Sunday, July 31, 2011

i'm a regular george michael...

I went camping this weekend with my friend Catherine and her friends (aka: strangers.) This morning, as Catherine and I were brushing our teeth in the women's public restroom, two little girls from the next campsite came over and were adjusting their barrettes and toe-socks next to us.
"Hi." I said.
One of the little girls said, "Hi."
Catherine shot me a look.
"Did you guys camp last night?"
The one that talked said, "Yeah."
"Me too." I said. "Were you scared?"
"No." She said. Her friend shot her a look as Catherine shot me a look.
"You weren't?!?" I said. "Well, I was kinda scared."
The both politely smiled at me as Catherine moved to a different section of the facilities, elbowing me on her way.
"Do you live in San Francisco?" I asked. The talker shook her head, as her friend gave me the side-eyes. "Where did you come from?" I asked.
"Wow. That's far away. What grade are you in?"
"So does that make you ten?" I was trying to look as normal as possible, but I had just spent the night in a tent. I looked like Janice Joplin after a bender.
"Yeah." She said.
Catherine emerged, handed me some face moisturizer and said, "Let's go."
"Bye!" I said.
And the talker said, "Bye."
Catherine was all freaked out that I talked to unsupervised children in a public restroom, but I don't see what the big deal is. I am not a child predator. I am an inquisitive person and don't you think it's interesting they came all the way from Stockton?!?
"Well, yeah. That was interesting." Catherine said, before regaling everyone back at the campsite (14 paces away) with my lewd conversation skills. And obviously, kudos to the parents of the quiet girl who have obviously drilled home the old, "Don't talk to strangers (especially in public bathrooms)." But I've decided the chattier girl just followed her instincts that I'm not the kidnapping type and chose to be polite. Which is more important: being paranoid about people talking to you in a toilet or basic human decency? You tell me.
Later, Catherine's fianace Brian was rolling up his tent. A little boy from the other campsite came over and said, "You guys leavin'?"
"Yeah." said Brian. "What about you?"
"Yeah, we leavin' too." He said. "We just stayed one night."
"That's cool." said Brian.
"See ya later!" The kid said. And Brian waved at him.
I walked over to Brian. "How come you're allowed to talk to unsupervised children?"
He shoved the tent in the bag, looked up at me and said, "Because I am non-threatening..."

There will be more on this camping thing later. I just thought that was funny...

Friday, July 29, 2011

it's like a double feature, only boring...

On really busy weeks, Melissa and I don't write Necessary Conversation in advance. We'll just meet at the studio really early on a filming day with a bunch of newspapers and start writing. This past Sunday, we were really fucking over everything. Normally, we're pretty good about putting Necessary Conversation first. We'll phone in our other shit to focus on the show. But this Sunday, we just couldn't do it. We split a pot of coffee and started watching TV on a laptop.
As a result, you get this:

In other news, I am going camping on Saturday night with people I don't really know and am both nervous and excited. My brother, from whom I am borrowing a sleeping bag, didn't believe me.
"What is this really for..."

cacao to walmart...

This glorious Oregon news report was on DListed this morning.

1. What happened to Sandy's leg? Was that a result of her expulsion from Walmart?
2. Carla! Carla! Carla!
3. I thought that's how you were supposed to dress in Walmart. Now, had they approached Sandy and said, "You cannot pair a turquoise bikini top with orange sweat-shorts and a leg brace" I'd have better understood.
4. Related to item #1, what happened to Sandy's hair?
5. I thought Oregon was supposed to be all Portlandia and recycling and Subaru Foresters. What is up with Sandy limping down her driveway ashing a cigarette while complaining about uptight dress codes?
6. I wonder if, like in the film Easter Promises, Sandy's tattoos tell the story of her dark and complex past. Or she just picked them out of a book when she was high on whip-its. It's 50-50.
7. I wish I was as comfortable in my body as Sandy is in hers...

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

this, by the way, is how i spend my evenings...

