Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Blog 41...How to be a Rock Star without Playing an Instrument...

Blog 41...How to be a Rock Star without Playing an Instrument...

I have the privilege of knowing some Rock Stars, and consider some of them my friends, and they have the extreme privilege of knowing me, and being my friend and besides myself being a princess, I am clearly a Rock Star, and I don’t even play an instrument...damm, did I just drop the microphone.

(just a little side note...we are all Rock Stars, you just might be hiding you inner Jagger, but baby, it’s in there...now high kick, point and scream)

So, how did I reach this Rock Star Status?

Welllllllll...practice, practice, practice, sheer luck, internal fire, watching shit, a sense of humor and one hell of an ass. (hey if it worked for Kim Kardashian, why they hell can’t it work for me.)

So Lessons I have Learned along the way...

-It is Okay to Take...

Now first and foremost, if you are ever in a green room at the end of a show and there is left over booze, beer, mixers, fresh juice, some fruit, good chips, Popeye’s, whatever, you got hands, pockets, a plastic bag that you fill up with Sierra Nevada’s and it rips in the van on the way back to the hotel...you will get thirsty later, you might get hungry, there might be a party...that shit comes in handy, and leftovers are always awesomeness, especially when it is rum.

And, not only are you helping yourself out but others too, this is a key element in being a Rock Star...Cause whatever you score, you share.

Some fan gives you some pot, you smoke some, but can’t take it on the plane, or you got given too much, you are a Rock Star, you give it to your friends, or your road crew...those are some hard working mother fuckers, or to another band to help them out, or the guy that gave you the good whiskey, the fan that said you changed his life or a cute-broke-red-headed princess that could always use more pot...totally.

Always say thank you, and make sure you pass on your fortunes.

-Keep your Private Side, Private.

No one wants to know what happens on the bus...unless it involves drugs, sex and rock and roll. Rock Stars aren’t rock stars cause they take a shit, contemplate their navel and cut their toenails. No No No...I don’t even go out if I am not in a good mood, cause if I am not 100% Sunny, I don’t want to put a lesser version of me out there.

And we all have bad days, and bad shows, but focusing on that side of it will not bring you the positive attention that a true Rock Star deserves.

-Say “Fuck It” and keep on Rocking you out.

Fergie pissed herself on stage and didn’t give a flying fuck, she kept on singing, than got booked for the Super Bowl where she sang that song from the “Dirty Dancing” soundtrack. Now as completely gross as I found the entire previous sentence, you got to give credit where credit is due. Cause not giving a shit that you pissed yourself in front of a butt load of people and just shrugging it off and continuing to rock yourself out takes some MASSIVE ROCK STAR BALLS right there.

I said it along time ago in Blog 2...”but when you learn not to give a flying fuck what other people think about you, you begin to love and accept yourself in ways that you never thought imaginable”

-Embrace you

I think this is what separates real Rock Stars from the wanna be.

A True Rock Star is all them all the time, they are okay with being in the box when they want to be and outside the box when they feel like it. It is all in what they are feeling. What makes them happy.

I am fucking awesomeness in a person, and not only that, I try my fucking hardest to be a good fucking person. You don’t like me, whatever, I respect your opinion, as you should respect mine...whatever makes you fucking happy, and whatever makes me happy...this is one of the key elements to Rock Star Status...being you, and letting others be who they want to be.

We all have our own lessons to learn in this life

-We Inspire Each Other

Even a Rock Star is inspired, WE ALL INSPIRE EACH OTHER. What Rock Star wouldn’t flip if they got to meet Stevie Wonder, the writer of their favorite song or the doctor that saved their momma’s life...

What you might consider a Rock Star, I don’t...just cause I pay to go see someone play music, does not make them a rock star, it makes them a musician. And musicians pay people to entertain them too, or to do shit for them...and I would bet my left breast they know people that don’t play and instrument that they consider Rock Stars.

