Dear readers, my blog is now at Vox.

Witness my very first professional makeup installation, courtesy of Chanel. Note the standard issue Hollywood bronzer a la Lohan, Theron and Stone. Literally, one of the two makeup artists who got me like this in an hour does makeup for Sharon Stone.

He said that I should never do stripes of blush because, "Nobody blushes like that." I said, "I think they think they're sculpting" to which he replied, "That's so amateur."

By popular demand, here's some backstory. When I went in to Nordstroms to buy Black Satin Chanel nail polish, the saleswoman twisted my rubber arm into a makeover by namedropping Sharon Stone's makeup artist.

That was more than enough to pencil in my appointment and brows. The expectation is that you buy some stuff as a thank you to the artists, and they get a commission. I bought eight products. Everyone's happy.

So once I was in the full-tilt gloss mode pictured above, I brought appetizers and a pasta pot to a lovely candlelit dinner party at Eitzel's. He lives a block away, so I didn't even get mussed in transit. In fact, I woke up in this makeup.

And now, when I apply my "Rose Petale" blush in the proper places, I get the wafting scent of rose petals and a reminder of being all pampered and fancy.

The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain covers a Nirvana song a bit scarily. The upside is, they clarify some misheard lyrics after all of these years.

And finally, we have an explanation for the visible tubes that protrude from the back of George W. Bush's suitcoats. Bring on The Bush Pilot.

~thanks for sending Tam and Tricia!

Nick's Big Star tribute night is on the calendar! Friday September 15th, to be exact. At 12 Galaxies. It will be in the tradition of his tribute to the Replacements, but this time it'll be all Big Star songs, all night long. Special guests to be announced. (!)

I wonder if Nick will allow songs written about Big Star at the Big Star tribute...like the Replacements song "Alex Chilton" or the Jayhawks song "Big Star."

There will be many decisions and miles to go before September 15th. Our six-year wedding anniversary is the very next day. Someone should sing a tribute to us at midnight!

Once, my fanatacism for Big Star was so ridiculous, I would say things like, "Big Star are my Beatles" and "If you don't like Big Star, I don't want to be friends with you." I've gotten a little older since. But not much.

NPR's World Cafe warms up to two beautiful new songs by Jesse De Natale. That's right! Both are lovely piano ballads of sorts, the first being undeniably anthemic, and about San Francico.

So sorry to have shown this, but I felt that if I had to see it, then so do you. Meet Guadalupe, an eliminated contestant from Project Funway Season 2. This is her in real life, representing herself, on some red carpet somewhere.

I have a deep affinity for the visual stimulus of Missoni (note the signature zigzag) but what this poor dear has done to it makes me think that she botched this up while blindfolded. Can I get a mirror here? Note to Missoni: issue cease and desist.

At least tonight brings us the 3rd season of Project Runway and all the future horrorshow personalities and outfits that go with it. Sharpen your scissors.

The rock world has kissed goodbye the legendary Syd Barrett. I personally owe him for countless hours during my teenage development. And in college, when CDs hit the marketplace, my first purchase was Pink Floyd More. And then I started replacing all my vinyl with CDs, the Bowie, the Zeppelin, the Kinks.

Our dear Syd was one of the craziest--and one of the greatest rockers ever to have lived. See you on the dark side of the moon.

Ourpal Talla is having a trunk show at an art gallery, so get it while you can.

Click "next item" to scroll through some sale merch. A girl can never have enough shirts with horses, birds, or the message "yes to happiness" on them. And that's a fact!

Thursday July 13th 6-8PM
Eleanor Harwood Gallery
1295 Alabama Street @25th
San Francisco

Like complete nutters, we went to North Beach to witness the celebration of World Cup winners in their own neighborhood. Although I took plenty of pictures of people in blue jerseys, police in full force, and throngs of traffic honking horns and hanging out of cars, they're all crap. But I did get a shot of this pup, whose leash is the proper color at least.

After being at the nicely feng shui-ed Tony Niks for champagne, we went to the big grassy Washington Square park to eat turkey, provolone and pickle foccacia sandwiches from the cafe where Nick signed Jesse DeNatale.

Something I noticed--besides a lot of really drunk people--was that several Italian men addressed me with the word, "Peace." What a lovely thing!

And everyone repeated this cheer, "Italia!" which happens to rhyme with "peace and love."