On today's Culture Blog, Brock and I attend a Commonwealth Club lecture by Margaret Hoover, Fox News Commentator and great-granddaughter of the reason why old people can't waste food.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

definitely. definitely chasing her down...

It's taken 8 or 9 years, but I've slowly transitioned Big Chris and my friendship from "Burrito Buddies" to "Fancy Food Friends." Instead of hearing tales of Chris' conquests over questionable meat, I get crude life advice over organic leek turnovers.
Last night, we had a late dinner at the Blue Plate and were seated awfully close to a middle-aged man and woman. It soon became clear that like us, they were weird platonic friends discussing their relationship problems. Chris is amazing at being able to instantly go from telling me what a screw-up I am to telling me what a screw-up I am while eavesdropping on other people.
I started kicking him under the table when the woman next to me asked her friend, "Are you still doing online dating?"
Chris took a sip of his beer and said, "Relax, idiot. I'm on it."
The friend, who was British and had a mustache, nervously shifted in his Dockers and responded in the negative and then said, "I miss the thrill of the chase."
Thrill of the chase? This guy was the chauffeur from "Guarding Tess." Thrill of the chase. Please.
"That's what he means by chase." Chris said. "He has to chase women down the block after they walk in, take one look at his camel-toe and run away. He then chases after them. 'Are you Beth!?!? Are you Beth!?!'"
Chris also noted that the British lothario downed his key lime pie like it would, "run out the door if he gave it a chance."
I'm most impressed that Chris can eavesdrop better than I can, maintain this throughout an entire meal and then remember everything verbatim. As soon as the folks next to us left, Chris was able to re-enact their entire conversation, noting weird mannerisms and eating habits. He's like a judgmental Rain Man...

Friday, July 22, 2011

the best political accessory isn't a baby...

Hey kittens. Today's NC is up both here and on the Huffington Post. You can have the rest of the day off work if you watch it right now...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

drop it like it's hot...

Hey, um, no big thing or anything.
I just won 7x7 Hot 20 Under 40 Reader's Choice Award. Whatever.

LIES! These are LIES!

I am so fucking psyched, you guys. Thank you so much for all of your patient voting and hiding your eyerolls from me. I really appreciate it. I've been refreshing the site all day at work, making Eve distract me by sending me high school photos of herself. Then Melissa called me and I could tell by her voice. Bitch is pretty cool, but she was like, "Have you seen it?"
"No, I'm not looking."
"You won."
"You won." She was breathless, dead serious. It's a tone I rarely hear. So I hung up on her and called my mom.
ANYway...I'm really excited. I get a fancy photo shoot and more importantly, this is a huge middle finger to everyone who was a whore to me in high school. So thank you. I'm really, really happy! Also, they used a really weird picture of me on the website. Yay!

If I may quote 7x7, "Beth will be featured in a spread in October's 2011 Hot 20 issue."

I've read that like, 734,894 times...

Pictured above: The BS Campaign Team (Max, Mel and Rich)

the debate at the end of the rainbow...

Today's SFGate Culture Blog visits three different Mayoral Debates and finds each one really fucking weird. Enjoy, over at the Gate...

and tomorrow, we can get on with our lives...

You have one last vote to rock in this crazy 7x7 thing. C'mon. One more time.
Do it for the NKOTB sweatshirt. Click. Now. Thanks.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

someone alert the pulitzer nomination committee...

For some reason, whenever Gwyneth Paltrow writes about picking squash blossoms from her rooftop London garden for her homemade wood-fired pizzas, I want to throw a drink in her face. But when San Francisco social icon Denise Hale is profiled and interviewed on some random blog and I read, "Even in the country she looks elegant, dressed in monogrammed petit-point Stubbs & Wootton loafers, white gabardine slacks, and a white Chanel t-shirt." I think, YES! YES! YES!
You must (I repeat, must) read this post, entitled, "Denise Hale: Society’s Superstar, Blog Darling."
Please bask in my favorite quotes from the profile:

"Quietly and anonymously philanthropic, she pulls the talent for intime weekends with famous (and notorious) actors, editors-in-chief, writers, legal bigwigs, orchestra conductors, chefs, a tech mogul or two, princes in exile, and dear ultra-private friends."