An example of this in a good and bad way is the “Girls Gone Wild” dude.

Homie does not play an instrument but made a shit ton of money and got to hang out with cute, naked chicks and watch them make out...oh, and he owns and island, I’m giving him Rock Star Status, how he figured out that one, God only knows.

Now of course he had to be a dumb ass about shit and not do it proper and now he is in jail...which is how he dropped in the Rock Star Standing...(but when he gets out he will still have the island)

Which leads me to my last lesson, and one I have said many times...

- Try to Do it Right...and Learn along the Way

You show me a musician/band that has a following that follows them around the world, and I’ll show you someone who does that shit right (or is trying to) they put their hearts and souls into it.

And as you build your following you learn lessons along the way, and you learn from other's mistakes (don’t film under-aged girls doing naughty things to each other) And it is in that acceptance that we are all not perfect but we try, and in trying, sometimes we produce sound, laughter, things, beauty that move a people...and that my friend, makes you a FUCKING ROCK STAR...seeing that possiblity not only in yourself, but in others.

Who are you going to Move today, tomorrow?

Who are you going to Inspire?

How are you going to Encourage yourself to Shine?

Cause being a Rock Star, is bringing out the Rock Star in all of us, starting with you.

Now...Shine on...times 11.


LEG GUITAR (this dance was first done by a row of three hot ladies in matching long dresses at a Widespread Panic Show in Eugene, Oregon, many years ago)

Now this dance is an act of balance, and if you got some core muscle kicking, you should be in okay. Another important pre-game part to this dance is stretching out your hamstring, cause if you throw your leg up, well, let’s just say it is good to stretch. Now choke up on your ankle with your hand, make sure you have a good grip, bending your upper torso down a little to help you keep balance, use your free hand to start rocking that leg guitar out...see I knew you had that Rock Star in you.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Blog 40...Whoops, I did it Again, I Left the Tenderloin...and Survived.

Blog 40.....Whoops, I did it Again, I Left the Tenderloin...and Survived.

Whoops, I did it again, my dumb (but cute & sparkly) ass left the Tenderloin, but don’t worry peeps, I remembered my corkscrew. Surprisingly, I did not have to use it.

And I actually have been having quite a nice time here (man shit is way cooler when it is not snowing and you aren’t stuck in a house by yourself...just saying.)

And this small town is quite nice, reminds me of a place I lived for some time. I totally and completely understand the appeal. But I have said it once, and I’ll say it again, a small town, is a small town, and it ain’t got nothing on my city.

Now, if this small town changed a couple of key elements, I might consider moving...maybe, not really, but let us just put this figuratively...totally.

-California, I love you, I can smoke pot where ever the fuck I want, I can walk down the street, go to a show, walk outside a bar (there is one you can smoke pot in after 2am when they pretend to close...gotta love that.) I took an hour plus walk the other day here, could not smoke nothing, in fact, the house I am staying at, I can’t even go on the back porch an smoke, I thought I was suppose to be enjoying nature, this shit is wrong! Other states, you all really need to catch up on this not giving a shit about pot smoking. Hey it’s still illegal in California, we just don’t give a shit.

-Mosquitoes... Okay so I totally get that I taste good, but really. Flying malaria festers are everywhere round here, and they like me...times 11. And that shit itches like a mother fucker, and then I feel like I got bugs crawling up me all night cause I itch and once I realize a bug has been on me, I can’t stop thinking about it, and thinking about it, and wondering if that feeling is them crawling on me or me just being paranoid cause I don't want to get bit again....oh, oh, oh...it is still itching.

-I had mentioned the last time I left, that you got to drive in a small town, and driving, is not for this princess. I tried to walk more this trip, and let me tell you, it would have been a lot easier if you all had corner stores so I could get some cold water. I did not see one, till the very end of my walk, and my walk was hot as fuck, I would have loved to slip into some air conditioning and enjoy a tasty mojito, but alas, again, no bars on the walk, and no mojitos for this princess...

