GUEST POST: Deaf, blind, and incapacitated by tryptophan

This holiday weekend came and went faster than one of my paychecks at a Bloomingdale's store (but not the new one; it's shiny but it kinda sucks).

The Thanksgiving dinner we hosted went off without a hitch. Our friends, three unknowing guinea pigs at our first hosted holiday meal, tucked into citrus-rosemary turkey (thank you, Michael Chiarello) and lemon-butter broccoli rabe (merci, Food & Wine) before retiring turkey-coma-style to the spot in front of the fireplace for after-dinner drinks and Trivial Pursuit. Clean up only took 3 hours. Ugh.

The following day we overheard a girl seated behind us at the 5:20 showing of The Fountain say "That movie suuuuucked" as the credits rolled. This is the same girl who just two hours before was so enraptured by the paper-bag puppets in the Fandango ad that she sung its theme song, loud and proud like some sort of Century Theaters Kelly Clarkston. I guess there's no accounting for taste.

I say "we overheard", but in all seriousness my husband is all ears, whereas I have been deaf in my left ear for most of my life. From what I've been told (in my right ear, of course) I miss half the fun of getting caught in a crowd, of being seated too close to other people at a restaurant. Now that I have a near constant companion who relishes pointing out the absurd things people say in public, I now realize that I probably missed a lot of really funny/strange/downright-alarming eavesdropping opportunities when I lived in New York City for nine years. But that's okay; I was there for the art degree and the pizza.

I have been shopping for new eyeglasses, so I now present: Shopping in San Francisco for Eyeglasses...

Site for Sore Eyes - Lafont glasses are artsy and have exactly the look I'm after, except I look like Steps of Rome eurotrash when I put any of their very square-and-German frames.

Burlingame Optical - my Yelp review says it all

City Optix - $700 for those Judith Leiber specs I crave (retail: $560)? Clearly the salespeople here are smoking crack. Except that junkies are oftentimes more polite.

San Francisco Optics - I walked in and was immediately accosted by a salesman who had me try on 30 different frames... all of which had the make/model names covered with tape and no price tags anywhere. Some people may love when salespeople get really chummy and start acting like the gay male shopping friends they've never had, but I don't. Sorry.

Optical Underground - They don't boogie with my vision insurance, but the prices are so good that they don't have to. I scooped up a pair of Oliver Peoples frames in case I can't find anything better later. I don't love them, but they'll do in a pinch.

Frustrated by what I call the "spectacles project" I finally contacted the photographer who used to own Girls With Glasses (dot-com) and asked for his help. You see, dear reader, I did a please-don't-tell-mom photoshoot for GWG some years ago. I was Miss February-- the shortest month of the year, but a title of which I am proud nonetheless. (Did you know that most of those girls don't even have myopia? It's a downright scandal, people!) With any luck, said photographer will be sending me the red glasses I wore for the part of the shoot when I wore little else (also featured in the "artsy portrait" at the beginning of this month's guest blog). That is, if he can find them.

I hope this post finds you enjoying leftovers and doing a little online holiday shopping for yourself. You deserve it, damn it!

GUEST POST: I'm bad at coming up with titles

I just finished an excruciatingly long project for my biggest client-- it seems odd that one would speak ill of an innocent-looking kids' book, but there you have it. I'll have just about enough time (and energy) to make it through the Thanksgiving Day festivities we're hosting this year before starting the next big project.

This week my pub quiz team, "So this team walks in to a bar...", picked up first place yet again. Right on! I've been completely blessed with friends that possess steel trap minds for useless trivia. Chris knows history, country music and the Bible. Kevin knows movies, current events and sports. Eric knows music and current events. I can answer pretty much anything about 1980s pop culture and art history. At this particular quiz, we had a comfortable lead throughout the first four rounds, lost ground in the fifth and sixth and then just squeaked by with a win when we came closest to the answer to this: In what year did Beethoven complete his Symphony No. 9? And just in case you think we're a bunch of nerds: we don't play for local pub fame and bragging rights (although there's plenty of both). We're there strictly for the first place $40 bar tab. I don't think I've actually purchased a drink at O'Neill's since 2003.





My husband got word from The Man that he'll be heading back to the U.K. for business next month. If I'm able to get an affordable airfare, I'll go with him this time and we'll spend Christmas in Paris. I once had a string of five straight birthdays spent in foreign countries (New Zealand, England, Bahamas, England again, and Canada) but I haven't once spent Christmas anywhere but in the United States. My conversational French skills are lacking; I hope "Bah, humbug. Now give me some more 'nog!" translates easily.

I'm less sentimental than most and would usually not speak of Christmas twice in the same blog entry, however my current crush-ola has seen fit to release some Christmas CDs today. Go and order them now and I'll try to come up with another entry by the time you get back.

GUEST POST: Reason number 3,753 for living here

It certainly ain't the housing prices.

Today marks the beginning of Dungeness Crab season here in Northern California. Alright now, let the feast begin!

