Escape Route

After the stress of the past week, I decided that a little escapism was in order.

It started on Friday night. My mom wanted to see Take the Lead. It was OK. My mom said that she liked Mad Hot Ballroom much more.

Saturday, after lounging and a little cleaning, I headed into San Francisco with Emerald. The plan? To see Thomas Dolby. Actually I had planned this outing at least a month ago. It was a great show. The opening bands -- Genie and Loop!Station -- were interesting as well. The show ended around 12:30 which kind of killed my idea of heading out in Berkeley. After the 30 minute drive, I realized that (1) I needed to go to the bathroom, and (2) I was hungry. Now I could have taken care of the first thing if I headed out but none of the places I was thinking of heading to were still serving food. That meant home. A shame. I had wanted to check out the Brazilian scene at the Lucre Lounge.

Sunday was more bonding time with mom. (My dad wanted me to join him in visiting with his sisters but I figured he needed that quality time alone.) She's got this thing for salsa dancing. The thing is that most of the clubs are in San Francisco. I think my mom's feelings about driving and parking in San Francisco are similar to Gloria's. This means that my mom does a lot of begging and pleading and making offers to pay my cover. Sometimes I give in -- like on Sunday. We headed to Jelly's for their Sunday afternoon party, "Club Havana." I swore that I was not going to dance. Then they played a merengue and my mom's friend dragged me onto the dance floor. His comment to my mom when we got back to the table was, "You didn't tell me that your daughter was DR."

I got home around 8:30 and of course felt that it all couldn't end there so I headed to Lucre for their soul night. Met a guy who had been at Jelly's earlier in the evening. I was bummed that the cute manager wasn't there. That meant that I had to pay for my drinks -- well most of them. Funny that I'm down for women's rights until it comes time to pay for my drinks.

I forgot to set my alarm so I was late for work -- like they would ever notice. I sit at my desk for eight hours doing stuff that really only takes me four hours. Someone shoot me now -- please.