Somehow 'You only get what you give' sounds like a closing song. I'm playing it anyway. It's Saturday night, people want a little bit of familiar. Feels like a friend night here at Camp. There is a big group of buddies playing Jenga in front of the dj booth. I think they'll be my barometer for tonight's set.
I here at Camp again in Carroll Gardens. A last minute gig shouted to me by Larry from the opposite end of the bar as I walked out last night at 4am. I didn't have any other plans and lord knows I need the cash so here I am once more. The dj booth here is hot. As in I am sweating. Considering putting the fan on in the bar in hopes it will coax some air my way. That was boring, sorry.
Just had my first sip of alcohol in a week. The fancy jalapeño, ginger, tequila was too tempting to pass up. Curiosity killed the cat though and I immediately felt a tremor in the right side of my head. I'm back on the wagon after I am done.
I had a lovely solo type day today. Sometimes I enjoy those more than anything. I walked down Calyer and what was suppose to be a huge neighborhood stoop sale but what was actually just two houses. At the bottom of Greenpoint Ave, I found a new home and antiques store called Le Grenier which had me fawning and jealous. The store had a beautiful backyard with roses and vines and a lush lawn. I didn't speak to the owner but I want to go back and introduce myself. Along Kent, two ladies were having their own stoop sales and at a large, stone brownstone I bought a pair of hand blown glass bottles, good for perhaps alcohol or infused vinegars and olive oils.
I think reading the blog of someone you are into is a bad idea, no? I wish I wasn't so bored right now or else it wouldn't keep taunting me...
But even if this doesn't end up how I think it will (in a burst of flames) then isn't finding out all of his blog confessions from him better? I think so. I should probably just delete it from my bookmarks but we all know that won't happen.
I'm back behind the virtual decks tonight, this time at my usual, Bar 4 on 7th Ave in Park Slope. Both Camp are partly owned by my amazing new friend Larry whom is a rock star. He also co-owns a few other places in Brooklyn, amongst them three of my favourite music venues: Southpaw, Matchless and Public Assembly. Matchless is sort of my local, it's only a few blocks from my apartment and Mike from WakeyWakey is a bartender over there which is nice.
Tonight's a bit slow. I've had two nights of a bit slow actually (sidenote, I think I use the word actually too often). Last night was the second installment of TheMusicSlut and BrooklySkiClub's joint jam, The Non-Worker Party at Red Star. The line-up was killer but the people didn't come. Lesson learned, in Greenpoint a week night does not work. Next month it's on a Friday... the same Friday I am back here. Damn.
So this whole sobriety thing, huh? I think my djing is suffering. For realz. Or maybe I just don't notice how much I stink while I'm on the sauce. Regardless, I'm determined to ride the wagon at least until June 2nd, when I have a drinks date with a big company about sponsorship. If they need me to have a pint in order to give me money, so be it.
I'm writing this post from behind the dj booth at Camp in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. Iggy Pop is singing 'Lust for Life' and I'm dancing all alone. No drinking tonight for me. No drinking for a while I think. I've been getting some terrible migraines lately and I don't know if they are caused by the booze but it certainly isn't helping so until my head comes back to normal, I'm going to lay off. Easier said than done when 90% of my drinking is free booze at either my parties or other people's but taking 6 ibuprofen at once is scarier to me than not taking advantage of an open bar.
My good friend Dawn once told me, in relation to men, that when it rains, it pours. And it's something I've always found to be true. Now it's not quite pouring at the moment but the clouds are rolling in and I can hear the thunder in the distance. It's gonna pour and this time, I'm going to be holding an umbrella. With my fingers crossed. And that's all I am going to say about that aspect of my life for the time being.
So lately, I've been thinking quite a bit about what I dreamed I would be when I grew up. Remembering that paper I wrote in first grade for Mrs. Roman about where we thought we would be at 20, 30, 40... I remember that I was perhaps a lawyer but more distinctly, I recall that when I was 20 I would have a convertible, RED, Beetle. At 30 I would have a RED Corvette and at 40 I would have a RED Porsche. When I was in elementary school, I was going to be a Paleontologist and then an Archaeologist. In middle school I had dreams of being a judge and in high school a career test confirmed- Judge. A few nights ago, as I struggled with Sea carrying a table from someone's trash to our apartment, heaving and dropping it, I yelled "I was suppose to be a lawyer!" I meant it in jest but sometimes it hits me like a pile of Sunday rubbish- where am I? What am I doing here? I'm behind this dj booth, struggling to pay rent when I have a fancy advanced degree from a fancy pants university, it's a far cry from where I once was headed. Not that I'm unhappy to be here. Not that I'm not excited all the time to be able to dj, go to fun parties, meet interesting and passionate people, wake up when I want, go to bed when I wish but sometimes I just think, what happened to being Dr. Kellas?
And as the months turn into years, I'm remembering too a book I read in elementary school by LM Montgomery about a girl named Sara and her family called The Story Girl (the tv show Avonlea is based on this). The family had a matriarch whom ruled over her brood of family and extended family with big gatherings and holidays on their farm, giving advice and watching her children's children grow. After reading that book, I wanted to be that matriarch. And thinking about it now, I still want to be her. One of the biggest disappoints in my life has been that my family moved all over the country. There was a once upon a time where both my parents families got together for holidays. When all the children lived close, or close enough. That was a great world to grow up in. I never knew about the underlying disfunction but while it lasted and while I was young enough, it still holds some of my happiest memories. I know I'm always a sucker for a party, but I want that. I want big family gatherings and children running around. I want big Christmas dinners again and Thanksgivings with huge turkeys. Despite my parents being blaise about these types of things, I can't deny my heritage. I come from people in which family was everything... I don't know where I am going with this anymore. Just that I think all that would be nice I suppose and it's something I've recently come to realize I still want.
