Back to the Future

This weekend we celebrated Raphael and our friend Sarah's birthday, 80s style at Club Twenty Twenty in Santa Monica with the Fast Times band, which featured a group of four musicians (one dressed as Devo, another as Spicoli) playing 80s hits. 

Basically it was a night of bad clothing, good music--very rad. To get into the spirit of things, Raphael sported his Thunder Cats t-shirt and denim blazer, while I took out the scrunchy for a Pebble's look, put on my retro plastic earrings and a Madonna lacy top.

Here are some photos, at one point I can be spotted on stage. 

Thanks, you too

I have the affliction of not being able to stop myself from saying "thanks, you too," when someone says something polite even though it doesn't really fit the situation. Let me give you an example. The guy collecting and ripping movie theater tickets, hands me my stub and says, "enjoy the show." Now here is where I'll automatically respond, "thanks, you too!" Then there's that awkward stare when I realize he's not watching a movie, I am, and he doesn't want to be rude and correct me either so he just nods at the blond girl and I walk away rolling my eyes skyward in annoyance at myself. 

When the waitress goes, "enjoy your meal," I again say "thanks, you too." Grr. 

It probably started by me getting used to saying "thanks, you too," to people when they wished me a good day, there it applies at least, but then my standard response became contagious I guess.

PS: We hate Ed Duggan and his manipulative journalism. No "thanks, you too" for him.

Video: iRack 

Privacy

Cause privacy is my middle name, my last name is control. No, my first name ain't baby, Its Tara... Ms. Settembre if you’re nasty.  OK, if you didn’t recognize that verse was from one of Janet Jackson’s first songs, “Nasty,” minus the Tara Settembre that is, then I guess I already lost the Blog-Off.  We’re now in the third round of the charity competition and this week’s topic is privacy.

Unlike what Jackson sings in her song, I’m not a very private person, well at least not when it comes to some things. I blog my life after all. For the last 2.5 years this site chronicles my life. One of my colleagues believes that there is a bit of exhibitionism in blogging. I guess she has a point. I like being able to write what goes on in my life here and share it with “the void.”

Heck, when living in my apt in New York, I wasn’t the type that cowered around the corners every time I needed to go out in my windowed living room  (where my bureaus were also) naked to get a different top. But in those moments I wasn’t thinking, let me show people that I’m naked, it was more like what the heck no one is looking and I can't be bothered to be shy. Sometimes I feel that way with my blog. I started off not sharing photos and leaving out details but then I found it impaired my story telling and after all who was looking, right?

Now that my readership has grown, colleagues and family are reading, I’ve been private enough not too share EVERYthing and to omit personal stuff like where exactly I live, etc, but I refuse to censor myself too much and destroy my creativity. Despite the fact that I have family members reading, I even blogged about a stimulation beverage after all, and I often post embarrassing photos of myself too.

I like sharing, I like putting myself out there, even after being burned. I refuse to loose my optimism and personality. 

However, although I might not always keep my life private, I do protect the privacy of my friends and exes ;) on my blog. You’ll notice none have ever been bashed here, just a bad date here and there explained in the past. I also ask my friends if I can post certain photos before publishing. For instance K, was totally cool with me posting this one. She's a sport and reads my blog, unlike some of my friends who rather catch the live show. But this blog is important to me and I've appreciated everyone who reads it.

PS: Below are the remaining Blog-Off contestants still on Blog Island. Originally there were 17 players and now we're down to 13. Do feel free to donate to the cause here. And yes, I arranged the links so they would look like steps. 

Write2B
Blaaahhhg
Dirka Dirka
durante vita
Joe & Sherry
Write On Track
Just Another Week
Sandra’s Goings On
Speaking Quite Franke
Have Fun Storming The Castle!
The Adventures Of Chris & Evey
With A Turn And A Twist, She Gets Her Wish

Burn baby burn

Yesterday was the Yankees' first opening day without Bernie Williams since 1991. The longtime stalwart and fan favorite, who helped New York win four World Series titles from 1996-2000, declined the club's offer of a minor league contract this off season and never came to spring training. Sad. I grew up watching him play in pinstripes out in left since I was in elementary school. He was always like an ole faithful for the Yanks, you could always depend on him for a hit and an amazing grab without much fuss off the field. 

I actually met Bernie Williams once. I didn't see him around the ballpark  or in New York even, but in San Diego. The Yankees were in town playing the Padres, and so was my family,friend and I for business and vacay. We were able to score some tickets though. After the game, I had heard that the team was holding up in the Hyatt, which was next door to where we were staying at the Marriott. Being the huge fan that I am, I immediately headed over and staked out the place. Since I apparently looked suspicious a man working for the team approached me and gave me the run around asking me questions about where I am from, etc., as a result I missed the players arriving.

Defeated, I walked about the harbor area when I spotted Bernie in street clothes. Well, not exactly "street," since he had a nice blazer on and was with his wife who was wearing a nice dress. Starstruck and never having seen him outside of his uniform, I wasn't sure if I should approach and if it was really him. I grab my friend's arm and point him out, she encourages me to go up to him, I tell her she has to come too though. I approach like a nervous school girl, stammering out "Are you...are you, Bernie Williams??" I say all this while extending a notepad for him to sign. He takes the book and signs his name and says quietly almost shyly, "Jeez I could have been Tiger Woods for all you knew," which is weird because it's not like my father was around pointing him out or something, and it's not like I just asked if he was famous and that's it, I said his name after all. Either way, he signed my autograph book and then I asked him to sign one for one of his biggest fans, my childhood friend, so he signs the book again and personalizes it to him even. I then asked if we could take a picture, but he looked around nervously afraid others would approach and he said he'd rather not. I said I understood and I smiled at his wife, thanked them and walked away elated.

I later called my friend that I got the extra autograph for and even saw Bernie walk by again, so I quickly and covertly snapped a photo, but it's from the side and at a distance so he looks like any guy in the crowd, just taller. It was a pretty cool sighting for me.  

The Yankees have won nine straight home openers and 20 of their past 23. They won yesterday too, 9 to 5 vs the Devil Rays. 

PS: Happy Birthday Raphael!  

The Edison

Over the weekend we hit up The Edison in downtown LA, a two-floor bar and lounge in a converted boiler room and power plant.  

Edison just opened in January and is located at 2nd and Main. There is no sign outside for the place and the entrance is actually on Harlem Place Alley, sort of hidden until you see bouncers and a red velvet rope outside. Get there before 9:30 p.m. to avoid lines.

The dress code is strict, our friend who joined separately got turned away for wearing tennis shoes, but it's worth the pretentiousness, because once you enter through huge metal gates you're transported into a time warp circa era 1920s. I had my 3 inch red heels on and a silk shirt, our friend was in a dress and Raphael had a blazer on, so luckily we didn't have a problem getting in.

The bar retained the architectural and mechanical artifacts from its history as a former private power plant. It felt like I was in the engine room of the Titanic. It some respects it reminded me of the exposed factory look of the Chelsea Market in NYC, but darker, with two big cocktail bars and Ella Fitzgerald and other music of the time playing. I enjoyed the chill and fun beats, but it didn't allow for dancing but more of a lounge social experience. There's also a pool table and sturdy leather chairs and stools. 

There's also a stage where flapper girl-esque dancers come out and shimmy around for two songs each hour. Unlike a burlesque show, their clothes aren't revealing and it's a fun throw back and seemed to please the crowd. I enjoyed it too.  It was a fun evening all together, check it out if you can. Here are some photos I snapped with my camera.