Late night Thursday.

Today is not going well for me so far. After getting home at 3 (okay, not awful, if late), I set my alarm for 8 and proceeded to wake up at 6:45. Feeling nauseous and pensive, I tried to go back to sleep, which was a toss-and-turn affair for the next hour or so. At 8, however, I steeled myself and took a shower, got dressed, and started the morning kitchen routine. Coffee was ground; bread was placed in the toaster oven. Allergy meds and multivitamins were taken.

Only to promptly find themselves in the toilet.

So my boiling water intended for coffee was instead poured over a bag of organic peppermint tea, and I guess I'll try the plain toast later. I've emailed in sick (boss wouldn't be there yet), but if this is some passing bug, I plan to go in later. There is a lot going on today, I think.

Anyway, I was all set to talk about the interesting night I had in Santa Cruz, but now I feel icky. I could still write about it, though. It'll pass the time until I can call my boss.

The plan was to go see Dan Bern at the Attic. I was asked to wear a skirt--black--for reasons I can't quite explain. The overall goal for my appearance was "wicked," though in a totally non-New Englander sense. I bought myself some fishnets the other day when I scored the non-heeled boots at Ross (which also made an appearance, and are quite comfortable) and packed those with a knee-length black skirt and my amusing pink "Fuck! War Heads!!" shirt, figuring this would be enough costuming for one non-Halloween night. My pink shirt was denied in favor of the plain long-sleeved black tshirt I was wearing, but I otherwise must've looked all right. I didn't even see myself in a mirror, and as far as I know, there are no photos.

For dinner, we went to Mobo Sushi because I'd never been and the Editor felt this was a serious oversight. I indulged in my once-a-month-or-so fish, eating rolls with smoked salmon and eel (and one lovely veggie roll) that were completely delicious. He also made me try (made me!) warm sake, which isn't bad, because the burning alcohol sensation is somewhat masked by the burning heat sensation.

We arrived at the Attic in time to see the opening act, about whom we made snarky comments throughout the set because we are mean. Too much noodling. Dan Bern finally came on and played a lengthy set almost entirely composed of unreleased material, much to the Editor's chagrin. Apparently he hates to hear things he hasn't heard before. However, even he had to admit that it was really good shit, and he bought the 2-disc recording of the set that they made and sold on the spot.

The show ended around 11, but the Editor was not done. He knows a guy (he knows lots of guys) who does the midnight movies at a local theater, and that guy was testing Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. So we sat in an otherwise empty theater in the middle of the night and watched that while his friend showed Dead Alive in another theater. The movie was good, and I saw the inside of a projection booth for the first time, which was strangely really cool for me.

It was a late fucking night. The movie ended just before 2, and as I said above, I got home at 3. And today I feel sick, but my Netflix rentals didn't even get here, so I don't know what I'll do with myself until I feel better.