I need some ultra fucking private friends, stat. "Ultra-private" is used in this post, by the way, 57 times.

"An A-list guest (hello, Graydon Carter), Hale adores longtime pal Betsey Bloomingdale, couturier Ralph Rucci, and young dukes and duchesses, decorators, stylists, leading dermatologists, city honchos, fashion designers, heart specialists and cancer researchers, musicians, painters, chefs, editors, priests, politicos, and the talented and witty around the world."

'Leading dermatologists' and 'priests' are my favorites. But I love them all.

Hale, beloved among those of royal blood (sometimes just a drop), current and long-exiled, a favorite of major domos and animal welfare activits."

Activits. That is the ultra-private version of an activist. You wouldn't know about it. Why would you? Were you wearing Bulgari bracelets when you were nineteen? I thought not.

"...even slipping semi-incognito into the Ritz-Carlton hotel in Shanghai. “It’s Denise Minnelli Hale” (no explanation required). "

Where are these people who talk like this and how can I become friends with them? I'd be delighted to stand around hotel lobbies semi-recognizing people.

...the suave Prince Michael of Greece (can it be?) and his lovely wife make a beeline to greet the silver-haired beauty."

I don't know. Can it? Who the hell knows what Prince Michael of Greece looks like?

"When she heads back to the city, seldom do her Emma Hope embroidered silk pumps stand still, as she’s been hopping over to London to dine with Charles and Camilla at Highgrove, attending a so-very-private wedding or quietly dining in a private club with girlfriends."

When she's back in the city, she's going to London! Also, excuse me while I go find out about these Emma Hope pumps.

She keeps his letters in an album at her apartment on Russian Hill in San Francisco. (I’ve read these typewritten signed missives.)"

Signed, no less.

""I think I took more photos of Denise Minnelli than of anyone except my wife and my daughter," said Dunne, now a beloved contributor to Vanity Fair."

This was written yesterday. Dominick Dunne died in 2009. He came back from the dead to talk about Denise Hale being amazing. As well he should.

From the interview? Favorites include:

DDS: Favorite pleasure? DH: Walking beneath a full moon at midnight in the garden in my country house. It’s completely silent.

You know who else liked to do that? Ralph Fiennes in Red Dragon.

Among my single male friends: Michael Tilson Thomas, Ken Fulk, Greg Lopez, Dr Seth Matarasso."

I don't even know what to do with this information but I love having it. Also, upon first reading I thought that said, 'George Lopez."

Obviously, I could go on. And on. Forever. This blog post is magnificent in so many ways. Gwyneth's GOOP posts make me feel like there's this life I should be living, if only I was as organized, hardworking and self-controlled as Gwyneth. Whereas this post on Denise Hale: Don't Even Try just makes me love and admire that this impossibly fabulous woman exists at all, and deigns to call our city home.
Allow me to say as I sit in my cubicle wearing J. Crew loafers I bought off eBay, merci Denise...

PS: Everyone is talking about this! And by everyone I mean Brock on SFist. Also, please vote on 7x7. (I know. I know.)

Monday, July 18, 2011

that is not a great print for me...

I watched Mrs. Doubtfire yesterday and wrote this whole sassy Tourist Trapped about 'Watching Mrs. Doubtfire.' Then I discovered a way better and funnier version of the exact same thing by Christine on the SF Appeal and started over.

So! Today's Tourist Trapped is up. It's my visit to Civil War Days and is available per usual on SFGate. Please drink it in here.

My first solo post is up on the Huffington Post SF! It's on the topic of my deep and abiding commitment to composting. Seriously. No joke. It's an environmental policy piece on single family residence composting. Check it out on HPSF.

And finally, you need to (please) vote today over at 7x7. I'm getting email blasts from my competition telling me to vote for them. Either this is a very cruel campaign directed at exclusively me, or these hot bitches are trying to beat my ass. Weird...