But my thirst did get quenched, and I eventually got a mojito too. And to be honest, I needed to get out of the fucking city for a moment. Cause as wonderful and fulfilling as the city is for me, and I do Love the City sooooo, like any relationship, it has a dark side. In a six month time period, I have watched a lady get hit and killed by a bus 6 feet in front of me, a teenage girl fall to her death 10 feet from me, saw 3 people that had been shot, saw a guy get stabbed, witnessed 2 people get hit upside the head with a bottle and a old homeless man get straight kicked in the head by a crackhead for no apparent reason. When the guy slouched over from being kicked, the crackhead just laughed.

Yes, getting away has been good for me, and I needed a rest, a change of pace, a new perspective.

And I could come back here, and maybe one day my perspective would take me to moving here, but not now, not soon...I still have chapters to finish in my city, maybe even more books.

Maybe the answer is I need to explore more, realize that there is so much more out there. How can I become a queen if I don’t experience and see all the kingdoms?

Sometimes you forget how small you are, and a reminder is always nice.

***please note***
The City could improve if more restaurants carried Sweet Tea in house (don’t be scarred peeps, sugar is okay...really.) AND BOYS HERE OPEN DOORS…not all, but a good 80%...and that shit is awesomeness...times 11, totally. But when is being proper not awesomeness...right?
Can we all just open doors for each other, come on, it really is okay to be nice to each other, to smile and say hi (but if you have been in the city for a while, the first few “hi” walk byes freak you the fuck out, but you acquire to it with ease.)***

So maybe the small town is for you, I really do get it and I even like the cricket sound track.

But San Francisco is where I was born and raised; it is where my family is. And I have not recovered from the ending of my last book, and even though I see so much craziness, I feel so safe in my home, with my family...the city is my security blanket.

And for me, the Tenderloin is a constant reminder that no matter how hard it is, how down I feel, I am one lucky ass bitch, and should feel blessed, cause shit could be a whole lot worse.

And when I see death and despair on such a daily basis...I never forget to live everyday like it was my last, to truly truly LIVE.

And I am only a princess, not yet a queen...and I still need those constant reminders...the realities of this journey.

But to play devil’s advocate with myself (for this is always good to do)

It does not matter where you are, but what you make of it.

I simply choose to “make it” in San Francisco.


(this dance move is similar to the “My Ankle Hurts” dance)

So, bring your foot to your opposite knee, either grab with both hands or with the opposite hand as the foot (I tried the same side thing, way harder, and if you throw you being loaded into the mix, bigger problems) You got a good grip on in, now say “Owwwwwwwww” and start to hop, hop, hop...that shit hurt, I think we have to hop our way over to a drink.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Blog 39........TO LOOK UP.........

Blog 39…………To Look Up……………

In the past few days, I found myself repeating a story many times, let me do it once more…………

The day I sold my restaurant a few years back, I remember a moment of clarity.

I had worked for years without a day off, lost a marriage, taken on stress beyond my years, became blinded from my path…………I was unhappy/over worked and knew it.

Due to the downfall of the economy and the fact that working with a man you had broken up with SUCKS ASS, we had pretty much given away the restaurant and lost a substantial amount of money....it was not the best way that it could have ended, it was not the worst.

I drove back home from signing the papers, part of me was in shock, had I really just handed over my life to a stranger for nothing? A thing that I had invested my life into, my blood, sweat and tears………gone………as quickly as I could sign my name.

The other part of me was in shock cause now, not only did I have a day off, but I had a shit ton of days off and nothing to really do……………

I stopped at a red light……….

and, I looked up.

At the moment I was hit with a blast of clarity.

I had not looked up in years.

I had been so focused on the restaurant, on the work and the stress, that I had neglected the sky. I had ignored it all, and forgotten the simply pleasure that looking around can give you.

I had forgotten to take it all “in.”

