It’s a cold and foggy New Year’s morning here at the beach, and I am up fairly early because I have a party to throw. Last night? Went to The Vine at about 4:30 and drank some great wine, then rushed home at the early hour of nine o’clock to catch Radiohead’s “Scotch_Mist” on Current TV.

I have to say… or confess, whatever… that I cried through most of the first showing. Whatever stuff I’ve been holding in since March 27 came out last night between about 9:15 and 9:45. I love this band so much that I couldn’t even control myself. Thank all the gods here and in the universe for Radiohead.

There was another showing at 10:00 and I made it through that one OK, and I am listening to it right now, because it’s on current.com. Don’t know for how long, but I’d advise everyone who reads this to try to check it out. I was, am, totally blown away by it. This pretty much says it all:

As for my party? Got lots of food, lots of wine, and lots of good friends coming. Should be a good day, one with no tears.

I’m gonna be quick because a taxi is picking me up at 4:30 AM and I’m going to try my best to sleep by nine. The good thing is, I am fairly exhausted. Exhausted and hot and still thinking about last night’s Wilco show.

This is the problem with Wilco – they are so good that they can’t totally blow my mind anymore. They’ve spoiled us rotten already. Don’t get me wrong, this was an awesome concert. I guess it is kind of like your wine palate. If you keep drinking better and better wines, your palate is going to get more picky, and there is nothing you can do about it. Same with Wilco. It’s always so good that your palate gets a little dull after a while. I loved the show but I wasn’t buried in the sound, and I wasn’t levitating. I did, however, have an excellent time. Better for my back and my ears in the long run. But I kind of wish I was still a virgin sometimes.

We were extremely close to the stage, and the band, as always, put on an amazing show. There was a full moon and the air was sort of sultry. I drank a beer. Crazy, I know, but Bob handed it to me, so I drank it. Before the show we drank wine and ate cheese in a nice, leafy patio on the San Diego State campus, two seconds away from the venue, and Danny Miller came by, which was awesome. I’m such a goober that I gave him a Poptarticus Tshirt and some colored Sharpies in hopes he could procure some autographs on it and send it on later. Would be cool, but the band probably thinks I am a total freak.

Cool things about the show (besides it being, well, awesome): Nels Cline’s unbelievable guitar playing and his cool black and white striped socks. Glenn Kotche getting up from his kit with both drumsticks in the air in the beginning of “I’m the Man Who Loves You.” Glenn Kotche’s crazy drum freakings on “Misunderstood.” Glenn Kotche’s sweaty hair. And then, Jeff Tweedy’s rant on a guy eating nachos. The guy came in on song five and proceeded to eat some nachos. Bad move, dude. I totally agree with Jeff on this one, but on the way home, I was the only one who thought this was bad form.

Please, people. Don’t eat when genius is happening in front of you. It is just Not Cool. Ever. Do people eat at the symphony? At church? If rock ‘n’ roll is church, then a Wilco show is High Mass. Skeptical? Check this out:

So I have to try to sleep now. And when I next write, I will be in Paris. Thank you Wilco for getting here before I left!

I am all a-tingle.

This is going to sound crazy to some people but I started to cry when I watched this. Because, TONIGHT IS THE WILCO SHOW.

I love, love, love, love this band. Wait, let me say that again. I love, love, love, love this band, times infinity.

We have the best seats in the house. I will try really hard to stay grounded. Forget that – it is impossible. I will be practically levitating.

It was a total party weekend, and I am recovering. Saturday we had a slowtrav party, first at the Del Mar racetrack and then at the OB Vine. Palma baked this pizza rustica because I asked her to, and added a special touch on top. She’s awesome.

We had a very fun day and a great night.

Last night, there was a party two doors down at the home of Wes, one of the Vine cooks. It was a great party with live music and I stayed way too long. They didn’t have enough wine so I kept running home for more. I met some cool people, including the neighbor right over the fence from me, who has lived here for two years and I have never talked to her before! She’s from Brazil. I am glad that after all this time, I’ve got to know her a little.

So, a bit tired and hungover today, but I am oh so excited for tonight and I hope I can make it through the rest of the day without crying from happiness. And tomorrow would really suck, except that Wednesday I am FLYING TO FRANCE. Whoo hoo! The good times are killing me.

Here’s an awesome video of Monday night’s Rush show at Coors.

WOW! We were sitting very close to this person; and I think you can even hear us, which is kind of embarrassing.