Sunday, July 17, 2011

i'm sure this is what gwyneth wore to yoga at spence...

This weekend's reason you should vote for me in the 7x7 Thing is this:

Oh, to be six and strolling down the sidewalks of Mill Valley, California in 1984. All I wanted to do was wear normal leotards and have long hair and wear tights and be friends with cool European nanny-types. But I just couldn't HELP myself. I remember wondering if wearing the tutu my grandparents gave me was pushing it, but there was no one there to stop me! My grandfather took me to dance class. So he thought this was perfectly reasonable, so much so that he took pictures of me walking into class.
And to those two women walking with me, I'd just like to say WHATEVER.
I'm sure blue leotard works in marketing at Gap Corporate Headquarters and has a child and/or pet named Bailey. (I'm going to feel really bad if she's dead.) Anyway, vote here!

Friday, July 15, 2011

if i win, i'll get gold caps...

Today's reason you should vote for me (again) in the 7x7 Hot Ho contest is because I am 100% positive I am the only candidate who spent the ENTIRE morning in a chair at the dental school trying to get discount tooth care. Not only that, I am probably the only one there who became noticeably emotional when presented with the entirety of what those barbarians plan to do to me, include "extract" my wisdom teeth. AND I was so pitiful, I made my very sweet dental school student get choked up.
"Oh, Beth! Can you just tell me right now why you are upset? I am upset that you are upset!"
Truthfully, I was just exhausted from being there since dawn, having three different professors come over and judge my mouth without really talking to me, sitting in front of the x-ray machine for so long that someone came by and said, "We need to move her away from the radiation at this point" and then at 1pm, reading over her shoulder at my chart to see, "$2,565."
I responded in a very un-7x7-like fashion, by throwing my bag across the room, collapsing onto the floor and slitting my wrists with a tooth mirror. When she asked if I could come in Monday night, I was all, "I need to check my schedule!"
I snatched my iPhone, looked at my calendar and mumbled, "Yeah. I got nothing."
So today's reason that you should vote for me is that my morning was so shitty and gross that a 22-year old dental student actually got teary, she felt so bad for me and my jacked grill.
Vote here! You should vote every day! You should also floss every day...

Oh, and you can always find us over at the Huff Post SF, but we're still getting into the new swing of things so here's the video in case you're feeling lazy, as I am:

Thursday, July 14, 2011

infusion lounge: where democracy begins...

Today, the Culture Blog tackles high drama at last night's Young Democrats meeting. There was screaming, there was shit-talking. It was fabulous. And it's up now, over at SFGate.

Also, and my apologies, but you're going to need to vote every day in this crazy 7x7 thing. I figure I should state my case as opposed to just assuming you'll automatically vote pour moi.
The reason you should vote for me today is because I'm probably the only person on that list who uses Groupon for my haircuts...

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

red letter day!

We're having a bit of a day over here in internet nerd world. First of all, the Huffington Post San Francisco launched today, and on it you will find Necessary Conversation's Pride Episode. Watch it here, and from henceforth.

Also, remember the 7x7 Magazine Hot 20 Under 40 Reader's Choice Thing? I made the Top 7 Finalists! You only have one more week of hearing about this.
But, izgunsdrifh,zfjzj,.dnfzm,fu!!!!!

I will not start obsessing about how cool and connected my competition is right now. I will spend the next 24 hours basking in the fact that a certain whore I went to high school with can SUCK ON IT. Well, that and being grateful to you fine people for being so nice, supportive and willing to vote.
Man, the top 7. That's rad. Thank you!

You can vote here, once a day I think. And if you could ask everyone you've ever met in your life to vote for me too, well, that would be lovely.

As you might remember, I only post this clip on truly special occasions...

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

the story of my life...

