June 26, 2008
Shows and Sick Girl
me in the front left with a bunch of other Marilyn Monroes vogueing |
On the right this time doing an Indian dance with another queen |
Over the weekend I catch the flu... I am feverish, restless and congested. I cannot get out of bed. Best of all, I have a big show at the Park West on Monday, with early morning dress rehearsals on Sunday. I pray I will miraculously heal. I don't.
The show I'm in is called "Big Wigs Live", which stars 10 of the some of the country's biggest drag queens, and about 15 male and female dancers doing elaborate, Vegas-style numbers with them. It's a great show and all for charity. It's nice to work with real professional dancers, as opposed to so many of the street dancers I've had to deal with all these years who have no concept of time nor integrity. So sick or no sick, I am on my best behavior because I'm with the best of the best.
Monday night the show is a huge success, with lots of money raised. Afterwards we all go to a Wells Street bar where a spiky-haired "DJ" occasionally steps up to his iMac to push a button and play a radio hit. When he keeps scratching I try not to laugh. I think he was scratching with his mouse. But I'm having a great time partying, deliriously exhausted and obnoxiously screaming with the other queens. I coerce everyone to go to Green Dolphin next, and I don't remember what happens after that.
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June 17, 2008
Fiesta Fiesta!
with friends at the PR fest |
Thursday I do this cute little hostess/model/smiling girl-dressed-as-a-referee gig for a huge benefit at a Soldier Field banquet hall, which allowed me not only to pose next to Mayor Daley, but whose paycheck also helped get me a lovely new Pioneer CDJ.
Friday at the Puerto Rican festival, House Music got to have one stage all to itself. And unlike the one hour allotted to me last year, this time they let Ron Carroll have the whole day with several of Chicago's finest DJs playing. The star of the show was Gantman, because once he started playing all that juking and booty popping music, all the kids (and they literally were kids) ran up to the stage. They then had a "footwork" contest, which was really an ass-jacking-sex-simulation contest that had me wide-eyed and disturbed, because none of the contestants could have been more than 15. (If I ever have a daughter she will be raised by nuns in India, certainly not participating in "footwork" competitions.)
With all that said, me and my friends had a good time. The turnout overall was a little lighter this year, and everyone looked like they were in Middle School. After the festival we have drinks at Moonshine, hit up the Silver Room anniversary party, go to Religion to pick up a late check and then end at a friend's House party. One of Rees' boys says a Spanish phrase to me where he "jokingly" calls me a bitch, and I should have gone with my instinct to backhand him.
Saturday was our "Strobelight Revival" party at KStarke Records, where Leonard Part Sixx and Rees spun. Now that was a blast! I ordered 2 massive boxes of pizza for the hungry guests and Kevin Starke provided a keg of beer and vodka. Luigi came along to get his party on, and the poor thing finally knocked out on the couch by 5am.
Sunday morning (with less than 2 hours sleep) I get up for my 5 hour dance rehearsal. I am hungover (or am I still drunk?) and in massive pain. I want to sleeeeeeeep. I somehow make it through the day, and in lieu of rest head to the Montrose dog beach. While Luigi is swimming and fetching tennis balls, I am making sure I don't step on the many piles of shit. Later that night Rees plays at Betty's, and I cannot get myself to stay in the DJ booth longer than 1 minute.
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June 13, 2008
Drugged, Robbed and Other Fun Weekend Stuff
Friday night after hanging out at a friend's house, a drink that we thought was just a drink left us up, hallucinating and dealing with extreme body temperature changes. I was livid. Who would do such a thing? So I started to get cranky ("I'm Hot! Cold! Hot! Cold! GET OFF OF ME!!!), while poor Rees proceeded to call his boys, stare out my 30th story window and look at the pretty cars. My carpet distracted me. My muscles were tense and no matter how much I prayed... I couldn't go to sleep. Crap. Needless to say, Saturday was a nightmare waiting for whatever evil chemical there was in our bodies to flush out.
Saturday night we had to go to Smart Bar for Mark Farina, as he was interviewed in this month's issue. Mark is awesome, so intense and into his sets... his crowd, I'm not such a big fan of. Given my current physical and psychological state, large masses of people that are jumping and sweaty, bumping into you and spilling their drinks, doing their e-dance... not fun for unhappy Czarina.
Then Sunday night after having 3 friends over, My iPhone is stolen along with my gold credit cards. Wonderful. Everyone is searched, interrogated but to no avail. As of 2 years ago I've stopped having big crowds at my house, I am careful now. Only 3 people at my house. And someone went into my purse and took my shit.
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June 6, 2008
DJ Booth Whore
So a few nights ago while watching a very well known DJ playing up on a high (and tiny) booth, I saw his girlfriend (or girl for the night) standing right next to him, looking like one of those dead model posers in hiphop music videos. She literally just stood there, occasionally looking around the room to show that she was with the DJ. I so wanted to laugh.
I mentioned this to my "boyfriend", and he said he liked it when his ex-girls would stand by him. Now mind you, prior to me he was with 19-year-old groupie bitches with no self esteem, but maybe having a girl shadowing you while you play does make your dick look bigger. And she more important. I don't know. I am the biggest supporter of my DJ, but I also like to give him his space. The only time I've ever "hung out" in a booth is when I've been asked to and if there's room for it (usually with Andre Hatchett or Dana Powell.) I also don't want to make myself look like some territorial groupie bitch, acting as a gatekeeper to anyone who may want to talk to him. Usually I'm in the vicinity either bringing him drinks, taking his pictures, buying drinks for my friends who came to support, or dancing and cheering him on. Isn't that a true sign of a girlfriend championing her man?
Screw it... let me pile on more lip gloss, shoot up some heroin, then stand next to the DJ and look like I'm fly.
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June 4, 2008
Stuff
The Martinez Brothers @ Religion |
If you haven't already, listen to the latest 5 Magazine Radio Show we taped last week... Leather men invading the Hyatt, suburban hell, my court time and irritating cops are some of the topics touched on.
Friday night the 3rd floor of Club 720 (which has been renamed Religion) the Martinez Brothers come from New York to make their first Chicago appearance. They are so amazing to hear... their mixing is flawless, the music dope. At a mere 16 and 19, they spin like seasoned veterans, yet they have the most childlike and unassuming personas.
Sunday is the Division Street festival, which was pretty fun. A band was playing with the guys in gold spandex underwear, lots and lots of fake boobs and tons of cute doggies. Later that night we go to hear DJ Deeon at Lava Lounge, later followed by Glenn Underground and Izrael at Betty's.
a band with spandex booty shorts performing at the Division Street Festival |
Tuesday is Luigi's graduation for his beginning class in agility... he's very intelligent and athletic, but also very hyper, choosing his own obstacles instead of always following me. I'm very happy that he still has his psychotic tendencies, that means he's still young at heart!
Luigi at his agility class |
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