Oh well, I’ll cure my embarrassment with Hurricanes and Beachcombers at Brian’s Birthday Luau at the beach today. Rum + all day at the beach = forgetfulness. Which is what a summer Saturday is all about, right?

Life is weird. One day, you are bored and nothing is happening and you feel totally removed from everything, and then one day everything happens at once and angst spews, and then, one day, you have so much fun that it makes up for the boring or uncomfortable days, and then that day stretches into several days. It’s at these times that life is really and truly a fantastic experience.

Over the weekend, my friends Sue and David came to visit from San Jose. For just over twenty-four hours we did the tourist thing in Ocean Beach. It’s a wonderful thing, to show friends around a place that you love, especially when they seem to take to it right away. We ate and drank and walked all over this fabulous little town, taking in the sunset, and the Sea World fireworks; walking along the longest pier on the West Coast, and eating a fine spread of sandwiches, fried foods, fish tacos, and pizza. Not to mention the libations.

Ocean Beach – food and drink wise – is pretty awesome considering it’s small size. Sunday, as we ate a sumptuous meal of fried shellfish chased with white wine, bloody marys and “Arnold Palmers” at the South Beach Bar & Grill. I ran into one of the local bar managers here. I was like, what up? And she said, well, I’m hungover. And I said, there is no place better to fix that than South Beach. Good Fried Food, she said. Alcohol, I said. And that pretty much sums it up. That and the blue skies and Harley exhaust. We live in a beautiful world.

Last night I went to see Rush at Coors Ampitheatre with Brian and his friends Joe and Michael. There is something really special about an arena show and somehow, Coors is the one of the best places to see one. All the diehard fans seem to come out, and the dusty parking lot is filled with vehicles from all over Southern Cali and also, Mexico. People tailgate and throw frisbees in what only can be described as perfect summer light. Once again, a beautiful world.

Once in, I ran back and forth between my own seat with Brian and Joe and Michael to box seats held by Mark, Andy, and a bunch of other dudes. When I first got there one of them asked me if I was going to blog about the show! Well, I must say, I feel very badly for neglecting the blog when out of nowhere here comes a reader. Oh well.

Then Rush comes on and what can I say? It was an incredible show, effortlessly performed. Those dudes play for three hours and they don’t appear to ever break a sweat! And they don’t overcharge for tickets, yet put on this stellar, long, show with the audience in mind. I can’t think of any other band that does it quite like that.

Geddy Lee sings “One likes to believe in the freedom of music” and I do. I believe not only in the freedom, but also in the way music makes me feel. Music makes me feel like I am in love every single day. Music slays me, uplifts me, and sometimes rapes me. Last night, with several thousand other people, music – Rush’s music – made me happy, beyond young, in awe. We live in a beautiful world.

On the way home, we stopped at a 24 hour taco shop on Midway called Santana’s. I have passed by a million times but have never been there. It was a Monday at midnight and I was eating a chicken achiote taco, totally in love with life. Now it is Tuesday and I am still in love. Sometimes, life slaps you to remind you what it is you have been missing, or taking for granted.

I’m a masochist I guess. Bring it on.

I woke up today to blue skies. It’s been a foggy summer, so far, but after last summer, where we were all standing in front of fans just trying to cope, I have been enjoying this years mild temperatures and bleak skies. In fact, I love them.

This, coming from someone who grew up in fog, and hated fog, for most of her life. Now I love the fog! Love it!

It hasn’t been the easiest month, and for some reason, July is never that easy for me. It’s like my Full Moon Month. No way to really figure this stuff out, so instead, I immerse myself in music.

I can’t stop listening to these guys. Norfolk and Western. The sick thing is, I might have seen these guys open up for Sparklehorse a few months ago, but I didn’t show up in time. Now, I am truly bummed.

Not bummed about this though: this weekend my friends Sue and David are coming to San Diego. I met Sue because she bought my book, then read this blog, then wrote to me. And since then, we have become good friends, and I adore them. So if there is one truly great thing that happened because I wrote a food guidebook, that thing would be my friendship with Sue and David.

And since I was discussing Sparklehorse, at least in passing, these are the lyrics that have been slaying me these days:

and i did swallow stained glass tears
absorbed by the sun for many light years
and the fire flies in her hair
my red concertinas coming down the stairs
and the hurricane of her eyes
wailed away the knives
the knives of summertime, summertime
the knives of summertime, summertime
the knives of summertime

I don’t know what it means, but I love it.

