The Ladies of the Family

To celebrate my cousin and uncle’s birthdays we gathered in the East Bay for some good old fashioned family fun. Outside of San Francisco and Folsom, the East Bay is my third home. I love the hot weather, the short distance between Filbert Street and Diablo Road and of course, the aunts, uncles and cousins who are there for my entertainment and company.

Aren’t we precious?!

Happy Belated Birthday Stinks!

Fall Festival Season aka San Francisco’s Summer

By now you have probably figured out that if it involves booze, music, a theme, etc, that I most likely want to be a part of it. As July is quickly coming to a close, I thought it important to highlight the Festivals of the Fall. Let’s face it, Summer might as well be winter in San Francisco with all this fog we’ve had, so let’s make August, September & October the key staycation months of 2010!

Below you will find a complete list (well complete in that these are the things I would like to attend) of Fall Festivals!

Only in San Francisco: A great site for all your San Francisco good times!

August

Saturday, August 7
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is Playing at Dolores Park

Saturday, August 14 & Sunday, August 15
Outside Lands Music & Arts Festival

September

Friday, September 3 – Monday, September 6
Sausalito Art & Wine Festival

Saturday, September 11 & Sunday, September 12
Ghiradelli Square Chocolate Festival7th Annual Brews on the Bay

Saturday, September 18
2nd Annual Taste of Fillmore Street

Saturday, September 25 & Sunday, September 26
SF International Dragon Boat Festival & Polk Street Blues Festival

Sunday, September 26
Folsom Street Faire

October

Sunday, October 3
Castro Street Fair

Friday, October 8 – Tuesday, October 12
Fleet Week

Saturday, October 16 & Sunday, October 17
Half Moon Bay’s Pumpkin Festival & Treasure Island Music Festival

Saturday, October 23 – Tuesday, October 26
Oktoberfest by the Bay

Well That Was Ridiculous…

So last night, a random Thursday, I decided to lay low for a change. I got home from work, put on my PJs and turned on the teley. After watching  several hours of nonsenscial episodes of Chelsea Lately, I decided to get up and clean the house a bit. Mid-bathroom deep bleach, a knock at the door. Christie was getting home from work late and wanted to go out for a drink…

After about 20 minutes of convincing and a very sneaky icing, I was in.

SIDE NOTE: Christie was wearing a t-shirt dress. She tells me she’s going up stairs to change, but needs me to help her unzip the dress. I think to myself, what shirt dress has a frickin zipper. Then I realize…ICED! Damn her.

Anyway…I finish up cleaning, tool a quick shower and got dressed. Since Christie and I are ridiculously poor we had only $20 cash between the two of us. (Christie: $20. Me: $0). We decided to keep ourselves in control, we’d just head over to the Black Horse Deli & Pub (See St Patrick’s Day) for a quick couple of beers.

It’s 10:30pm at this point.

As we approach the bar, which as a reminder is a small alley with a roof on it, we hear a ton of noise. It was packed. Ladies on the stools. Dudes slammed up against the wall. And there were just as many people behind the bar as there were being served. We bellied up to a couple seats and ordered two Chimay Whites.

Apparently it was the owner, James’, birthday. They were serving teeny-tiny pies and ice cream cake, and every ten  would break into a mumbled rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Everyone was absolutely shitfaced.

Once settled, we realized the entire crowd was  involved in an intense dice game of 1-4-24. There was a hug pile of dollar bills right in front of us…Being as poor as we are, we decided gambling was a great way to earn some extra dough. So Christie threw down and tossed the die.

Meanwhile, some random girl walks in with a Safeway bag full of Jell-O shots. WTF? Orange and Lime flavor shots are now being passed around the bar. Everyone took the first in unison, yelling, “CHEERS!” tapping one to the other as if a large glasses of wine around the family table.

At 11:40pm James announces he must close at midnight to avoid getting closed down again.

SIDE NOTE: They were recently shut down for ten days for staying open past the deli license allotted hours.

Back to the game. Christie ties for first place the first three rounds…By the last, however, she lost by only three points…The final game ends right at midnight. We chug our beers.

On our walk home we discuss how random the evening was. We’re a little tipsy. We made some mac n cheese, cuddled up (because apparently Christie can’t walk up the two flights of stairs to her own place) and passed out watching 17 Again. Ridiculous.

So He is Single…Carmel Part II

Onto Carmel…day two and three. See Carmel Part I for day one.

Once we had escaped being kicked out of our Carmel family inn, we headed into the valley for some yummy brunch at Corkscrew Cafe.

Not only was the food delicious, but so was the service. Sean and Dustin were our servers…They were hilarious. They looked twelve years old, but apparently it was only their innocence that kept them looking so young. Well that and their rosey cheeks.

We finished our ‘Ladies Who Lunch” luncheon and popped down the street to Talbott and Georis wineries.

The atmosphere for tastings was beautiful and the company was pretty fantastic as well .

At Talbott we met two adorable couples from Los Angeles. The ladies were sisters and despite both being grandmothers they looked 25. They sat and talked with us for a while offering advice on beautiful skin, local wineries and of course, how to find true love.

At Georis we met Bear, a musician from South Carolina who currently holds the Guinness Book of World Records for finger tapping. He had a snaggle tooth, southern accent and sweet sense of humor. Check him out:


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We had finished up in the Valley and headed back to the hotel. We quickly refreshed and headed out for a late dinner. Unfortunately we didn’t make a reservation at the restaurant Dametra’s, so we put in our name, dropped off our Georis and Talbott wine and headed to Il Fornaio for a couple cocktails in the meantime.

