That extra hour

...totally helped me out, because by the time I BARTed and drove home from the city, it was half past one in the morning, waaaay past my bedtime (yes, shut up, I am old now).

Matturday was awesome, with the concert preceded by dinner at Out the Door in the SF Shopping Center (which I hadn't been to in ages, and is so much nicer than I remember!). We shared a couple tepid (at best! come on) vegetarian steamed buns, then a bottle of white Bordeaux, cellophane noodles with Dungeness crab, and spicy lemongrass chicken. When we were stuffed and lightly sauced, we walked the two blocks to the Warfield, where we proceeded to drink $9 gin and tonics (and I managed to find a bar that demanded a $35 minimum on a credit card...seriously) and enjoy the dulcet tones of whatever band was the opener for the opener, Jessie Baylin. Jessie Baylin is adorable, and was dressed like a blonde Pinky Tuscadero, complete with biker jacket (no word on whether it has ever belonged to Fonzie) and rocker-chick gyrations. If I were in a more music-acquiring mood, she'd definitely be on my list. And then there was Matt! Nathanson! His shows are, as previously mentioned, on the rocking side of awesome, and last night was no exception...the notable sing-along was "Take on Me," truly a test of audience falsetto skills (luckily Andy and I are fantastic singers), a bit of "Jesse's Girl," as well as the perennial favorite of the audience doing the "I can fall alone..." background during the encore of "Answering Machine" (which holds a special place in my heart, as it was the first of Matt's songs I ever heard).

The rain that assaulted my car as I drove up to catch the train had thankfully ceased, and I had that jangly, too-alive feeling that usually follows concerts. Does that make sense? I feel like there's something about all that sensory overload that dulls and sharpens everything at the same time...