Wilco promised, tonight, a live stream of their show in Indianapolis, but it didn’t happen. Technical difficulties. (And it wasn’t just me.) Whateves, instead I listed to the archive of a show in London in May. My god! Who needs tonight when you’ve got May 21 – it is truly an awesome show. You can even scroll ahead (IF YOU MUST,) to when they play Spiders… well… well… well, that is pretty much musical orgasm right there.

I am sure the Indy show will be up soon too, and Wilco is coming to San Diego on August 27. I am grateful as I thought, due to technical difficulties, I might miss seeing them live on this tour.

As for Top Chef, everything I would like to say, has been said. And I have some big personal news, but I will wait until tomorrow until I tell you that, because Wilco is interferring.

Britt Daniel and Spoon are in town so inevitably I have been doing too much fantasizing. As in, will I walk into The Vine and he will be there? Or, will I walk into the Waterfront Bar and he will be in there? Or, will he be at the Raveonettes show at the Casbah?

The real question is: would would I do if he WAS at one of those places? Catastrophe averted; Britt Daniel was not at The Vine, or the Waterfront, or the Casbah yesterday.

Even without Britt’s non-appearance it was still a great night. I love the Raveonettes and I think I especially love Sune Rose Wagner. Everyone stares at Sharin Foo but to me Sune is infinitely more interesting. I fell in love with Sharin Foo when I saw the Raveonettes in 2005, because from afar she was this punky ice goddess who looked like she would be happiest putting out a cigarette on your neck with the heel of her shoe but last night, she was all shy and sweet (“is it OK if we play some new songs?” How nice of her to ask.)

On the other hand Sune let loose with the most insane reverb I have heard in a long time and had the most penetrating stare… at one point he stared straight at me for the longest minute and eventually I had to look away. It was pretty hot, let me tell you.

This is kind of dark but it is a very good representation of the show last night. It was a great show with an adoring (though somewhat obnoxious) audience.

After the show, Sharin Foo was working the merch table! Mark’s friend Claire, who came to the show with us, got her picture taken with her. Like I said, so nice. No sight of Sune there though.

Onward. Guess what today is? SPOON AND INTERPOL DAY. I am pretty stoked, though the place they are playing looks hella massive (a football field? Krikey).

I’m hoping to smuggle a couple of these in. A single serving of Pinot Grigio in a Tetra Pak. Awesome!

I am still reeling from that show – the absolute best thing about youtube is that you can relive everything without even having a camera of your own.

Also – this was Arcade Fire’s last song before the encore – and after they left the stage the audience kept singing the ooo ooo until they came back on.

Sigh. Good thing I am seeing Spoon and my man Britt on Sunday. Otherwise this week would be looking mighty bleak.

How the hell do I even begin to write about Friday night and the Arcade Fire show at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley? I have been sitting here starting a sentence, and then erasing it, then sitting a while, then trying again. The problem is, shows like that defy description. How do I tell you, the reader, about my complete and total ascension into some kind of altered state where I could barely contain myself? I was shaking, I was floating, I was screaming. For an hour and a half, I lost myself.

In other words, it was a really, really good show. It was better than a good show; it was one of the best nights of my life.

It’s really weird that I lived in San Francisco for fifteen years and the Bay Area for over twenty and this was the first time that I ever saw a show at the Greek Theatre. I don’t know why – could be that I really just don’t care for Berkeley too much, could be that there was never anyone I really wanted to see there. So Friday, on the way over from the city, I was sort of in the dark about where we’d sit and how it would be. So I sort of took this zen attitude that whatever happened, happened, and that no matter what it would be awesome. Still, I made Colleen get to Berkeley at 6:30 and we were in line before the doors even opened. Once in, I was totally stoked – what a fantastic place to see a show! Way better than the Greek in L.A. All the people in front of us went straight to the pit, while we snagged seats in the very first row of the hard, steep, concrete seats to the left of the stage. I am 100% sure that I was the only one there that had a “Point Loma Pointers” butt cushion. One of my oldest friends, Angie, and her husband were coming to the show so we saved a couple of spots for them and then I went out in search of wine.

