The days of fighting against the tide to go party are pretty much over for me, but I wanted to make the effort to see DC after building up the night in my head all week. After getting some shit done and looking forward to heading out it started raining, and visualizing the likelihood of a line made everything much less enticing. However, the rain stopped and by the time I made it down at around 11:00 or so there was an insignificant queue and I walked into a club that was filling up nicely.

Whoever was on at that moment was spinning a more bouncy flavour, but I didn't take as much notice as the many who were dancing as I was more focused on continuing the predrink ritual. Chilled with solacevip from over on Tribe and got reacquainted with another triber who I met earlier in the summer - J, don't let sugar get away now she's definitely a prize. I really like the smoking alley at FW where you meet all kinds who somehow found their way to the underground sounds helping to keep the scene fresh. A young Maritime couple who are here for school had me wanting to head over East for a pint of Moosehead and try out all the correct pronounciations I learned in the local dialect.

Eventually, I found my groove and at some point heard the distinct ramblings of one of Jack's kids in the house. DC delivered - all night. The room was comfortably packed and as we all got down the man brought his set to a crescendo that had many of us hollering and whistling our appreciation for his take on this thing we call House. I don't remember much except an all but too brief dance with Tara - I'm sure I met you last year at Twonz' party at the Basement, but I couldn't recollect at the time - and the feeling that jackin', DC mixed, Chicago house gives me, pure joy.

When DC closed the place down at 5 or so I had to go give him thanks and tell him about the first time I saw him in London, On as he was on his way to stardom, and showed me and countless others the heights - and depths - to which House music can take you. I'm sure you hear it all the time, but thanks - for real.

Not wanting to go quietly into the night, and keep the good times rolling, I headed off to CZ. For whatever reason it wasn't packed like it usually is on Sunday mornings, but plenty of bodies jackin' away. For most of the morning I ended up dancing with the gays in Boystown and talked with quite a few on the patio - I've always had an affinity for gays because they are the last group out there fighting for their civil rights and it was THEIR pain and joy that gave birth to Jack. And - for some fucked up reason it's only when I catch a gay vibe that I feel the need to strut like the peacock I'm not.

Unfortunately, on the way over I picked up some whiskey and slowly, but surely turned the corner from an 'I love you' drunk to a belligerent asshole. Some hater got me going for some probably dumb, insignificant reason and with the dj's - I think it was the Junkies - obliging with an aggressive tech-house vibe I turned it angry and danced like the Muay Thai fighter I wish I was. Although I made peace with the hater later on it made me realize I'm partying by pushing the limits again and not staying within them. It was another reminder of the need to always stay safe.

Time to dial it back for awhile and then some. I'm thinking grooving along with my favorite dancers at the local, friendly, neighborhood peeler bar will keep me satiated for a long while. Cheers all.