Saturday Pictures

The Whoreshoes played the Bottom of the Hill the other night, and they were awesome, as usual. The place was packed, and apart from an unfortunately offensive performance artist who acted out the part of a "hillbilly," it was a fine, fine time. Lala’s friend from the old days, Ron, was there (hi, Ron!) and he was aDORable. I’d never met him before, and he came up to me in the club and said, "You’re even more glamorous in person." I looked over my shoulder, sure that he thought I was someone else. A sweetie-pie, and he’s a great knitter — check out his first hat:

I didn’t get many shots of the show, because I only had my cell camera with me for most of it, but I like this one:

Lala uses a walker to hold her lap-steel guitar, and that’s just so punk it kills me. And do you KNOW how hard it is to find a used walker? Those are in demand, people. There must be lots and lots of lap-steel players out there, because those walkers don’t hit Craigslist that often…..

And our marathon-running gorgeous-sweater-designing Emily was there. This is a great picture of her:

Me, I look a little drunk, which I decidedly was not. I was the driver, and I was also the babysitter. Yay babysitting in a bar! Prior written consent granted, and of course, there’s no smoking in bars in California, so it’s almost as healthy an environment as a coffee shop. We just had to make sure 9 month old Dylan didn’t knock back too many tequila shooters. He didn’t. But he does play a mean game of pool.

Oh, my GOD, how cute is that? That picture is the screensaver on my phone, and it makes me happy every time I look at it. Ask Lala. I keep going, "Look! I turned my phone on! Look at him, just LOOK at him!"

All right. I’m at work, and I’m going to finish up a little Xmas knitting for that little boy up there tonight, if it stays quiet. Also, I’m going to try to not walk much. I went on a three-mile run yesterday, which was sadly longer than my recent runs, and also, the run included hills. My thighs, they don’t like the hills so much. They’re yelling at me today. Remember when I could run seventeen? Twenty? Twenty-six twice? Not so much anymore. Three felt like fifteen yesterday. But surprisingly, I haven’t lost any speed (because I really didn’t have much to lose, but I’m still at the same pace I was last year).

I found this amazing run RIGHT near our house, just drive up the hill (no, really, it’s an incredibly steep hill), park at the dog park, run a mile and half through pretty hilly Oakland neighborhoods with Clara running at my side, then run back and let Clara run off leash a bit at the park while staring at the silvery bay below. Excellent.

Enjoy your weekend, y’all. Mwah.