It’s Monday morning — okay it’s 1 p.m. — and I’m staring bleary-eyed at a computer screen, trying to frame and recall the weekend that was. I definitely remember asking you all in my column last week to vote online and decide what event I would attend. So many things were going on it was simply impossible for me to decide. On Friday when the voting closed, I was looking at a three-way tie: Big Blu House, S/ART/Q and The Punk Party all received an approximately equal number of votes (and Saturday’s Chillounge trailed close behind).

What’s a Scenestress to do but saddle up and hit them all; starting with the CL sponsored S/ART/Q opening at G.WIZ. The group transformed the top floor of the science museum into high-end art show representing 14 local contemporary artists and their “process.” Giving the visitor a look inside the artist’s world, the guys (and girl) display everything from sketches and materials samples to actual easels and living room furniture . The reception has great turnout and I particularly enjoy fingering the mountain of foam sheets artist Nathan Skiles constructs his sculptures from (photo at right by Daniel Perales — Process is open at G.WIZ through April 25 if you didn’t make it this weekend).

Flipping the art script and jaunting across town, I’m excited to see hip-hop group Big Blu House in Gulf Gate. Pastimes Pub is always a great venue for a live show and I have a feeling the Haus will live up to the hype. Their smooth and sincere jams make the masses move and J-Blu on the mic spits with precision and power. I’m also happy to see my girl Carrie, who used to bartend at Cabana, now slinging at Pastimes, and because I always drink PBR in Gulf Gate, order a cold one from the hot mama while I enjoy the show.

Break for a few hours of rest, work, and then more parties: On Saturday, as I’m heading over to The Punk Party, I figure I might as well pop into Chillounge — along with the rest of Sarasota. I’m arriving somewhat late, around 9 p.m., and Palm Ave. is swarming with people laughing and drinking on either side of the velvet VIP ropes. I quickly slip past them to get a better view of the crowd and see the Brazilian samba parade snake by in a blur of banging drums, sparkly sequins, and shiny asses. The fancy cabanas and outdoor couches are all full of older folks puffing cigars and I’m quickly bored by the scene (Chillounge night will roll into Orlando this Saturday if you missed it). How ’bout some punk rock!

Like I said, Palm Ave. was crowded, which may explain why the Punk Party is not. A few dozen people in faux-punk attire mill about the parking lot of Rosemary District tech company/party space the HuB until the punk fashion show starts up. Event organizer Patricia Dore trots down the runway first and her day job as a personal trainer is more than evident — girl’s got a bangin’ bod. More girls follow in Rockabilly-chic partyware designed by local label Punk Rock Betty and we all hoot and holler, especially when to-be-betrothed model couple Arnas Gineitas and Holly Katie Kirby suck some face during their finale walk.

Then there’s a late-night after hours around the corner in a warehouse on 10th and Orange with DJs Ansidis and Sinna-G putting on an awesome audio-visual show. At approximately 3:06 a.m., I jump up and down to the Lil’ Jon/Pitbull collabo “Krazy“ with some of my favorite friends and am happy to conclude that it’s been a great, albeit busy weekend. What’s everybody doin’ this week?

Seriously, click below to comment about your weekend hotspot. I hope to see you there!

And don’t forget to facebook me. xo!

-The Scenestress

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!

As always, find The Scenestress on Facebook and Twitter for daily updates on hot Suncoast happs.

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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If I have one concept to impart in my weekly time with each of you it is this: The scale and scope of happening hotness in this town continues to impress me, and we have those of you who are getting out there and making it happen to thank for that. Last week in particular, those awesome folks were numerous and varied. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Monthly dance party Soap has become something of a guilty pleasure for me. Guilty because Wednesday morning at the office after a night downing PBRs and whomping it up with Skiffle & Co. is generally a particularly tough concept. On this particular Tuesday, however, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, I secured a glorious Wednesday off. “It’s party time,” my pink hoop earrings seemed to be saying, so I plugged them in and headed to the Cabana for an extra-special Soap with musical guest Gil Mantera’s Party Dream, all the way from Ohio.

I was not familiar with GMPD before the night began but I must say their show will not soon be forgotten. I arrived as I Kill Pxls was finishing up his future-crooner set and made the rounds in the familiar dark smokiness of the Cabana. Bartendress Carrie, with a flower in her hair, had a drink ready for me before I could get to the bar top, as usual, and I greeted her and BF Jake Dubber aka Shock to the System, as he rocked out with his signature lightning-bolt-arm. Local faves This Is an Adventure took the stage before the Party Dream began and cemented their standing as a crowd-worthy act once more with their live rendition of “Fantasy.”

I knew I was in for a treat when three guys in black and red Adidas tracksuits arrived and carried a total of nine beers on stage with them. I was parked directly in front of Gil himself and his black studded gloves drew attention to his finger work on the keyboard while Ultimate Donny on guitar kicked it out center-stage. The dance floor filled immediately and I worked it out with the best of them until the boys couldn’t possibly throw out another ’80s dance move and bid goodnight with a finale of their synthy hit “Elmo’s Wish.”

