Volunteer for the film festival and meet new people -legions of ladies volunteer -and floods of people attend the internationally-acclaimed event. It’s a “do not miss.” Plan your time wisely as the Mill Valley Film Festival dates conflict with Litquake.

Thirty minutes later I’m at the final table. Former players, camera crews and viewers surround the table as my heart races. After making a stupid call with a King, Ten, I’m nearly out of the game. On the next hand I’m dealt a Three, Five. One player goes all in and another guy calls. With just a few chips left, I have no choice but to go all in. We turn over the cards. The two players reveal they both have Ace, King. I nearly duck with shame when I show my measly Three, Five. Then the flop. Before I can even look at the cards, the crowd goes nuts and everyone stand-up to cheer! I just got a straight on the flop. I’m still in the game. I hold my own a little longer and end up placing fifth in the competition.

Two of the best changes they made in the redecorating process was adding a side door and moving the stage in front of the main door when bands play–hence the added side door. The stage used to be on the side wall, entering and exiting the bar required walking in front of the band. If the band was less than appealing, or your alcohol tolerance was met for the evening and it was time to go, it always felt awkward to walk out in front of the band.

So what defines a true t-shirt country? According to the Times, it should be old. It should have dirty restrooms with graffiti scrawled all over the walls, and an older lady with lots of makeup, tending bar.

In a world of P.F. Changs, Starbucks and general corporate blandness, Jeannie Trick’s restaurant creation is a welcome refuge. Though it has changed owners, H.O.T. is still a great place for a first or 50th date. Great food, good service, wandering friendly cats and homey decor and expansive vines give it a kitschy country charm.

So you know, my life is a dramatic play of roommate drama involving an out of the country landlord, his cronies, and my insane, melodramtic lead is my roommate. Not to bore you with all the incessant details, know that I am no longer living in my house: I’m shacking up with my dear friend Jazz, so that I may be able to write once again! She is a goddess for letting me stay in her lovely home and she even gave me sheets.

Word got out quick that Tao is the place to be and once again I’m without a wristband. I’m flying solo tonight so I text some of my friends at E! Entertainment inside, hoping they can use their VIP status to get me in, but I’m out of luck. Just as I’m about to give up (sober in 11 degree weather sucks), a pink-haired Perez Hilton, the infamous celebrity blogger, walks through the velvet ropes and out the exit near me. In case you have any kind of inquiries regarding wherever in addition to how to use Landtees, you are able to e-mail us with the web page. With nothing to lose I yell, “Perez! Can I have your wristband?” To my surprise, he comes over. “It won’t come off I’ll have to rip it,” he says yanking at the red plastic band. I tie the band around my wrist and run inside.

My trip began Friday night, the second night of Sundance and one of the busiest nights on the town. Every dive-bar and mediocre club on Main Street had been transformed into the glitz and glamorous clubs of New York and Los Angeles and had been taken over by uptight LA bouncers and cut-throat publicists. One thing was clear: Sundance wasn’t about the films. It was about the parties. As Nelly would say on stage a few days later, “Sundance is winter’s Spring Break!” For this week, the signs read Tao, Marquee and Motorola Lounge. Instead of beer-bellied regulars, the bars were filled with Hollywood’s hottest crop of young actors including Sienna Miller, Josh Hartnett, Justin Timberlake and Jared Leto.