December 13, 2004

• ZinZational.  What a great show last night.  Since there were six of us, we were in one of the larger tables that ring the rear of the tend.  We still had decent views, but I have to say that the main floor is more fun to sit at in terms of maximizing the show.

  
  

  However, I couldn't have asked for a better group to watch the show.  Mr Fresh, Jennconspiracy, BigOx, Prince Tristan, and Mme Carolyn were enthusiastic and excited by the show, as was I.  And Jenn . . . oh, the Jenn, the birthday girl.  She looked fabulous, of course (I may get some picture links from BigOx, I hope), in a red satin dress with her hair partially put up an a small hat with little reedy wisps of black feathery material sticking out from it in a halo effect.  She also wore elbow-length black gloves with a small faux diamond bracelet and matching choker.  And she relentlessly flirted with the waiter, the chef, and the strange squeaky clown.  She did this, of course, by necking with Carolyn, and then Tristan.  It certainly got their attention.

  
  

  Mr Fresh was dapper in a suit, and even BigOx wore long pants, a rare event I'm told.  Tristan was gotherific in his "touch me here" leather pants and black shirt.  Poor guy was caught in some traffic, but he managed to make it almost exactly as the show was starting, in time to give his menu choice too.

  
  

  Yours truly was in my black tuxedo pants and black fancy shirt (with black Victorian-patterned stitching) -- which I am actually wearing now, at work, as events detoured after the show to chez Fresh.  But the highlight was a checkered red smoking jacket with badly mismatched pieces of material and fabric.  Like, joltingly different patterns of material with a mostly red theme, which alternate with the overall red velvet checkers that comprise the jacket.  Top it with a fuschia soft pimp hat, and viola! Hugh Hefner with MPD and a side of Bootsy Collins!

  
  

  Also:  macadamia nut liquer.  Smuggled in by either Carolyn or BigOx, not sure who, but delicious all the same.

  
  

  Even though we've just attended the show, I'm considering it as an option for New Year's eve as well, since they do a special show.

  
  

  In other news, Saturday night:  waaay tired.  Stayed in, to Mr Fresh's disappointment (sorry, hun).  Worse, forget sleep, as there was either an elephant dressage exhibition being giving upstairs, or they were having a party.  A LOUD party.  With dancing.  Directly over my bedroom.  Without warning.  Annoyed? Oh, yes. HATE.

  
  

  But Sunday mostly erased that, so yay.

  
  

  Friday was a nice evening with some of Mr Fresh's coworkers at Murphy's Pub on Kearny and then dinner at Café Bastille on Belden Place.  We were peckish after cocktails, and I had pointed us toward Chinatown and North Beach, when Belden Place, a small alley almost entirely filled with great cafés and restaurants, caught my eye.  (That link, incidentally, has some material contributed by my friend k s, a fab babe and great writer who contributes regularly to The Guardian.  My Google search for Belden Place ranked her contributions first, so yay!).  So anyway, Café Bastille.  Mr Fresh and I were strolling down the lane.  I was actually still trying to make up my mind as to which place to patronize, when we were almost literally swooped down upon by the Maitre d'. 

  
  

  "Table for two?" she asked in a very real French accent, menus in hand, in a tone that brooked no refusal.  Well, that settled that.  Happily, Café Bastille is one of my favorite places in town, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

  
  

  So, work this week will hopefully be light, since there's a zillion Christmas parties.  However, my boss' father passed away, not unexpectedly.  He'd been ailing rapidly for a couple of weeks.  I'm somewhat relieved for his sake (rather than a lengthy illness), as well as my own, since starting next week we have a programmer and an analyst out.  I hope my boss takes the time he needs, as he's a relentless workaholic.  But I think he needs to take some time to heal and grieve.  I'll be very worried if he refuses, since I think he's closer to a breaking point than he may realize.

  • 3:06 pm
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