On behalf of my number one ho and myself, we are very sorry that our Necessary Conversation Pride Video is taking so fucking long. However, we're excited to report that it will debut on the Huffington Post San Francisco site this week! Mel and I will both have columns up there as well, so don't leave your computer anytime soon. Exciting shit is happening.
In the meantime, here's a sneak peek at Pride, including Mayor Ed Lee totally shooting me down. I'm making quite a career for myself getting rejected on camera for your entertainment. So enjoy!

In other news, I attended the Glide Gala including a pre-party at my friend Max's bachelor pad. Max basically lives in Justin Timberlake's apartment. I was very impressed. Maintaining this vibe, he rented a party bus (including a stripper pole) to take us to the Gala.
Which brings me to my latest obsessive grasp as appearing in the society pages.
Naturally, Brock and I cut in line to have our photo taken. Brock is the most natural socialite ever. He just puts his hands in his pockets and automatically looks like a sophisticated, celebrated toast of the town. I managed to find a way to prominently display my 21+ wrist band while wearing a curtain. Currently, my photo pose is inspired by any cast member on the Real Housewives series. I have also discovered that the less important one is, the more desperate to stand in front of the photo wall.
Hence, my cutting.
There was a kid running around, so we grabbed him for the group photo. I only know about half of these people:

Monday, July 11, 2011

bringing culture to the culture blog...

Today's Tourist Trapped in up, in which we visit the scene of the crime! That's right. Head down to Union Square and pop inside the Weinstein Gallery where a disgruntled employee is OVER my questions about the Picasso Bandit.
Up now, on SFGate...

Thursday, July 07, 2011

barbara wears a size five...

Every visit to Kaiser is like an episode of Twin Peaks. I know I say this alot. But I'm there more often getting my B-12 shots (are you grossed out that you know weird medical things about me? I am.) and am subjected to Krazy Kaiser with great regularity.
Today, Barbara the Head Nurse shot me up. Babs is 5'1". I know this because she told me. She told me because she was MESMERIZED by my height, which is 5'11". While I am used to people saying things like, "Oh! You're tall!" to me, I expect a more blasse reaction from someone in medicine. Babs made it seem like the Tallest Man in the World statue broke free from Ripley's and came down to Kaiser for some B-12.
"What size shoe are you?" Babs asked. "If you don't mind my asking."
Barbara then gave me advice on where I could find HUGE shoes, namely the internet and Norstrom Rack "on delivery day."
Why, Head Nurse Barbara, would I know the shipment schedule of the Nordstrom Rack?
But since my shot prescriptions are all just plugged into the computer and I can show up, get shot up and leave, my time discussing what a freak I am with a nurse was short. I then had to pay a dollar for my parking, which is when things got specifically odd.
First of all, you need to validate at Kaiser, like it's the Sundance Kabuki Theatre.
Second of all, the machine couldn't read my credit card, so I had to shove a dollar in there, and I apparently caused a little passive-aggressive scene while I did this because the middle-aged man ('middle-aged' in a GIFT) next to me made a big point of noticing.
He and I had to wait for an elevator together, which took forever. This guy openly started at me in the elevator nook until I looked back.
"Did it accept your money?" he asked.
"Barely!" I said, and then looked away. He continued to aggressively stare.
"Having a rough morning?" He asked, now in funeral director voice.
"Nope. Not really!" I smiled, looked at him to show I wasn't avoiding eye contact, and then looked away.
He continued to look at me so I asked, "What about you?"
"No." He said this mock-calmly, like he was talking to a hysterical person. "I am having a fine morning."
"Awesome for you." I said looking away.
We were in the elevator at this point and obviously, traveling two agonizingly slow floors with this guy was really awkward. It was clear that he had formed some bizarre and specific opinion about me and was deciding how to handle it.
I don't think he was interested, if you catch my drift. I think he was looking to involve himself in someone else's shit. And somehow he had misinterpreted my shit (big feet and a wrinkly dollar) into hardcore shit (meth addiction.)
When we finally got to his floor, the doors SLOWLY opened, this guy turned to look at me as he exited and says in the most sympathetic, concerned citizen voice possible, "Take care of yourself."
"Thank you." I said. "YOU TOO..."

