Regular faves like Horsefeathers’ biweekly Drag Queen Bingo never failed to entertain, with a barrage of inappropriate language alongside a healthy dose of gambling, and the other corners of Sarasota’s own little Bermuda triangle also kept me busy (including one memorable ladies’ night at the now-defunct Esca). In May I familiarized myself with all Southside Village has to offer, making some new friends and crawling into the office the next day with one helluva hangover. I also hit the beaches for margaritas at the little-known Lido Key Tiki Bar and a Sunday pool party at The Colony organized by Klauber dynasty offspring.

We were lucky to have some fabulous special events in town too, starting as always with the Sarasota Film Fest, a week of crowded rooms, Szambelan and B-list celebs. The first outing of the funkdified Vinyl Music Fest was a smash success — with packed clubs all over the city and chance encounters with superstar DJs the norm. My own star-turn came when I happened upon blond bombshell DJ Diamond in the ladies’ room and she invited me to spend the rest of the evening chillin’ with her up in VIP. Another great addition to the scene was the Ringling International Arts Festival, where I caught Mikhail Baryshnikov checking out my rack before we all filed into the theater to enjoy the offbeat cabaret performance of musical maven Meow Meow.

One thing the RIAF may have lacked was visual art, and this year I searched statewide for interesting artists. Here at home, the first ever Arts United paired live artists and live musicians downstairs at Esca, making for a thoroughly stimulating evening. I also journeyed to St. Pete more than once for the swinging shindigs at ArtPool, a gallery/boutique where owner Marina Williams incorporates fashion shows, live music and ever-rotating artworks into a party as vivid as one of Williams’ own wacky ensembles. But the mack-daddy of art events this year had to be Art Basel Miami Beach, the largest art fair in the United States, and my weekend in Miami left me wide-eyed and exhausted, certainly the marks of time well spent.

The only celebrity I spotted at Basel was my favorite Batman (Val Kilmer — try not to laugh), but Super Bowl XLIII in Tampa brought me up close and personal with Lindsay Lohan, Evander Holyfield and John Legend, among others. My top celebrity meeting of ‘09 was when the Hasidic reggae star Matisyahu played Jannus Landing in June. Matis invited me via Twitter to a sit in on a short live set at WMNF Tampa, and I was really impressed with how talented and genuine the singer was in person, taking the time to stop and chat, pose for a picture, and sign a copy of his new single for me.

I did not get to meet Britney Spears, tragically, but the pop starlet’s show in March at the St. Pete Times Forum was actually my favorite review to write, exploring the dichotomy between a real girl on stage singing and dancing, and the mythic character “Britney Spears” has morphed into. We all have our masks, though, don’t we? And speaking of masks, let’s talk about mine. In last week’s issue, I made CL contributor MC Coolidge’s “Naughty & Nice” list, earning a gold star for dishing marginally useful/entertaining information, but also a demerit for not being quite cruel enough to warrant my anonymity.

Point taken, Ms. Coolidge, and thus I offer you now, Sarasota, The Scenestress’ New Year’s resolution for 2010: to be consistently more ruthless. Over the past year I’ve learned a lot about this new job of mine, and about Sarasota as a whole. In my work I’ve always attempted to stay positive and focus on the good in this city, instead of offering the serial disparagement many critics seem to rely upon. But let’s be honest: Everybody likes a hint of snark now and then. And so while 2009 has been a lot of fun, in 2010 I promise to always bring you the story behind the story, whether it’s pretty or not. And surely, Sarasota, you won’t let me disappoint.

I thank you, dear readers, for a wonderful year, and for your continued support and devotion. I owe you the same. Cheers and Happy New Year!

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After strolling just 20 feet into the Miami Beach Convention Center, the Basel epicenter, I am dazzled by the swirl of it all. The giant white walls stamped with masses of color transport me to a strange world, one inhabited exclusively by elegant people carrying designer handbags, with the soft hum of their many different languages hanging in the air.

I begin by wandering aimlessly, gaining my bearings and trying not to stumble over pieces of avant-garde sculpture jutting into the path. The Basel big-wigs selected over 250 international galleries to participate, and major players — Deitch, Gagosian — are set up just inside the entryway. The blue-chip galleries’ artworks are not labeled with the artists’ names — I suppose because an original Koons doesn’t need a label, and if you have to ask, well then you’re not who the people at Gagosian want to talk to anyway. Among all the super-big-name artists, though, I find a few new favorites, and their work tends to be neon-colored or to make use of text. (Is it obvious I’m a writer and a child of the ’80s?) If you are so inclined, check out the strong colors and shapes of brothers Gert and Uwe Tobias and the semi-representational/semi-creepy work of Albert Oehlen.

