Dear Diary . . . day by day

Sunday, September 30th, 2001 - Shattered, Shopping and Sleepwalking

I had just been wondering if the foozball ever got kicked off the table when it happened. I was standing at the end of the foozball table, watching Tim and Greg take on Scott and Lynn in a foozball match at the Last Days Saloon, hoping that I wouldn't get hit in the face if someone hit the foozball too hard. Next thing I know, the Foozball is whizzing up off the table; concerned for my face, I duck. But the foozball wasn't aimed at my face; it was aimed at the flourescent lights illuminating the foozball table.
A great pop! Darkness and shattered glass rained upon us. The plastic foozball men were covered in some kind of white powder. Someone laughs.
From the reactions of the staff, who were quick upon the scene, cleaning up glass and replacing the lights, I don't think that's ever happened before. Scott had hit the ball hard, and it had ramped up one of Greg's players and into the lights. No one before us had played as hard as we had; they played more like it were a game of chess, carefully tapping the ball with the right player at the right time. Scott claimed it was his Forearms of Death that caused the accident. We didn't play any more foozball that night.
I was exhausted by the time the band we had come to see took the stage. I have determined that I hate opening bands. Even when they don't suck (but last night they did, and they sucked loudly) I'm impatient to get through their act to see the people I came for.
Last night I was tired, as I'd gotten up early and gone shopping with Susan. Susan had not required me to get up early, but Tim was rather rumbunctuous and I find it hard to fall asleep again after a tickle-fight, so I was up early (early for me, on a Saturday). Shopping was lovely and it marked the first time I've ever set foot in a mall in California since I moved here, 4 years and 4 months ago.
I was good, and didn't spend money on stuff like lingerie and lipstick (though I desperately wanted to), but contented myself with only buying some more colorful clothes to do interviews in (I only have one outfit right now, and it's black and silver and I can't wear it again to a second interview, should I get one). I also impressed Susan by helping her pick out a perfect shade of pink lipstick to go with her bridesmaid dress (and on the first try!). I'm not so good with my own lipstick, but then I always forget to bring along the garment I'm trying to match.
Anyway, we both got mall-head about the same time, and we quickly bought Susan (well, Susan bought, and confirmed the purchase was good) the cutest pair of Chinese Laundry Cinderella slippers and headed home.
Hm, this entry is all out of order. I'm not going to revise, so I hope it makes sense.
Dinner first at Ichi's, where a crowd ate free sushi and beer and sake and wished Ichi good luck on his new adventures in Japan. I'm going to miss him terribly. Even though he was super-busy making tons of free sushi, when he saw me he said, "Ah! Heather-san! Must make some Salmon for Heather-san!" Sweet man.
It was too crowded and we wanted a better atmosphere for our date, so Tim and I went over to Ninna's, where we skipped both appetizer and dessert but had yummy entrees. My salmon was good - not as good as the amazing stuffed sole I'd had at Bay Wolf the week before, but good. We had lattes after dinner, to help me wake up. Then home for some exquisite, delightful, passionate shagging. MMmmm.
And then, out to the City for the show. The directions were confusing, and I ended up getting us through the City by instinct alone (Tim doesn't have a map in his car); I was impressed with myself, that I can do this now. I don't know San Francisco super-well, but I know enough to zig-zag my way across the City and find a bar I've only been to once. Yay me.
So, the band, Rockwell Church. Like I said, I was so tired I just wanted to go to bed by the time they took the stage at 11:30. But as soon as they started, I was hooked. Tim stood behind me with his arms around my waist, the way he does at shows, and we moved together to the music. Insightful lyrics, groovin' tunes, cute lead singer . . . what more can you ask for? They were playful, too, and they covered "Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys", "Diamonds on the soles of her shoes", "Gypsy in a Bottle" (Chistina Agularia, I think) and a Counting Crows song as well. Fun, fun band.
And that was it for date night, really. I had nightmares all last night, kept waking up and going right back into them. I remember Tim holding me at one point and cooing, "It's okay, baby, I'm right here", but I don't remember walking around my room. I have sleep-walked before, but it's been years since I've had anyone around to notice, and it makes me wonder how often I do this when I have bad dreams. Sigh. But I'm so glad to have Tim in my life. He's so good to me, and so right. He's my heart's delight, my comfort. I love him very, very much.

Exercise log:
Found out the doctor didn't want me exercising anyway. Just now got the go-ahead on some cardio, with a "we'll see how it's going next week". Cool! I haven't been such a lazy butt; it was doctor's orders and I just didn't know it! Heh.
Writing log:

Current Publications:
San Francisco City Guide at EGrad.com. Written by me, edited by someone else.
I'm currently reading:
Earthquake Weather by Tim Powers
The Strange Adventures of Rangergirl by Tim Pratt
Okay, so I'm just reading the very rough first draft of the chapters fresh off the 'puter, but damn, it's already good!
My new PO Box is:
Heather Shaw
P.O. Box 13222
Berkeley, CA 94712-4222

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