Wednesday, July 06, 2011

oh relax, it takes 2 seconds. (that's what she said...)

Today's Culture Blog is up! In it, I help a charming British lady realise her dream of becoming an advice columnist. Sorta. And now, on to the real news...

So remember that 7x7 Magazine popularity contest I told you about? The Hot 20 Under (and Over) 40 Reader's Choice Contest? I made the 49 Finalists and was very excited about it? Well hold onto your hats because guess what? I'm now one of the remaining 20 finalists!

Basically, 7x7 picks 19 too-cool-for-school people and the commoners get to pick the 20th. I survived the first round of voting, and now we're onto the second round. I find out if I made the 7 finalists next week, and a week after that we find out the Reader's Choice winner. So long story long, will you please vote for me by clicking on this link, scrolling to the bottom and clicking on my name? Thanks. I really appreciate it. And tell your friends too? Awesome. You're the best.

And in case I still haven't convinced you, look at this:

Seriously. Look at me! I was the tallest ghost in a Ghostbusters dance routine. I need this. I need this bad...

Tuesday, July 05, 2011

i've got to go see more live music in intimate venues...

I have created a perfect Pandora station for reading. (Mom, pandora is a website/iPhone app in which you pick a song or artist and Pandora will automatically create an endless station of similar music.)
Anyway, my station started with "Claire De Lune" by Debussy, but mostly it's classic old-school piano music. Every song could be in a Woody Allen movie, provided someone needs to walk around in the rain. There's lots of slow jazz versions of "Moon River."
Twice tonight, I've heard versions of Duke Ellington's "I've Got It Bad (and that ain't good.)"
I've decided this is a sign, in which a deceased person in heaven is using modern technology to communicate with me.
My grandfather, the late, great Bob Spotswood took my Nonie on a date once, to see Duke Ellington at a nightclub. They sat with another couple at a cabaret table way up front, right against the stage. And I guess at one point, people started shouting out requests. So my grandfather, WHO WAS RAD BY THE WAY, shouts out, "I Got It Bad!"
And Duke Ellington looks down at him and deadpans, "Oh? You have?"
My grandfather thought this was pretty much the bees knees and he told me this story a lot. He told this story way better than I have. He'd get into the gossip of the other couple they were with. Maybe the guy was a cheap tipper, maybe the gal "wasn't what you'd call a great beauty but she was funny as hell." I just liked the way my grandfather worded things, and I liked how he felt when he told that story.
Anyway, not only did I love my grandfather but I really, really liked him. He told me a million stories, but I will always remember his retelling of the time he requested that Duke Ellington sing, "I've Got It Bad (and that ain't good). Now, everytime I hear that song, I'm convinced my grandfather is trying to tell me something.
I have heard this song twice tonight. So either, I need to mix up my stations a little more or Bob's trying to tell us all there's going to be an earthquake...

Saturday, July 02, 2011

let me tell you a'somethin' about my family, part two...

