Hello boys and girls,
I have returned from the land of wine and fags. Mental note: Northern California is lovely; Central California is just like San Bernardino. Central California, I never want to see you again.
Friday evening, my drive began with a friendly sig-alert on I-5. Meaning that it took me an hour and a half to get from the Burbank Airport to Magic Mountain Parkway. There was no traffic for the rest of my drive, but that didn't matter much since the rest of the drive lasted a very unfriendly six and a half hours! And All By Myself, I might add. I put in my learning Spanish on CD thing and did that for a long ass time. Philip Glass kept me company as well. I probably shouldn't mention that at some point I had an intense desire to listen to one of the Vanessa Williams albums I own. Oh well; secret's out. It was approaching 1:00a when I checked into the hotel in Healdsburg, Sonoma County. I was out like a light.
Free breakfast in the morning, so you know my ass was up. I looked around the little hamlet of Healdsburg: lame. So I bought a turkey/pesto sandwich and started reading The Thief's Journal in the park downtown (no small feat, I assure you.)
The wedding was Saturday afternoon and it was lovely. It was easily the nicest wedding I have ever been to in my whole life. It was on the lawn of this mansion they rented out next to a winery. It was beautiful. There were only 21 guests, too, so it was very personal. Madison & Brantley had a card on each of our chairs with such nice stuff written in each of them. After the ceremony, which was brief but emotional, they took pictures on the lawn, while the sommelier busted out the Syrah. He offered white as well, but I ignored him, and I think nearly everyone else did too. I had already made fast friends with Maddie's younger married friends Brian and Suzy, so we spent most of our time together, laughing about casting directors and making fun of architecture (and other people's outfits, naturally). Where was I? Okay, we're eating goat cheese tartlets and bruschetta, and drinking Syrah, while the bride and groom are taking pictures. Then we ate. The mansion did all the catering themselves, so we got a choice of appetizer: Sugar Pie Pumpkin Ravioli or Endive Bleu Cheese Salad. I chose the wrong one and opted for the ravioli: foolish me, the salad was awesome. Then we got a choice of entrée: Filet Mignon, some fish, or gnocchi. The fish was really cool actually: they had stuffed it with herbs and garlic. It looked awesome. I naturally, ordered the beef and felt no guilt at all. Oh wait! I missed some stuff.
So when we got to the tables, instead of name placards, there was a silver-framed black-and-white photograph of each of the guests with their name on it and a small poem or saying on each picture. They were all pictures that either Brantley or Madison had taken themselves and wanted to share with us: so cool. Also, there was a pianist and a saxophonist on hand throughout. So after dinner and cake (which was gorgeous, as well), there was dancing and toasts and then we all talked and laughed for a while.
After that, Brian and Suzy and I went to "party in downtown Healdsburg." It was our joke, but we ended up finding a very swank place that would've fit in perfectly in WeHo or Pasadena. It was called BarnDiva's and let me tell you, they had some badass drinks here. The first thing I ordered was called "On the Beach with Fidel": some peach, rum concoction, and the second drink was some kind of gin fizz with lemongrass syrup. It was trés badass. We hung out for a while: there's a long story about a persimmon that I'll leave 'til I see you all. I got back to my hotel safe and sound.
I woke up today and decided not to hang out with the wedding party: and I'm glad I didn't because I got home around 6:00p after leaving Healdsburg at 11:15a. The long drive alone is not something I can recommend with any seriousness.
At any rate, the weekend was successful and I am tuckered out. Call me if you wanna see a movie this week. I no longer have a weeknight gig.