92nd street host Face with Dajae and her sister

I am vegetarian. I am eating a chicken wing. Why?

Monday I watch The Godfather of Disco, a documentary on West End Records’ Mel Cheren. It was very well done, and I couldn’t believe that the only people from the House community that showed up were Lady D (she was in the movie), David Sabat and myself.

The rest of the week is more writing, magazine drop-offs and club-hopping. Friday evening I stop in to WCRX 88.1 for the Masters in the Mix show. It was a special night because they were celebrating 25 years, and show host Mr. Fabulous had a lot of the other old school hosts come in and talk. Then I’m off to more parties and drops, until I settle myself at Angie and Face’s G-Spot party on 92nd Street. I knew the Louie Vega party at Zentra would be a madhouse so I stay safe and SOUTH. After that very fun time, we head on out to the regular afterhours spot on 71st Street and are treated very very well. The ceilings are like 5 feet, so you walk around with a constant hunch. I know I should go home, but then Andre Hatchett calls me up, we go and get his ass and drive over to Ms Linda Redd’s house to drink and scream some more. By the time we get done partying and I am home, it is a gosh-darn 10 in the morning. Great. And I got so much shit to do.

Saturday evening my girl Erika’s company puts on a dance and poetry show, of which I am the lovely mistress of ceremonies. I have 8 sheets of show notes and I’m praying I get all the acts and descriptions right. Luckily the show was sexual in content, so my usual potty mouth was very appropriate for the theme. I fucked up a couple of announcements but hey. I gave them my charming smile. After the show I go home and change, pretend to write an article, then head out to Lego’s monthly party at Darkroom followed by Smart Bar. I get tipsy and do what any drunk girl does: start a fight. Happy weekend!