The most important work being done right now on the internet is Jay Mohr's blog about the Real Housewives of New Jersey on Jay Mohr, if you're unfamiliar, played Bob Sugar in Jerry Maguire. That's pretty much it.
It's helpful if you've watched the episode prior to Jay's recap, but it's probably entertaining even if you haven't. I, of course, have seen the episode.
I have always seen the episode.
Joy Mohr is both really funny in his observations of these wonderful ladies and their families. But he also takes it really seriously. Like, more so than you or I. And I take this pretty goddamn seriously. For example Jay asks, " could Melissa say regarding her husband, 'He wants his sister to be real,' when last week Joey Gorga told Teresa to her face that, 'Melissa doesn't like you, because you tell it like it is.' Pick a lane Gorgas, which is it? Do you want Teresa to be real or are you mad at Teresa for being real? I need to know, like, for real."
This guy is invested in the show, right? Personally, I don't care if she's mad because Theresa is or isn't real. Unlike Jay Mohr. He cares big time. WHICH I LOVE.
He also says wonderful bon mots such as, "Jacqueline seems uncomfortable around the guns and says to Chris, 'I'm getting my period. Do you really want me around guns?' I think that was Aileen Wuornos' defense..."
When Jacqueline said that, the only thing I could think of was, "Is that the kind of shit you tell your husband when you're married? Do I have to do that if I get married? I don't want to be announcing when I'm on my period IN FRONT OF CAMERAS much less my beloved spouse. I will never just toss that out there, all casual, in the gun discussion."
I'm still thinking about that. Married people, is period-talk a thing? I need to know.
Back to Jay Mohr, "I have to take a time out here and give some respect to Richie. For a Lebanese guy, he is the most Italian guy I have ever seen. He looks like a handsome Andrew Dice Clay, if Andrew Dice Clay went to college. Also is anyone else worried about Richie's peripheral vision with those enormous sides he has on his glasses? He looks like a carriage horse wearing blinders."
Yes! This is so true! He totally does!
I like Richie too. I like that whole family. And I like how fucking terrified Kathy is of Caroline. I would not fuck with Caroline. Also, if I were Vito's family I would step up the deli sales because the Manzo's seem to be overcompensating with their whole, "It's no big deal that Lauren's boyfriend's family is middle class. There is much honor in hard work. And what a lovely deli you have!"
Did anyone else notice all of the "Gluten Free!" signs at the deli? Someone is turning over in their Sicilian grave at that nonsense.
Anyway, I just caught up on the latest episode and with Jay Mohr's blog and I'm all riled up about it. As I result, for this entire holiday weekend I will dress as if I am a regular shopper at Posche...

On a related video note (that's a stretch) there was no Necessary Conversation today because the Pride Parade episode is taking forever to edit. We have 21 interviews (including Brock!) and it's a doozy to put together. We're thinking Wednesday? I hope it'll be worth the wait!

Friday, July 01, 2011

my next goal is to appear in highlights...

Last night was the San Francisco Magazine Best of the Bay Party. San Francisco is run by glossy, over-sized magazines, so just get used to it. These important periodicals officially decide what's cool.
Anyway, I ended up running into lots of people I knew and lots of people my perfect friend Catherine knew. Melissa was there too, but since no one was discussing the intricate complexities of local government policy, she bailed. Melissa cannot be won over by free crostini.
I can! You could stick barf on a toasted slice of baguette, tell me it's rustic burrata and I'd be like, "What is this I taste? Elderflower? What is this chunk? Fiddlehead fern?"
Catherine was very excited to play skeeball, set up in one corner. I was more excited for the wacky photo-shoot opportunity where you immediately get emailed a digital version of the photo. And they do NOT (I repeat do NOT) let you hem and haw over your image. ?"Oh, lemme just try another one with..."
That gold jacket was provided. It's American Apparel. How bad is it that I kinda want one? We decided that if we used the actual magazine in our picture, they might put us in said magazine. Catherine knows this instinctively whereas I'm all, "Oh, I get it! Great idea!"
These are the things they don't want you to know, by the way. If you want your fancy society mug to show up in print, you've got to be LOVING a Charbay Blood Orange Cosmo while being delighted by a Kara's Cupcake while visibly bopping to DJ Funky Frisco or whatever.
And obviously, I don't care about this stuff in the least. Nope. Not me.
So enough with SF Mag who has no idea who the hell I am and onto 7x7 who might. Cheekily asking my friends to vote in this Reader's Choice thing feels like I'm running for Junior High Sergeant at Arms. And I'm kinda pretending like I don't care, which I think we all know is bullshit. It is emotionally impossible for me to care more.
But if I make it to the next round, because a blogger being kicked off an internet contest in the first round is embarrassing, I will celebrate by buying that dumb gold jacket...

*I should also point out that two of my friends are on this list. Anna at Marlowe and Zach at Portal A are great, wonderful and cool people. So if you have a deep aversion towards voting for me (and how could you not?) you could vote for them. Since everyone votes in this. I mean, really.