Thursday early afternoon the decorating of Betty’s Blue Star began. After I picked up 2 dozen white balloons from the party store, Carlos and Raw Food Chris were kind enough in helping me hang up all the white stuff and throwing balloons everywhere. After 3 hours of decorating I rush down all the way to the southside to pick up five 3-foot-long hoagy sub sandwiches from this tiny weird shack called Taurus, then went over to another southside joint to get 150 pieces of chicken. Then it’s back to up north to get another black light and the birthday cake. At home all the tons and tons of food had to be cut up, arranged and brought down to the car. By that time (10:30pm) I had 30 minutes to try and look like a birthday goddess as opposed to the housekeeper look I was rocking all day.

I get to the club 35 minutes late, and amazingly the club is already crowded. It actually took my breath away when I saw all those people in white. Everyone looked so elegant! It took probably no more than 45 minutes for all the food to be gone. Literally. I turn around and all I see are bird carcasses. Damn. I guess everyone was hungry. But that made me happy

As the night wore on more and more people came, and Paul Johnson and Gene Hunt did their thing on the tables. The energy of the party was wonderful, and shots were being poured every which way towards me, even by all those broke and stingy people who never bought me shit. Yay! The drunker I got, the more I wanted to talk on the mic… thank God people steered me away from it whenever I mentioned getting on again. Emanuel, Terry Hunter, Stacy Kidd, Wayne Williams, Dave Risque, Alton Miller, Bear Who, Diz, Andre Harris, Lego, Hector Lopez and Mark Grant were some of the DJs that came through along with my old dancer friends and assorted househeads. It was so awesome!

By 3:00 when some folks were starting to leave, people asked me if anyone was going to sing happy birthday, after all there was still an untouched cake. I said I didn’t know I was hoping Rees was going to do that, so Scott the manager paged Rees on the mic several times. A few of my friends went outside to look for him, and I started getting antsy. Finally after several attempts by everyone to page/find him, the lovely Scott got on the mic himself, called me onstage and did a wonderful dedication to me. Everyone sang Happy Birthday and that really meant a lot to me. I am so grateful to the whole Betty’s staff because they take such good care of all of us.

At the end of the night Rees stumbles into the club like nothing happened. He had missed the whole thing. I guess the story goes was that one of my friends saw him outside the club and told him to come in, that they were about to sing to me. He waves the guy off and says “Hold on…” then proceeds to get inside a car with his boy and get fucked up. Isn’t that awesome? Fuck her birthday, I want to get loaded.

Despite that little tragedy, thank you to each and every one who came out and showed love. Especially those who wore white! I think I’m starting a bday tradition with this white party thing… it’s pretty cool