is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.

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On How Goggles Can Be Hot and then Not.

Caroleen Beatty in full �Shadows of the Night� Pat Benatar costume! So hot. (As taken by Brian Mello with Marco's camera.)

Later, me, looking more silly, less hot, next to Caroleen�s hotness. (Taken by Marco.)

Remember how Caroleen, Sunny, Marco, and some of the guys from Dirty Power were set to play an all-Pat-Benatar cover set at the Eagle? Well, it happened last night! And, in sum, it was a searingly hot great show. The room was packed, and everyone there was smiling and dancing and singing and laughing at the rocking Benatarity of it all. The performance was great, as expected. Songs performed included Heartbreaker, We Live For Love, Hit Me With Your Best Shot, We Belong, Hell Is For Children, and, um, I can't remember the rest right now. Sunny had on a red mesh tshirt and white skinny tie. Marco was all muscle-shirted out, in full 80s rocker mode. EVERYONE was there (which meant that I spent a lot of time explaining why I was in town, etc.). It was fun. I ended up drunk.

Here�s the band on stage.

And a close-up of Caroleen and Sunny.

And me hugging Jeff in the audience, with Jeff looking like a stoner. He�s not a stoner.

At about this time, the second band, a Monkees cover band, was playing. They were not so good. It's not that they were terrible, it's just that they were incapable of holding my attention. Imagine what would happen if a bunch of humorless people decided to become a Monkees cover band. I am certain that the outcome would be much like what I witnessed last night. I�m not saying that any of the members of the band lack humor. I lack the resources, namely familiarity with any of the people in the group, to make such a diagnosis. Nonetheless, not only did I not like the singing voice of the lead singer at all, but she kept giving long long speeches between songs, speeches to which no one was listening, and yet she seemed not to notice, nor to care, that the crowd was not there for speechifying. It bugged.

Anyway, at about this time of the evening, after an hour or more of happy drinking and singing and dancing, my sister and friend of hers walked up to me to ask where the bathroom was. I said, �Oh. Um, yeeeeeaaaaaah. You have some options. You won�t like them.� I mean, we were in a bear bar. We�re women. Option one: go up on the stage with the band, walk through the midst of them to the back right of the stage and use the one toilet that is in its own room. It is ON THE STAGE. Two: use one of the portapotties out in the beer garden. They aren�t lit and so there is bound to be drunk bear urine everywhere. Three: Pee in the trough in the communal men�s room. My sister was confused by this, so I gave her a physical demonstration (fully clothed, no urine shed, of course) of how she might accomplish this. I know because I�ve explored all three options. Oh, and the fourth option is to wait until the band is over and then get in the long line that will form to use the on-stage toilet in its own room. I think Natalie opted for the portapotty option. That is the least charming aspect of the Eagle, the toilet situation. But man, I do love the Eagle anyway. It�s like the modern San Francisco version of the wild west, where normal rules get bent to fit a different kind of jurisdiction, and as long as you�re cool with that, everyone is welcome because the crowd is so varied that you just couldn�t ever be a misfit there. Plus the drink prices are great.

Evany's all fired up about Twitter, a service where you can update all your friends via text message or email, or even update your blog, from the road using your cellphone. She mostly uses it to post impromptu details to her blog (it's a new feature in the left margin of her site), like "UPS is the devil" or something like that. Tonight, when we were shopping for party supplies, she posted this: "Bevmo is playing the most ghastly music that ever was, jill suspects they're trying to drive us to drink." It's true. That is what I suspected.

Yesterday I saw Pan�s Labyrinth. I have a lot to say about it, but so far I haven�t quite figured out how to say it. The film hit me at the level of childhood memory, which is an odd thing to try to express. Perhaps I�ll say more later.

10:34 p.m. - February 16, 2007
majortominor - 2007-02-17 14:04:12
I love the idea of a completely humorless, long-winded Monkees cover band. I just love it.
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majortominor - 2007-02-17 14:09:51
oh, and also, the goggles. a lot has to happen to make jill look cartoonish. a whole lot. and even when it happens, as it did, the results land firmly on the side of holy shit, that's cute.
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Marti - 2007-02-19 10:11:53
I'm sorry; I hate to show my ignorance, but I don't understand the term "bear bar."
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jill - 2007-02-19 18:47:52
hi marti! a bear is a kind of a gay man who is very large and hairy. that of course adds the the "wild west" feel of a bear bar. san francisco has its own language, sometimes.
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