jnthn

clean clothes. yet I managed unwittingly to show up at the Cat with the same outfit I was wearing when I went the other night. wait, I had the jeans with the hole near the zipper that I just fixed and re-hole-i-fied itself as soon as I changed a record. no matter, I wasn't staying. ahhh, going from descriptions of pastoral backroads sunsets david-lynch-gulf-coast-karaoke a crush on the landscape and the bizarre back to "so I went down to the club..."

at home I'm a night-owl-prowler. it's weird realizing I'm outta here, convincing myself of a date and a plan and realizing the closer I get the more things are within my grasp here as well. the things I frustrate myself trying to make happen are that much more in my hand. as if DC were jealous and trying to keep me.

:"I have an idea for this one-off DJ night..."
:"Yeah, I'd be totally into it, call me this week."
:"I have another idea, too..."
:"that sounds good, and easy. we'll have to work into it, but it could probably work"

and then finally going to Electrotease and having the best time in a long time. It doesn't compute in my brain that it was 10 years ago, or more, but the last two years of high school revolved around clubbing, some pretty cutting edge techno back before you'd hear it in Nissan commercials, and, well, being in high school discovering this dreamy nexus b/w the dancefloor, the DJ at the top of the room, the girls dancing on the block, the feeling of revelation and debauchery and vodka rum gin tequila 2 for one open bar.

We parked ourselves above the DJ booth and were roped off after that so people were looking at us like we were VIP.

:"Are you the ones that are throwing this party?"
:"Ummm, yeah..."
;"ok, are there really going to be 45 people back here? I work here..."
:"yeah, I guess so..."

hee hee..

But I ran into this girl that saw one of my last housemates. I'm at a loss in moments where the intoxication level drops rapidly and yet our conversation is all eyes and smiles and...hmmm...there's a next time?!? But her friend...

:"you look really familiar."
:"I get that a lot. everywhere I go."
:"I've seen you before and you always look mad. I saw you in a parka a lot and you always look mean."
:"that's what my face looks like when it's not making an expression. I was probably high. I've met you before. I think you said you saw my band."
:"were you mean to me? people in bands are like that. I don't get out much. I'm so old, I'm almost 30, but I'm asian so you can't really tell..."

All the while Precious P is looking at me pointing toward the dance floor...

!!! POW POW POW!!!! MY TRACK!!!!
Fuck, it sounds so weird on the huge system. The bass...Damn!

Not 5 minutes later it's the Mt. Simms song I remixed. FUCK FUCK FUCK but it's not my mix, it's probably the...fuck was it Kid 606? Shit, whatever, so my mix is face down on the turntable, but it's spinning and I'm feeling some relief and, well, it's all come full circle. Not the first time I've heard one of my tracks in a club, but definitely the first time I've heard one in a big-ass dance club here.

Hmmm.... All that happened. And I got her number, the not the crazy one, even though she was nice and fun, too.

I love it when there's two of you and 4 girls and they're in a circle around you, it's late, you're on the roof, really good music playing, it's brighter than inside just from the citylights pumping into the clouds. that feeling you get on psychs when you leave the club and it's light blue all around. astro turf under the feet. and the marines are hovering over you with that glazed, drunko desperation that seems to not see you but focuses it's rabid libido on the female things around you. I got up for a second and this foggy lump of marine sat down and tried to get in on it. har fuckin' har. I love not having to compete and just watch them crash and burn on their own.

Anyway, I feel like shit and I totally earned it. It's saturday and the cool fall air is here, the curtains are glowing and I need a coffee.

Much love to my SG peeps today!!