’s not just neck-and-neck, folks. “JsMcCain” may be pulling off an upset the likes of which we may very well need a mock Supreme Court to decide. Electoral College votage aside (since The Hostess could never do that kind of math), he is on the verge of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat which was certain mere hours ago.
Turn-out has been historic, a la the real election. I only regret that the ballots are secret and so I cannot share with you all the amusing comments the silly survey has garnered. And of course, if this straw poll continues to mirror the real election as it has — to an uncanny degree thus far — The Hostess will either be burned as a witch on Wednesday, or begin discussing pre-conditons to the cocktail(s) “JSMcLucky” will be buying her (I think he should take me someplace swanky, where I can wear my gorgeous new designer dress…, “what say you”, electorate?)
You can vote as often and as long as you like until I arbitrarily close the polls sometime on or about on November 4. Forget official poll closing times. You can vote as long as the anchors and pundits are saying the real John McCain has a chance…