Being the intrepid reporter I am, I followed the band “backstage” into one of the Cabana’s actual motel rooms to ask them some stupid questions like, “If you were an animal, which would you be?” Scruffy-faced Ultimate Donny’s answer: “I wouldn’t want to be an animal. I like being who I am.” Say word. The Dream boys and I enjoyed a screwdriver before it was time to shut it down for the night and they took off in their ultimate Ford Winstar van. Although they didn’t light their junk on fire as anticipated — something to do with the band’s parents being in the crowd that night, perhaps — GMPD was a rowdy, raw, wild show, the likes of which we certainly do not see every day in Sarasota. Come back and visit, boys!

After a very hearty traditional turkey day I was almost on my feet again by Friday night and hurriedly threw on my version of dancing shoes — patent open-toed pumps, natch — to join local PR maven Gayle Williams for the opening night of the Sarasota Ballet’s performance of Giselle. I snagged possibly the last open parking spot in downtown Sarasota and rushed into the Opera House just in time to get a program and fall breathlessly into my seat as visiting maestro Emil de Cou lifted his baton.

This was my first ballet since childhood and I was truly enthralled by the beauty and grace of the dancers’ movements. I loved watching the ballerinas flit about the stage, alternately playing joyful, murderous and everything in between. The second act of Giselle was even better, as the 20 ballerinas in beautiful white dresses — representing ghostly scorned lovers — all danced in unison while the single male dancer bounded fearfully across the stage.

The festivities continued that night at Urban Reef, aka the old Esca. I suppose I had been subconsciously boycotting the new place, but E.J. Porter’s invitation to his latest event, Black on Black Friday, the follow up to his successful Ultra White Affair at G.Wiz a few months back, was more than I could resist. As I described last time, Mr. Porter and his crowd know how to throw a party. Both floors of Esca — I mean Urban Reef — were closed to the public for the event and delicious spreads of food were lying in wait as well as two-for-one drinks and a great mix of classic soul and hot new hip-hop.

I’m not sure it’s possible, but the people were even more glammed up for this party than the last, with men in stunner shades left and right and ladies showing off shoulders and stilettos despite the chilly temps. By midnight, with the club completely packed, the doors were shut for the night. The event was surely a success, including one memorable moment getting trapped on the staircase with about 20 other partygoers when the rooms were too full to let anyone up or down. And what do you think we did? Start our own hallway dance party, of course.

The dancing continued into the wee hours on Friday. On Saturday, I rested. Something about beauty sleep? Yea. Sunday morning I was happy to drag myself out of bed and down to the CL offices to chip in with a little neighborhood clean-up prior to Rosemary Rising this Thursday — “Sarasota’s hippest holiday walk” if you didn’t know. After a little honest labor it was time for The Kidney Koncert, a benefit at The Children’s Garden for local bartender and friend to all Eddie Sager’s battle with kidney cancer.

In this just-off-the-beaten-path venue, friends of Eddie gathered to enjoy live music from Nino Pinelli, Tim Salem and Passerine among others, as well as a delicious whole roasted pig and old-fashioned mac ’n’ cheese, plus all the wine and beer you could drink. The dark night, cool air and whimsical garden was the perfect backdrop to conclude my week with one last pinot grigio. It feels great to be a city with so many caring, creative and enthusiastic people in all walks of life.

Bring it, Sarasota! Whatchu got next?

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Monsieur Depp is a gentleman, a scholar, and a sexy mothrf*ckr. Check out my own personal photo montage at right.

Contemporary art and low light set the mood at Selva. My date and I spend a short time waiting at the bar during which Sir Steve helps me choose a delicious martini made with Chambord, vanilla vodka, and champagne (the “French”). Vinny Sizemore, local playboy and owner of denim destination Stitch Boutique pops by with air kisses, and I politely wait before he is out of ear shot before turning to my date to tell him I’ve spotted a rival local girlie blogger sporting a very staid hot-pink pashmina/LBD combo. Ha. I always knew I was better…dressed.

Getting to the table I’m a little overwhelmed by the menu, and also the abundance of Affliction t-shirts in the room. While the atmosphere at Selva is quite elegant, it sadly seems to be a gathering spot for douchebags and their dates. Scanning the menu my date immediately chooses the octopus ceviche with avocado (yum), and I get an order of the truffle oil french fries to start (at right). Next, on the recommendation of several friends, I tried the tuna tartare, while my date had lobster with mango (also yum). The tuna was good, but not thrilling, and the service was definitely weak with no less than six different people bringing things to or from the table. Throw in a cheap bottle of wine and that killed my $100 gift card amount right quick so we button things up at Selva and bounce before we run into any more frenemies.

After a stop into Cork on St. Armands to scoop up one Miss JenKing visiting from New York, it’s over to Ivory, where the crew has gathered for Plush Entertainment’s big Website Launch Party.  This is where things start getting fuzzy. There’s music, my friends are there, and I have a long talk with a woman in a sparkly dress named Liz in the middle of the street. Next thing I know the place is closing and thankfully a beautiful friend gives me a ride out of there.

Unfortunately, said ride is to another party, but one can’t complain about being entertained at the fabulous home of Ivory Resident DJ Ansidis, aka Frank Enright. The Enrights are always consummate hosts, what with the fully stocked bar, built-in DJ setup, fire pit, hammock, and consistent carloads of great people. On this particular occasion one of those great people shows up with a bag of 20 tacos, which I happily dive into after my wimpy dinner, and then ask (very politely, no doubt) to please be taken home so I may pass out. I’ve got big plans for Saturday — making banners with a couple of favorite friends for the Sarasota Roller Girls‘ first bout tomorrow night. It will be my first derby bout too and I can’t wait.