And as I looked up and people started to honk behind me, I pulled over, leaned my seat back and starred out my sunroof. I don’t remember how long I gazed up, but I knew each breath I took filled my body with clarity.

The notion hit that life is not all about work and stress........it is about enjoyment and living. And for years of my life, I had spent too much time working and not enough time living.

The next few days energized me with new life. I went to a café and had coffee and just people watched, I took psychedelics and went with my boom box and sat by the river, watching it go by, listening to LEGION OF MARY, I saw the notes of music twist with the current of the water and roll away.

And I looked up……………so much so, my neck fucking hurt.

It is something I do every morning now, I even have my bed situated so I can see the sky when I awake and go to bed. I never close my blinds, I always want to be able to see the sky.

When I walk my miles around the city, I’ll give the sidewalk a “shit check” and then gaze up, getting lost in the cool architecture and the whispering clouds. At night the stars fill the dome above with glittering lights that I zone out in.

I have learned the art of “people watching” and of simply "watching."

When I tell people how old I am they seemed surprised, they tell me I look younger, funny thing, the day I sold my restaurant people began telling me I looked 10 years younger.

I have learned to simply take it all in.

And in taking it all in I have mellowed, became less stressed (remember, I’m just to blessed) When you are able see the big picture, the problems, the stress, all that seems so minute compared to the whole.

Sometimes we become so focused that we ignore all the components to life, but it is not just one thing that makes us happy, that stresses us out, that makes or breaks us……………

The day I looked up, my eyes became open, and not only was I able to look up, but also around.

Looking straight ahead leads to tunnel vision, and leads to stress which makes you look WAY older.

And tunnel vision makes everything in front of you look so big and massive, when you spin around, the problems blend with the good and you realize how balanced life really is.

So if you are feeling stressed, or lost, or just in need of a new perspective………………LOOK UP.

(just be sure if you are walking you scope the street for shit, cause some of us are not the best at the “Tenderloin Shit Shuffle”………just saying.)



All right, start loading up on the truck……ohhhhhhhh, you get to be the back driver guy, remember you got to take the turns big and you really swing being back there……whoaaaaaaaaaaa………we are here, everyone hop off the truck. It is a big fire, put the latter up. Climb the latter one step at a time. Break the window……OH NO, a cat is trying to escape, but it is scared, there is only one thing to do, toss the cat out the window (this is not animal cruelty, you are trying to save the cat and they are suppose to land on their feet, so here is hoping) Now it is hose time. Start to pull the hose to where you need to go, man this thing is heavy, now you need to brace yourself....squatting will help with the force of the water and improve your ass (a twofer)………spray the water back and forth, yikes, duck, got to be careful of those flying cats………totally.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Blog 38.....I'm too Blessed to be Stressed

Blog 38...I’m too Blessed to be Stressed...

Shit has been a little crazy for me lately. And I have been stressed. Stress does not suit me well, in fact, it makes me quite sick.

I have been stressed about shit I don’t need to be stressed about, and about a feeling I have, this has been the worst, because it is an unknown feeling. I have this premonition...that something big is going to happen, that a shift is coming in my life, and I have no idea what direction it will go...I feel it, brewing on the horizon……and it is freaking me the fuck out.

But why?

It could be a good change, it could be what I need, if it is bad, it is happening for a reason, and good should happen from it………I HAVE GOT TO STOP FREAKIN OUT ABOUT SHIT THAT HASN’T HAPPENED YET...times 10……totally.

I was hanging out with a friend the other day and he turned to me and said,
“After all, I’m too blessed to be stressed”

“Amen” came to mind……let’s discuss.

I close my eyes to think about that phrase and what it really means………

Break Down Time……

-I’m alive, I’m kicking, and I’m not going down with out a fucking fight……high five me. Bring on the fight, it only makes me stronger.