Here is one weird thing about the Greek Theatre in Berkeley – or maybe it’s not so weird, since it IS BERKELEY after all. They have cocktails, but they are made with some weird Korean liquor that is only 20% alcohol. Yick. Also, the wine? Yick. But I got two glasses and we tried to drink them. I got about two sips down and then I was like, fuck this and I went out on a search mission. Somewhere in that cool space, I was sure, there was a better glass of wine to be had. Sure enough, I climbed up to the very top of a hill and way in the back there was a little hut selling halfway decent Pinot Noir! For the same price as the swill. Here is another thing I loved about our seats at the Greek – on the wall in front of me, there were two extruding pipes that were perfect cup holders. I don’t think that was the intention, but it worked for me. Thankfully when Angie and Eli came, she knocked over the glass of Bad Wine that I had put there, therefore I did not feel guilty about not drinking a seven dollar glass of swill. It was on the ground, where it belonged. After I had my first cup of Pinot I went back up and got two more and put them in my two pipe-cup-holders. I was good to go.

Meanwhile, the Greek was filling up, but not nearly as fast as I thought it would. I mean, this was a sold out show, didn’t everyone want to get there and get the best possible seat? I guess not. I was really, really happy that I was in the front row looking over the sea of heads. Looking around, I was absolutely sure that this would be the Best Crowd Ever, way better than an L.A. crowd.

The openers, Electralane, were good – four chicks and lots of feedback. I couldn’t sit still though. It’s hard to sit still when you are about to see one of your favorite bands. All the people behind me were having no problem however. I think they were there more to have a picnic then to see a band. Hmmm.

When Arcade Fire finally hit the stage, the pit – which was packed with several thousand people – erupted, and I was instantly on my feet. The band opened with Black Mirror and for the next four songs I was almost could not cope with the emotions that were running through me. After Black Mirror they played Keep the Car Running and No Cars Go, and between each I had to take really deep breaths because I was shaking uncontrollably from adrenalin and some kind of crazy frenzied joy. That band is SO GOOD. I’ve seen them before; I’ve read about their shows a gazillion times; I listen to them at home all the time, and they still managed to virtually lift me up and throw me down over and over. It was crazy.

Regine then sang Haiti, coming out with her signature jerky eighties dance move thing she does, and she just completely annihilated me. She sang the fucking roof off of that song. It was about now that I looked around and I was the ONLY PERSON STANDING UP. No one else was standing up! It was really weird. I made my friends stand up – well, not Colleen because she was a) jetlagged and b) had a cold and c) still came with me despite a and b. All those other people? They were lame.

After Haiti I managed to come down a little and this is good because I think I was at risk of a music induced epilepsy attack or maybe a stroke. The show had a bit of a slow time and when Regine sang “In the Backseat” I decided I hated the rest of the audience in the stands. They were TALKING. Talking, during that quiet, magical beginning of In the Backseat! What are you doing here, people? I tried hard to tune out the voices and listen only to Regina’s plaintive wail, and I felt connected to her when she raised her voice higher and higher until the assholes could not be heard. My tenuous connection to reality was kept from breaking by the guy behind me asking his friends if they wanted more cherries. They brought me back to earth, the fuckers. For a while, anyway.

The band played on; they were everything everyone has ever said about their live show. Energetic, enigmatic, and incredibly talented. Still, I was the only one standing (except for Eli and Angie, and everyone in the pit) until about 3/4 through the show, when they played Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) and I looked back and there was a little pocket of people behind me standing up and dancing. I am still unsure how it is even possible to sit down during a show like that. I was practically making an indent in the concrete with my heels. Everyone in the pit made up for the slackers in the seats – they were dancing, surging towards the front, screaming (as we all were, I think) the lyrics; and when the whoo hoo whoo hoo woohoo part of Tunnels kicked in, I do believe all the Arcade Fire fans at that show went absolutely ballistic. It was, is, a moment that I will never forget.

They ended the set with a brutally awesome Rebellion (Lies) and I think I finally blew my voice out on this one because I was screaming so loud. I am almost crying now, thinking about it; the thousands of people jumping up and down in the pit, the band playing their hearts out, and the heavy mist falling on my flushed face. It was time for the come-down, and going this high there was bound to be a brutal one.

The encore: Cold Wind, a beautiful and slow song and then Wake Up, and I was very sad because I knew it was over. I wish every night could be like that. I really do.

I’m so lucky though. Yesterday I woke up feeling like I was coming off a drug trip and my body was sore from jumping up and down on a concrete slab, but I got to hang out with Colleen and my friends Sue and David, on a lovely Saturday afternoon. And now I am with my sister-in-law Carrie and my nephew Ryan. I have a bit of a sunburn and a wine buzz. And I had the great fortune to be a part of Arcade Fire’s audience on one almost perfect night. I am the luckiest person in the world.