i got it bad, i got it bad, i got it bad. i'm hot for teacher.

I'm high. Not off any illegal substances, but I'm experiencing the adrenaline hungover, which is similar to a caffeine-induced rush. But I'm also exhausted because it's almost 3 am and I must be lonely. Wait, that's a bad song lyric, not my life. Let's see if I can put this together.

My afternoon was very mellow and I napped in anticipation of being up late. I packed my bag for the gig, and overpacked, as usual, but in good way, i.e. there were still songs at the end of the night I could have played AND would have liked to play, but for the most part I was satisfied with the set. Anyway, the show went excellent, from my vantage point, which was mostly the DJ booth. I loved being above the dance floor with a great view. I could dance to the music if I wanted, in my sort of "standing dance" way, and sing along and knew I'd be satisfied with what got played since after all, I was playing it. I was extremely nervous in the beginning because of the massive set up with 8 lines and such. But in the end I figured it out, and the other guys in the booth were all very nice. I probably should have capitalized on the networking more, but I was too nervous.

The set was mostly "crowd-pleasers". But I'm happy with how I played mostly new, and threw in some old favorites. I pretty much played ze to the ro house music, which I'm not morally opposed to or anything, but I was 'hired' specifically becacuse I don't generally play it.

Warning, I'm about to vent about a stupid minor racist incident. Please Scroll Down if don't feel particularly compelled to play confessee and you'd like to just pick up where the story continues. Look for the row of asteriks and start after it.

There was one bizarre incident regarding a person who shall remain nameless -- real or fake. They are just an acquaintance, a casual friend of a good friend, but I hadn't seen them in awhile and stopped them to say howdy. They then proceeded to say, in relation to the previous event in the club, which was the Mexian T-Dance, "Not to sound racist, but..." and then proceeded to say something racist, of course. Something to the effect of needing to play transition music so the people who are there for the latin music will know that the next event is a white show. It was a loud club, so I can't quote the person exactly, but it's pretty damn close. I just said "I can't really begin to dissect that stupid statement right now, so let's just say it has more to do with style of music -- they're playing house music, the Kings don't play club music. It has nothing to do with anything else."

And they wonder why there are problems with diversity.

I suppose I should have also said that I'd had to resign as a DJ, since very little of my set was white music. Whatever the fck that means. Way to ruin the beginning of my evening you stupid ass fck.

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So I was very proud of my abiltiy to hold the crowd, even on a Sunday night. I even got a compliment from the Circuit sound guy who said I had a Saturday night crowd and I could play ANYTHING and they would be with me. But I am a realistic jealous lover of a DJ, and understand the fickle nature of my beloved crowd. I know I can lose them in an instant. Or more accurately, in 3 minutes and 45 seconds if I don't play something familiar or at least so slamming you want it to be familiar. Hence me sticking to crowd-pleasers.

But I didn't sweat it too much and I think most eveyone enjoyed themselves. Some more than others, like Damon. But I'll leave his exploits to his non-existant livejournal.

And limenal was wonderful and stayed to the bitter end. Unfortunately, she can't sleep in like I can.

Also I got flashed by three hot chicks at the bar. Okay, one of them was MelRo. And the other two were her/our friends. And it wasn't quite Mardi Gras because they were still wearing bras and I had no beads to throw. But I still lost it when they lifted up their shirts. I'm wondering if the bartender enjoyed it. I think the bartender was scoping me earlier in the evening and offered me a drink and I declined like a thirsty fool. I also got asked out on a friend date by one of the Kings. I would love to attend a movie or consume a beer or coffee with this person, and hopefully they will e-mail me. I will also have to struggle with using female pronouns with them -- all the kings are such 'he's' to me (complete with annoying male ego at times). Though maybe I'll just ask and they might even like hearing me say it as an extra special treat. Sometimes I'm actually much better at fluidity than sticking to one gender.

I think the burn of the laptop is keeping my roommate/life partner awake, so I'll stop my rambling. I think I'm coming off the high too, because now I"m hunger. But I will just sleep instead.

do you always talk in bumper stickers?

I never realized I generally read 50 friends entries a day. It takes a lot longer to do that in one sitting, rather than spreading it out over the workday.

Define strange.
1. Meryl Streep portraying Carrie Fisher and Shirley MacLaine playing Debbie Reynolds.
2. Gay men calling their boyfriends/partners/spouses their "lover". Wait, scratch that. Gay men doing it is dated. ANYONE ELSE doing it is strange.
3. Me having an extensive library of unread (good) books, a large collection of great albums, and a wonderful music-producing toy, yet I'm spending time watching a movie I've seen before, specifically Postcards from the Edge.

So, yeah, I'm trying to organize all my paperwork and files. MelRo asked if I was envious of her organization. I said no. Because soon my files will be organized and there will be nothing to envy. So my denial was an attempt at positive thinking. I am making great progress on the piles of paper. Maybe I'll listen to music to keep me company rather than the TV -- less distracting. I should also put the computer in the other room to avoid temptation.

Oh, and this morning I was fooled by the radio playing an April Fool's joke on their listeners, announcing that Halle Berry's oscar was returned because Price Waterhouse miscounted and Sissy Spacek was the true winner. They were talking about a boycott of hollywood and gettin Rev. Al Sharpton involved. Like every good urban legend, it was far fetched, but had enough resemblings of truth to get folks going, so I must hand it to them. Of course, as soon as I turned on the TV and flipped around the channels, I figured out what was going on.

Oooh, TNG is on. Perhaps I'll allow myself to finish this hour with the television on. Coincidentally enough, it's the transgender episode. Sort of. Maybe it's supposed to be the gay episode. It's the one with the genderless society, where a small percentage of people feel they identify with one gender, and they must go through pyschiatric treatment. The future has an ex-gay movement, apparently.