Before i get to the weekend, i have to praise Editors for their wonderful show at Popscene on Thursday night. V and i picked up Jenz and Dionne in the Mini before heading to 330 Ritch. Despite Popscene kingpin Aaron's repeated assurances that the show would be sold out, i maintained my doubts as i was unsure where all these people had heard of Editors ... they're not in regular rotation on the radio, and i haven't seen them on MTV2 either. Nevertheless, the bay area audiophiles did show and the venue was full, although not quite the same kind of crunch as when Kasabian played their anniversary party. The dashing four men who make up Editors came on just after 11:30pm and launched into "Lights". The volume was a not quite loud enough for my liking, but the band sounded great. The guitar dynamics from the Back Room were represented very effectively live, and frontman Tom Smith's voice resonated wonderfully. To be my nitpicking self, i did think the drummer had some problems keeping time ("Fall" began at an inexorably slow pace, and accelerated and decelerated randomly thereafter), and something weird happened during "Munich" when Smith abandoned the lyrics during the central breakdown. But all in all they fully met my expectations.

Not being a regular club kid these days, my 2am Thursday wreaked havoc on my Friday. I presided over our biweekly journal club, but was ruined for the afternoon. When i got home, i collapsed into bed and awoke only to order a late night pizza from our local Brick Oven.

V's employer was conducting inventory on Friday and Saturday mornings, so after being at their Palo Alto store at 5:30am on Friday, she again rose early (7am, a little better, but not much) on Saturday to count shoes at their San Francisco warehouse. I leisurely arose around 9:30am and did some minor tidying before showering around 11:30am. I had arranged to meet V in the city after she finished, which happened earlier than expected at noon. As V had picked me up from work the day before, my Jetta was still at Stanford so i walked through the rain to Caltrain. Naturally my umbrella was in my car, so i was forced to use Veronica's old Sanrio Bad Batz Maru umbrella ... something on which i feared commentary from fellow pedestrians. Luckily none came my way. I read Holy War (i'm through the motivation and state of Europe before the first Crusade, but now the author has chosen to skip ahead to the formation of Israel to draw modern parallels ... i'm a bit confused but i'll plow forward) on the train, meeting V at 1:30pm. We did a bit of sale shopping at Paul Frank (another polo for me, as well as a black hoodie ... sorry Geoff, i couldn't resist) and had a look at swanky shoes for me at Arthur Beren before leaving downtown to fetch Jenz at her work. Our threesome then had an early dinner at V's old favorite Thailand Restaurant in the Castro. We got in more shopping around Castro St., including me getting yet another track top, this one bearing Spain's colors, crest, and a big block ESPAÑA across the back. Wearing this you'd think i support Liverpool ... ha ha. After a quick drink at Trad'r Sam's to introduce Jenz to its Polynesian charms, we then headed over to the Marina for our friend Donald's going away party. A few rounds of drinks were followed by a late night slice at Pizza My Heart, before returning to an irked, dinnerless Tara in the wee hours. She forgave us as soon as her food bowl was filled.

We had invited my parents over for dinner on Sunday, so i went food shopping during the early afternoon's Denver/Pittsburgh AFC championship game, after seeing the early tit-for-tat in the first quarter. I decided on Rachael Ray's grilled chipotle T-bones with cilantro lime butter, along with some sauteed veggies, mashed potatoes, and salad ... a very yummy recipe that's not too complicated or involved. I returned home to find Pittsburgh soundly beating the Broncos. As i'd expected all season, sooner or later the real Jake Plummer was going to doom the Broncos, and although it took a while, he finally did return to his old mistake-ridden, ineffective ways. I prepped the food before sitting down to watch the late afternoon Seattle/Carolina NFC championship. While the pundits had all predicted yet another huge game for Panthers receiver Steve Smith, the Seahawks had other ideas. They regularly put two if not three or four men on him, basically telling the Panthers "if you want to beat us, you're going to have to do it without him". It worked to perfection as Smith quickly got frustrated, and quarterback Jake Delhomme looked lost without his primary target. The folks arrived around 4:30pm and brought some yummy grilled polenta cakes and salami to munch on while i finished din-din. Tara whined away while we ate, but she was finally satiated when my dad put some spare steak in her bowl. After relaxing with some coffee, my parents headed back to Fremont and i whiled away the rest of the evening returning the house to order and playing a bit of SOCOM: Fireteam Bravo on the PSP.

The city accelerated their repair schedule as it concerns our house, so as i left the house this morning at 7:40am i was greeted by two workers readying the street for cutting in order to repair our broken sewer pipe. We'll see how the situation has progressed when i get home this evening ... they've given every indication that the job can be completed in a day, but i have my doubts.