I've got Sea Ranch on the mind. Or Belize. Or anywhere. Jeez, I'd go for a Sandals all-inclusive at this point. I can't believe I forgot to have a vacation.

All right! Just booked a long weekend at our favorite house in Sea Ranch. The one where last year, Estro had her own room and could watch deer and bunnies scamper in the yard.

Nick sent me this stunning restaurant review yesterday with the subject header "Oh my god we are so going there." Must work on it, stat!

But first, a hedgehog.

A photographer I worked for after college liked to refer to giving children food from McDonald's as "child abuse."

Eating there is a guilty American pleasure, and not one that we're proud of, putting a layer of grease down the gulliver. But for breakfast, at least the Egg McMuffin uses a real English muffin, and real egg. That square orange cheese is probably not food, but it is all melty and tasty.

If you order one without meat, throw away the top half of the muffin and replace it with a thin coating of black pepper, then skip the fried potato thing, you've got yourself a hot, diet breakfast.

There are three places to be for the rest of the workweek. Here's how, where and when. And why? It's all Jackpine, all of the time!

Tonight, Wednesday July 5
@Argus Lounge
DJs Nick & Rose
9PM, free

Tomorrow, Thursday July 6
@Bottom of the Hill
The Herms, The Mayfire , Sputter Doll
9PM, $8.00

The Day After That, Friday July 7
@Great American Music Hall
It's the big event of the month!
Jesse DeNatale SOUL PARADE record release party
featuring
Jesse DeNatale
Paula Frazer
Tom Heyman
9PM, $10 advance, $12 door

Of course I caught a screening of The Devil Wears Prada immediately upon its release. Having not read the novel on which it's based meant that I didn't know what was going to happen.

That is, until the moment that Anne Hathaway showed up to a job interview at Runway magazine wearing a Gap cableknit sweater. You could smell a makeover coming on.

But not everything was obvious, and there are some good laughs. Paul Rudnick is apparently one of the uncredited script rewriters, and I'll bet you some Jimmy Choo boots that he wrote the funniest lines.

Meryl Streep was her usual fabulousness and so well styled, she made pale coral frost lipstick sing. And I want her office. And her townhome. Stanley Tucci was perfectly hilarious, and my favorite surprise performance was Emily Blunt. I also want her makeup.

Patricia Field's handiwork and talent was everywhere, with jaw-dropping garments in almost every scene. Couture is some of the greatest eye candy out there, and man, can she pick it.

Naturally, the film subliminally demanded that I hit Sephora afterwards. To my surprise, there were big posters for the film in the front windows, touting items that made no appearance at all in the movie, like dry shampoo. Come on.

So I rolled my eyelined eyes and went to Nordstroms like a normal person. If those marketing people could see me now, they'd vie for my new Chanel nailpolish in black satin. So what if I'm a demographic? It's fun!

I am pleased to report that nothing bad happened last night, at least not in my house. I made what ended up being a fluke 911 call because I was convinced that there was a prowler at my door.

Estro and I were upstairs, already in bed when the doorbell rang. For once, she slept through the bell. I credit our dog's new skill at ignoring the doorbell to the hours that I rack up watching House Hunters on HGTV, where a doorbell rings about every seven minutes.

So I went down to the front door, thinking that maybe Nick's keys went missing and he needed to be let in. I peeked out the window next to the door and in the dark, without my contact lenses, I saw only the back of a man who was walking back down the stairs.

I waited. The doorbell rang again and this time, he was saying my last name, all drawn out, "Peeeepppppeeeeer." Followed by ranting, raving, and a bunch of words that I could not understand.

I immediately decided that this was the same drunk, beligerant man who came to our door once before. That time, he rang the bell, staggered, and wanted to do work on the house for money. (After that, Nick called the landlord about this guy and we found out that once he was paid to help load up a truck, but nothing more.)

So I was sure it was this same guy again, obviously in need of money, and that he must have found out my name because we are not those mail-shredder type people. Although we do own a shredder, it was a gift and is still in its box.

Anyway, I decided that no way am I opening the door to this crazed lunatic who's desperate for cash. But he was not going away, so I dialed 911 and left my house through the back door.

I stood in the back yard, thinking what, I don't know, while the calmest 911 operator kept me on the phone and as reasonably calm as I could muster, with all that adrenaline from having this madman attempting a break-in while my dog was still in the house.