-I live in America……hey, you can even say it the red-neck way, I don’t give a shit...and while it would be awesome to live in Canada or France, I am still blessed as hell to live here, where I can say what I want, dress how I want, it’s cool that I’m a chick (way more than cool) and so forth, fuck it...go USA……totally...

-I live in California, where people are cool with pot. I can smoke walking down the street, in venues, pretty much where the fuck ever, and if they don’t want me smoking they will ask me to stop, not freaking arrest me. Here people grow pot as a career choice and it truly is a way of life. I was at a Panic show at The Fox and some security lady tried to give me shit for smoking pot……I turned to her and said, “Darlin...three things, This is The Fox, This is California, and This is Widespread Panic...don’t waste your time...thank you, and have a great night.” And continued smoking my pipe.

Now that is some blessing bitches.

-I call San Francisco my home……………awesomeness in a city. I have more music than I know what to do with and the people here are loving and excepting (for the most part)……a perfect example of this is at the restaurant that I work at (one of my many jobs.) My head chef is a total loon, my executive chef is a man, who was born a woman who rocks a rainbow mohawk and is awesomeness, the sous chef is a total stand up guy who is covered in head to toe tattoos, I wear glitter and am a total ding dong who has dance parties with coworkers during my shift...like the gay server, that also wears glitter and has a mohawk. We also had another chick with a mohawk but now she is just rocking the shaved head, our hostess is from South Africa and has the sexy voice...and so forth and so forth…………MELTING POT, you bet bitches, and we all respect each other…………for the most part, as long as we are doing our job, because that is the shit that really matters.

-I’m me……and me is AWESOMENESS.
I was having ding dong-stressy thoughts about my man love….(because that is what girls do) and my sous chef turned to me and said, “come on Sunny, you know you have a light inside of you.”….and he doesn’t even read my writing, he just knows. And I know, so why do I even stress, I’m a good person, I’m freakin awesomeness, anyone who doesn’t see that is more of a ding dong than I am……and that is a lot of ding dong. But people do see it, and I am loved, and I AM JUST STRESSING OVER NOTHING……

Cause let me tell you,

I am too blessed to be stressed.

See sometimes you got to hit yourself upside the head.

Sometimes I forget to breathe and focus on what is simply in front of me.

The stressing, the fretting, the pouting, all that shit is not good for me……(and I think causes more wrinkles)

So whatever shift I feel brewing on the horizon, I am ready, willing and waiting…………………and totally enjoying the colors.


***this is a two part dance move, the second part will be in the next blog***


Alright, you are sleeping, an alarm sounds off and you, only for an instant, put your hands to your ears, (cause you know that shit is loud as fuck.) now jump up, quick stretch, time is of the essence. Run to the poll, and spin as you slide down...now time to get the hot fireman outfit on……whoop whoop……(that was a mental note, not a dance move)………anyhoo, step into the boots and the outfit, zip it up………totally, don’t forget the hat…………and dash for the truck, dooooohhhhh, got to open the door before you jump in, but hey, you did just wake up…………to be continued

P.S………A special thanks to my older sister who created this dance move, is awesomeness & her and my brother-in-law pay for my internet, which just…………leaves me speechless on a constant basis……another blessing…………

P.P.S………I miss Jerry………sixteen years later, I still remember the day……………but aren’t we blessed that we had him at all………….

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Blog 37...Crack Head Pick Up Lines...(Part One)

Blog 37...Crack Head Pick Up Lines...(Part One)

So Crack Heads...I’m just going to put it all out there...92.7% of you, suck at the ole pick up lines. Like Seriously...times 11.

Now granted, there are exceptions to every rule, and I must say, there have been times where I have been floored, in awe, a big smile has spread over my face or simply had my heart melt at the most beautiful things that a stranger has said to me.

Yet most of the time, my mouth drops open, I fall over into a giggling/snorting fiasco, mentally stab them in the eye with my corkscrew, or get the…”what the fuck just crapped out of your mouth” look on my face (which mind you is not my favorite look.)

