Karaoke. I mean, what did you expect? You know what I like. Here you can see Marcus reaching deep into his core to wail "Today!" better than Neil ever could.
Alisa, Marcus and I ended up embracing a couple of lurkers when we stepped up for "You're the Inspiration," which was a total hit--the whole bar was singing along (except, apparently, for the girl in the foreground of this photo). We even gained a couple of groupies who trailed us the rest of the night--you can see one of them behind us (I figure she's either bowing to show her allegiance, or casting a very powerful spell).
Encore Karaoke is easily the greatest karaoke joint I've ever been to (which statement does NOT put it in competition with Live Band Karaoke, since that is a completely different animal). Above, you will see Cameron and I giving Beck's "Sexx Laws" a sizzling treatment--I mean, what other karaoke book has "Sexx Laws"? Someone knew what they were doing. It was a great sing, especially about a third of the way through the first verse when our eyes locked in the simultaneous realization that this song is even dirtier in print than it sounds when you listen to the record--we then had no choice but to sing louder. I'm glad that every time we take out sweet little Cameron, liquor and smut seem to dominate (here's hoping he hasn't linked his mom to this blog).
If Gnu looks tired, it's probably because Encore wasn't our first stop. Oh no, dear reader, Alisa planned the kind of birthday-night-out every little pill of a girl dreams about. And believe me, I had been a pill about the whole thing--unable to get excited or contribute anything productive to the planning of my birthday (which might let you in on why I thought it best to go away by myself) I washed my hands of all decision-making and left it in her able hands. What a sweetheart she is! Before the karaoke dive, we hit the tony Top of the Mark on Nob Hill.
With the help of a first-class wedding band, we boogied down with all the elderly and foreigners the city's nightlife had to offer. There was a middle-aged woman in a white suit doing pole dance moves without the pole; a very old man cutting a serious rug with his young-enough-to-be-his-granddaughter date; an aging greek gentleman, shirt unbuttoned to his navel and at least 7 lbs of gold chain around his neck; and, everyone's favorite, an Asian lady who would turn you around on the dance floor, shove jazz hands in your direction, squeal samurai style, then lock fingers with you for a quick sweep of the dance floor (in her excitement she stabbed one of her heels through my right middle toe--but I bear you no ill will, sweet woman...you were an absolute treat).
The desserts were delish, but don't get the virgin strawberry daiquiri because you'll regret it all night.
The apron I'm wearing here (which I love love love) was hand sewn by Ashley, and was the first of two aprons I received for my birthday--I opened Alisa's lovely full length next (which I also love love love). Funny thing is the Bakers had also meant to buy me an apron, but talked to Alisa first and settled on a Williams Sonoma gift card. I don't know what it implies about me that three (actually four--Amy apparently thought about it too) people thought I'd like nothing better than an apron, and that they happened to be right. Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm reminded of the family Christmas letter my Mom wrote a couple of years ago in which she illustrated very factually what my year had been like and it made me sound like a 60 year old spinster minus the cats (I believe knitting, Relief Society and City Hall were involved). Maybe in my thirties I should embark on some hipper hobbies--you know, like turn-tabling and krump dancing. Or maybe improv...
The gift basket in the photo is the aforementioned "getaway" basket from Mackenzie (with contributions by Amy and Vicky). It was so lovely--I ate through it the next two days and soaked in some of it on Saturday night. You are all so thoughtful. And that's it, dear reader. My 30th birthday, finish to start. Believe it or not, one of the best birthdays I can remember. Maybe some time soon I'll tell you about what a relief it is to have it over with, but for now I'll leave you with some parting hotness (nothing is sexier than a banjo and a refrigerator)...