At Il Fornaio we met “B” a bartender who had been working there for over 15 years. Quite entertaining and made one mean pomegranate margarita.

Over the course of the next hour we attempted to hit on a table of men who had obviously just returned from a game of golf. We created a diagram to determine who was single and who was married. Alas. No luck. Again.

After hugging “B” goodbye we headed back over to Dametra’s for some outstanding food, singing, dancing and good times. The restaurant is run by a family of Greek men (i.e. cousins, brothers, grandfather, etc). I emphasize the word family because I felt like it was actually just a group of friends who shared a common interest of good food and good women. We were attended to by at least five male waiters, serenaded by their grandfather and danced adored by a table of Arabic drummers. An interesting experience to say the least.

We finished up our final course and headed back to Brophy’s for Round II. We entered the bar to find all the locals and workers knew us by name. I even got a talking to again by the owner, Chris, about keeping it PG tonight. We dropped off the bottle of wine we didn’t consume at dinner behind the bar and bellied up to a table in the corner next to two hawt single dudes, who I shall call Folsom and Sven.

Folsom and Sven didn’t seem terribly interested at first, however, after joining us for a drink, their attitudes quickly adjusted. Christie pretty quickly decided Sven was heres, despite Jen’s tentative interest. Mary chatted up Folsom, however he was suffering from a recent broken heart and didn’t care too much to take any females serious. With Mary and Christie distracted, Jen and I wandered the other 10 square feet of the bar for any newbies.

Unfortunately there were no newbies, instead  the wedding party from the night before turned up, including Robert. He quickly approached me, stuck his hand inappropriately down my shirt and began making out with me. Chris, the bar owner, quickly reminded us to keep it PG. Robert then decided it was probably a good idea to go back to my hotel room. I agreed.

So I walked over to the table with Sven, Christie, Folsom and Mary to grab my coat. I explained to them my plan and everyone seemed to be in agreement that it was an excellent idea. On my way back to Robert I stopped to talk with this dude who I shall call Tin Cup. Tin Cup was a movie producer from LA who was sitting in the bar with an oversized pair of headphones choosing music for his upcoming movie. He couldn’t tell me what the name of it was but described it as follows:

“It’s a story about a war veteran who comes back to play professional golf. He comes to Carmel, meets a lady and rebuilds his life. Oh and it’s starring Kevin Costner.”

I responded by asking, “Didn’t they already make that movie? It’s called Tin Cup.” He did not think this was clever. He went on to make ridiculous statements like..

“If you don’t have money, you can never be happy.”

“I’m dating a japanese princess. She’s a direct descendant of the emperor. In our spare time she and I run a dog grooming business called Pretty Doggies.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart. My name is ____. Don’t ever call me a pet name again.”

I seriously couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. The true downside of this conversation, outside of feeling dumber, was that Robert thought I was flirting with this 52 year old douche and left the bar giving me a dirty look. So much for going back to the hotel room. So instead the girls and I finished up our cocktails and silently headed back to our hotel room.

Sunday morning we woke up, snuck out of the hotel room and headed over to Big Sur to have brunch at Nepenthe. I was pretty sure Jen and Christie were going to vomit on the windy 30-minute drive. Especially when I started singing showtunes. But we made it there free and clear. No Sunday Funday lunch would do without a refreshing cocktail, especially if daiquiris are on the menu!

The day ended with a long drive back to San Francisco. Lola, wine and dignity in tow…

A great kick off to the Summer of Single Dudes.

Freeno: A Coming Out Party

I met Myles in high school some twelve odd years ago. Emphasis on the odd. Over the past twelve years I’ve gotten to know him quite well. In fact in the last couple of years he spent just over three months living with me in my room. In any other situation this would be weird. Sleeping in the same bed, with the same guy, for three months and not having sex? I mean I’m not a sleuter, but that’s unusual for any lady of my social standing. The key for Myles and I? Myles is gay. And in true Myles fashion, he came out of the closet to our friends, including myself, in a big way. Here’s the story…

It was 2005 and Myles invited his very best high school pals to Reno for an overnight getaway. This included Danny (my roommate), Jeff (a guy I used to whatever with), Christie, Sharon and me. Myles had a friend who hooked us up with the Pavarotti Suite at one of the casinos in Reno. Classy.

Sharon, Myles and I were the first there. We checked into the room:  Three bedrooms, Living Room, Dining Room, Full Bar, Jacuzzi and Mirrored Ceiling. After unpacking our shiza we headed down to the VIP Hosted Bar, where Danny, Jeff and Christie joined us. The bar was amazing. All top shelf. As much as you want. All free of charge.

Several hours in we’re pretty liquored up and Myles shares with us he has some big news….He’s GAY! We of course take this opportunity to ask a lot of stupid questions and then…celebrate! We headed back to the hotel room where things got a little ridiculous….

Jeff threatens to kill me…joking of course. (We had a strange friendship.)

Once we finished making a scene in the hotel room, we decided to take it out in public. Bad idea. Over the course of the night we scarred hotel patrons, Sharon ate shit on an ice cube, we made an ass of ourselves meeting the Ten Tenors and were finally asked to leave the VIP bar after running up a $1000+ tab without tipping the bartender.

The night for me ended as usual…in a bathtub. I can’t help myself.

On our way back to Folsom the next day we stopped at a local school yard and played in the snow…Thanks to Danny who knocked my ass into the snow field. Bastard.

Thanks to Myles for never letting us down…even when it comes to coming out.