During my very short, probably two minute 911 call, the operator told me that the police had arrived. They got the guy and I should go to the front door and answer it. Ok. They got him. No way they showed up fast enough to catch him. Wow.

My doorbell was ringing quite a lot at this point as I walked towards it, and Estro was awake by now, doing her superloud "bark-bark-bark-bark" routine that she does so well.

I picked up the dog, threw on the lights and swung the front door open wide to at least 4 officers on my porch. Men, women, 2 police vehicles, all at the ready to protect and serve.

One officer said, "Ma'am can you restrain your dog?" I said yes, I mean, the dog is 15 pounds and under one arm. Then she asked, "Does a man named Robert live downstairs?" I immediately said, "Yes, yes, thank you" and motioned for Robert to come in. He was only locked out, and he can get to his apartment through our house. It's odd that I didn't recognize his voice, but in my state of panic, I just didn't.

It was just our neighbor, mistaking my first name for Pepper. Which is cute actually. He of course apologized profusely and we laughed the whole thing off. He petted Estro on the head and they bonded.

I'm so glad that all of this excitement happened because if we ever really, really need police to come to the house, it can be done faster than I could ever have imagined.

I asked some friends what I should to do repay these fine police officers for their fine work, and also the 911 operator on call. A fruit basket? A pie? Exotic meat products?

Tammy said to write them a letter because they love that. It goes in their file. Can do! I am still finding out every name, every dispatcher, and every officer who was in on this whole thing and I will fatten each of their files with a glowing report of how great they were to me last night.

911 is no joke.

My college job was what I called "slinging coffee" and here's proof. What this photo mostly proves is that I had really '80s hair. I'm the one on the front left in a curious pretzel with 2 other people.

We had so much fun I can hardly stand it. We'd stay there after hours on weekend nights, blaring Hunky Dory on repeat. For years, my entire social life stemmed from there. All the nicknames that we had for customers, all the free lattes, and on hot summer days, doing whippits and making out in the walk-in cooler.

Once I covered someone's opening shift at a some unspeakable hour, maybe 6 or 7AM. I showed up to work, but the customers beat me to it. There were a good dozen people waiting on the sidewalk, ready for the cafe to open.

First guy to the counter? "I'll have a double espresso. Decaf."

Parker talks to New York Magazine about her career, her neighbor and how people always think that she's "wacky."

It is nothing short of inane that the Senate was just one vote short from a Constitutional Amendment to torch anyone who burns an American flag.

Rather, the Senate was one vote short on approving a ban on flag-burning. How about actually helping Americans instead?

Say, ramping up emergency rooms to care for injuries that will surely result from illegal fireworks this weekend. Or, you know, pulling our troops out of Iraq sometime this year, or next, or the year after. Or the year after that.

NPR covered the story, have a listen here.

"After eleven years as a band, Sleater-Kinney have decided to go on indefinite hiatus. The upcoming summer shows will be our last. As of now, there are no plans for future tours or recordings.

We feel lucky to have had the support of many wonderful people over the years. We want to thank everyone who has worked with us, written kind words about us, performed with us, and inspired us.

But mostly we want to extend our gratitude to our amazing fans. You have been a part of our story from the beginning. We could not have made our music without your enthusiasm, passion, and loyalty. It is you who have made the entire journey worthwhile.

With love and thanks,

Sleater-Kinney

The dates below will be your last chance to see the band.
Avail yourself of the opportunity.

Sleater-Kinney
Jul 29 Mellwood Arts Center, Louisville, KY
Jul 31 Starlight Ballroom, Philadelphia, PA
Aug 01 930 Club, Washington, DC
Aug 02 Webster Hall, New York City, NY
Aug 04 Lollapalooza (Grant Park), Chicago, IL"

Every weekend is pride weekend in San Francisco, but there's only one in which a great big hill gets adorned with a 200-foot pink triangle.

The hill is called Twin Peaks, and a group called Friends of the Pink Triangle unfurls it every year for almost a decade now. Previous mayors have christened it with pink champagne. And couples christen it their own way.

Nick tells me we're on the front door of mog today. Well, Jackpine is. Why? I have no idea!

They put us in the Movers and Shakers category. We did move last October, and if we ever made martinis, that would require a shaker...