“Remember those happy days when you swore you’d love me always?” –Delilah

Why are opera singers, specifically female opera singers, always so fat? Now if Samson and Delilah were live at the ballpark, I'd understand. After all, who can resist garlic fries? But alas! This was just a live simulcast from the Opera House. I don't know what they feed 'em over there.

I almost didn’t go because it was cold and it had been raining for a bit earlier in the afternoon, ok, drizzling, ok maybe it was just mist- it is San Francisco, after all. It didn’t rain again, but it was fuckin’ freezing and I can’t believe I didn’t think to bring a blanket. But then again, I also wore a white satin skirt, stilettos and fishnets to work that day, having forgotten all about the opera. Luckily, just before I stepped out of the house, I remembered, and threw a sweatshirt and jeans into my bag.

My bag is sometimes a bottomless pit, there's a lot of room in there. You can fit quite a bit in there and then forget all about it (and maybe that's why opera singers are fat- it makes for that perfect depth of voice). I found a pair of socks in there. And gloves. A Cliff bar. Oh, and the camera I borrowed from David, my Office Manager/friend. We sat in middle of the field, on the baseball diamond, something you’d otherwise never get to do. Our hot mayor was there (Hey there, Gavin!) (Oh wait, he’s never going to read my blog), looking smokin’. Must say, I’ve lived in both NY and Boston for just as long as I have here in SF, but I’ve seen Gavin (and I even went to an art show at Matt Gonzales’ office, during the campaign) at least 4, 5, maybe 6 times. Never saw Giuliani. Don’t even know who the mayor of Boston is. “Eat your heart out New York!” as Gavin said.

ANYWAY. The highlight of the night was garlic fries, and the guy at the garlic fries stand telling me I look like Rosario Dawson. Oh, and Gavin.