After I pass Val Kilmer in the hallway, sporting a cowboy hat and looking much slimmer than he has of late, it’s time to GTFO and give my feet and eyeballs a rest. I head around the corner to Lincoln Road, an outdoor mall with plenty of bars where I can enjoy a beverage while watching the crowds roll by. Things you don’t see in Sarasota: good-looking same-sex couples holding hands, cops on Segways and Gucci man-bags (except when Sarasota Ballet director Iain Webb rocks one, of course). I end my Friday at the divey Club Deuce with a few PBRs while a Keith Richards look-alike sitting across from me alternately poses for photos and makes out with one of the three girls crowded around him.

Saturday is rainy and chilly, but I manage to make it over to the SCOPE Miami Art Fair in the hip Wynwood area by late afternoon. Scope is one of the top satellite shows in town and and is a bit edgier and more affordable than the main fair — if thousands of dollars for a piece still counts as affordable. I am again thrilled by lots of bright colors, like in the work of Jen Stark, Sara Carter and Shawne Major, and am also pleased by the number of female artists represented. Aside from the main rooms, SCOPE houses a special Art Asia section, with lots of shiny sculptures and meticulously arranged objets d’art as well as a separate Art Market with edgy goods for sale from mostly local artisans.

As SCOPE shuts down I dawdle down the dim streets to see more of the Wynwood district’s regular artsy inhabitants, popping into dozens of small galleries ranging from fun and funky to clean and stark. At the Fountain Art Fair, another pop-up satellite show, the work gets even wilder, predominantly centered around sex, capitalism and spray paint. One artist has built himself a fort in the midst of his booth and stands atop it in a dirty bunny suit listening to mid-’90s New York rap. The scene is super-hipstery, with fake bags of cocaine lying on the bar top and skinny boys in tight pants chatting up even skinnier girls in ugly glasses. I’m once again hitting an art-saturation point and duck into Miami mainstay The Vagabond to chill out and wild out as the night rolls on. Before I know it, the clock strikes 5, which may or may not mean I called it a night and went home. . .

My weekend in Miami has been everything I’ve hoped: art up to my eyeballs, lots of crazy characters, and a few great clubs with kick-ass music. You can count on my return to Art Basel 2010, and hopefully earlier in the week next year for the official vernissage and even more celebrity sightings.

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After a late Saturday night ending in an impromptu pool party at a residence on Longboat Key, the  jaunt to the Colony provided everything I needed to enjoy my Sunday. I said “hello” to the brunette bikini-clad Miss Klauber, and went straight to the grill for a burger and next the bar for a bloody. My posse and I grabbed a seat on the sand and enjoyed some serious sustenance and getting acquainted with our surroundings.

The event may have been under-attended, but the sun and sea were shining and the temperature near perfect. The beach noise of the water and the wind mostly drowned out the change-in-the-dryer-like tunes and I was happy like a clam. I did fight quite a battle with the seagulls, one particularly daring bird making off with most of a friend’s lunch, but kind grill-master Jamil was happy to replace the stolen dog.

By late afternoon a number of movers and shakers arrived to support the Colony’s golden girl including daddy Michael Klauber and local charity doyenne Graci McGillicuddy, looking bright with hot-pink flower appliqués on her jacket and jeans. Kenroy Simmons, local fitness trainer and 2009 CL Lust Lister, also grabbed a seat by the pool and noshed on some chicken wings. The gray-hairs and hot bodies gathered poolside right next to our DJ, ostensibly enjoying the thumpin’ grooves.

My overall verdict? Club Colony got me out of the house and onto the sand, which, despite the fact that I live in sunny Sarasota, I do not do as often as I would like. Bring your friends, your bathing suit and a sweater, and relax pool- or ocean-side while you spot some of Sarasota’s big fish enjoying white wine and techno music. Miss Molly tells me the Colony may host one more Sunday pool party before “winter” is upon us, but hopes to make the event a weekly activity come spring. (Stay tuned to CL for the details as they are available.) Chilling beach-side with a burger and a bloody Mary? It just makes sense.