Now Granted, I do not help this situation out that much.

I walk through the Tenderloin at crazy hours...I get off of work in between 12am and 2am and I walk home, and yes I am freakin nuts, so I usually walk through the heart of the tenderloin (it has the best incline for my butt as I walk) I am in my princess dress, I am sparkly, have bright red hair, and then there is the matter of my ass...totally.

I do not fair much better in the day time and since I walk to work every day, and once again, usually tenderloin cut it to Market street...(let’s be honest here peeps, I don’t have a TV and I need some entertainment, and the “Tenderloin” channel is interesting as fuck, and distracts me enough that I can zone out before I go to work)

Now I also butt walk through a part of the Tenderloin, but head to TenderNob for most of my walk. Yet for the couple blocks the heckling is fierce and I’m just in a baseball hat and my workout gear, so I really don’t feel like I deserve the lude verbal assaults I get...but with an ass like mine, it is hard.

Pick Up Lines That Crack me the Fuck Up...

-“Do you Want to come in this doorway sexy.”

-“I would trade all my oxy for you”

-“I want to eat you” (cannibal)

-“I want to suck your toes”
(side note: this one kind of grossed me out more than it made me crack up, I wear flip flops, thick ones, but I am tenderloin tromping...grossness times 11)

-“I want to motorboat your ass” (this one made me giggle)

-“Its time to flip the hourglass over”

-or there is the guy that just always blocks my path and starts to make these weird noises like “ommmmm” “ufffffommu” “ahuppahaupa”

Now a majority of Tenderloin pick up lines are just lame. And any decent lady that has walked through the Tenderloin, you know you average about 5 a block.

Crack heads, if you all want to out shine the competition you might have to come up with something better than “hot damm, girl, you are looking fine as fuck”...Honey, I know this, I looked in the mirror before I headed out the door. And don’t start yelling at me when I don’t turn or respond to you. I don’t respond usually to catcalls. I don’t respond to honks. And I totally don’t respond to “Hey Red, Hey Red, Hey Red, I’m talking to you Red, hey Red with the ass, hey I’m talking to you, hey”...this might be the person I am mentally stabbing with my corkscrew...maybe.

I only respond when they have merit.

There is a crack head that I have never introduced myself to, yet every time I approach his corner he starts to belt out, “I got sunshine, on a cloudy day...” and sings me the song with one hand on his heart as I pass. He gets a smile and the first time, my heart melted a little.

The man that said when I was in my sparkly dress, “Mama, I just have to tell you, You look funky- beautiful-groovy” totally got a thank you.

There are the handful of Crack Heads that have introduced themselves to me. I am always polite and introduce myself back, it is only proper. They then tell me I look nice, I say, “thank you darlin” and whenever I see them they say...
“Looking good today Sunny.” And I smile and tell them to have a wonderful day.

If it is proper, I am always going to respect it, if its not, I am going to stay in my awesome bubble that I rock when I walk in the Tenderloin...I’m just in the bubble watching the TV station, cracking up and at the same time, wishing I could help these people, wondering what makes them tick.

Then I cross Market St. and hit the Mission Channel, and that is a whole other blog...totally.


(for any of you who travel a lot, this one might hit home)


All right, first, you have got to wait in line, man this is taking a while, you might have to rest you head on your friend’s shoulder (I don’t recommend resting your head on a stranger’s shoulder they might get mad.) You are at the front of the line now, take off your shoes, your jacket, your hat, your belt, crap...hold those pants up peeps. How many of these trays do you need, damm, alright all your stuff is on the convayer belt now...time for the beeping thingy, nope, never clear, something has gone off, now due to new regulations comes the fun part. Have your friend/or loved one, come up and do the feeling up/pat up and in part of the dance. I usually do a little shake after this part, finally, we are through, now where the hell are my shoes, and for the love of all that is holy, put your belt on.