Note to Miss Red: Let us know when you'll be visiting San Francisco. We'll serve up a tasty crab boil for you and Concert Josh.

GUEST POST: "Adult toys" + wine-tasting soirée

I may have jinxed the general warm-and-fuzzy feelings I have for my own self-employment by alluding to them in my last entry. Since then I've been neglecting my blog-warming duties (sorry) and working, working, working. The deadlines wouldn't suck so bad if my client didn't keep missing every single one of theirs. Ah well... Complaining about jobs is so passé, so I'll just get on with it.

Last Thursday evening I was teased into attending an event benefiting the local San Francisco chapter of the AIGA (American Institute of Graphic Artists). You see, they called the event "A Night of Adult Toys" and the sponsors had the nerve to add that it was a capital-G-Gala... surely so they could feel a-okay with charging attendees $25 apiece without giving them nary a drink coupon in return. "Consenting adults only" read the invite. "Attire: Anything goes!" I was happy that adult toys were finally getting the highbrow attention they deserved. So I pulled on my tight velvet everything and a new pair of John Fluevogs and boogied my way over to the capital-G-Gala.

Well, I felt a little duped. The focus of the event was about 50 of these little Kewpie-doll-meets-Japanese-robot statues called "munnies" that members of the San Francisco design elite (invite read: "design visionaries") decorated. They were auctioned off to benefit an organization that makes sure that no member of the same design elite will ever have to suffer the emotional and social dejection of not having expensive and unflattering rectangular eyeglasses to wear.

These expensive little statues were anything but risqué (okay... one of them vibrated) and the only thing "adult" about them was the price. Each auction item started at $50. Ack.

I did the rounds, waved at a few people I think I've worked with before (I've had many, many freelance jobs), and left empty-handed.

Saturday night, our friends Laura and Yasser had a wine-tasting soirée at their place in Nob Hill. My husband was the "wine expert", offering tips and advice about slurping and food-pairing to the other guests. It was spectacular in its spluge-osity; not a single bottle of Two-Buck-Chuck anywhere. I paid for my enthusiasm (and refusal to let good wine go to waste) all day yesterday. I took my hangover to the local IHOP for breakfast and spent the rest of the day on the couch.

GUEST POST: May this buzz last through Election Day

The weather forecast for this weekend? Cold and unpleasant. Mind you, it's not Chicago cold, however my blood has thinned considerably since I moved to California and I'm now a thin-blooded wuss who grumbles and grouses every time it dips below 50 degrees. There, I said it. It's on the internet now, so it must be true.

So, this weather situation being the way it is, I will inevitably ask my husband to start a fire (this time: in the fireplace) and watch lots of television. I like watching the news. I like shows on which my friend Chris Turner produces or is the host. It takes a strong breed to watch network television the weekend before an election. If you're like me and you need a stiff drink just to make it through another commercial break filled with election advertisements, try my favorite:

Gin Daisy
2 oz Tanqueray gin
1 oz lemon juice
1/2 tsp superfine sugar
1/2 tsp grenadine
1 Maraschino cherry
1 orange slice

How you do it: In a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, combine the wine, lemon juice, sugar, and grenadine. Shake well. Pour into an old-fashioned glass and garnish with the cherry and the orange slice.

If you try it, let me know what you think!

With my senses considerably numb, I should be able to craft and revise my voting cheat sheet which I'll take to the poll with me on Tuesday.

In other news, my husband is woefully jet-lagged after spending two weeks in England and France on business. (He has also never seen the Proposition 87 ad in which Bill Clinton talks about babies with asthma.) For the two weeks he was off in lands with no election ads, I slept so incredibly well I feel almost guilty about it. I'm looking forward to sleeping late tomorrow... you know, as opposed to every other day when I also sleep in. (Self-employment rocks.)

GUEST POST: Now presenting: Miss November!

A word from Tequila Red's guest blogger:

Hello there, TR fans. You're looking mighty sexy tonight.

I promised Miss Red I'd keep her blog warm for her while she thinks twice (I hope) about being "done with the whole blog thing". I've certainly missed living vicariously through her insightful, clever missives about Chicago, parenthood, old ex-boyfriends, and drunken workplace shenanigans... and I'm sure you do as well.

I don't have much experience with this blogging stuff. Sure, I read enough of them. There's this one and this one and this one. However, unlike Miss Red, writing's not my thing. I make pretty pictures for a living. So, we'll see where this blog thing goes.

Miss Red gave me no ground rules. (To quote her: "I'm handing you the keys to the castle so go buck wild!") I'm feeling liberated by this and— truthfully— a little scared. One too many references to Mayor Gavin Newsom's hair and I may have a lynch mob on my hands.

Even if by the end of this month we all figure out together that there's a very good reason I don't have a blog of my own, you'll just want Miss Red back even more— and that's not so bad... right?




My "artsy portrait", requisite of any "serious blogger".

STAY TUNED

something new coming soon!