Why I Love DJ Chicken George

Ok, so I love the hip hop. And, I have many people to thank for that. Jesi, you bought of the first serious stereo I ever knew in a vehicle so you could blare Dr. Dre (The Chronic) in the circle in high school to piss off the cowboys, it was AWESOME. MTV, thank you for Yo! MTV Raps. You were a source for music that might have taken years to come to me by wagon train. Josh, thank you for making me study the hell out of everyone on Cash Money Records. Though not my style, I learned alot about recording and business in a weird way. Nomen, thank you for laughing at me when I said I loved hip-hop, yet had no idea who Talib Kweli was. You told me to educate myself, and I did. I now feel proud to turn you on to a new underground track and hold an intelligent conversation about what I like. Plus, I am not sure at this point how I ever lived without Slum Village.
But, DJ Chicken George is my buddy. He plays our club from time to time for much less than what he normally makes I'm sure. And, I have asked many a DJ to burn a track for me, but blah, blah,blah...you know the story. However, about a month ago I got a package in the mail full of CD's he thought I would like and it is like he crawled inside my head and found every song I already loved and a bunch of new stuff that is now my favorite. He plays my song every time he plays the club. He makes inventive soundscapes that cuddle me up like a warm fuzzy blanket on all his orignal shit. He is jazzy and old school and he smiles alot. And he's super cool to everybody. I might make him my VP someday just so I know the music will always be hot and the mood will be chill. Hey, if all the world listened to Chicken George, there would be no terrorism. DJ CG is awesome. (And he is a marketing God. I swear, his logo may surpass the actual Chanel one day). If you are in Austin, catch him on the radio. If you see him on a club tour, go. Buy his CD's, buy his clothes, and be his friend, cuz he is awesome. I love you Chicken George, and that is my payback for the best box set ever.
See you soon.

Patron of the Week

OK, so I have been thoroughly wrapped up in reading the "Intelligence Report" this holiday weekend. It is rather funny because one of my very favorite patrons at the bar always brings me "Political Science Quarterly" and some other periodicals he thinks I will find interesting, but the "Intelligence Report" is put out by the Southern Poverty Law Center and chronicles America's hate groups, their leaders, their legislation, and any new cases being brought to trial. (Whoever had the idea to publicize and expose these people, bravo. It is scary at times to read about politicians or media figures I thought I backed until I learned of sub-agendas.) But anyhow, I was in a weird place this weekend as I tried to remember what this holiday is about and the sacrafice people have made, but in a time where I don't believe in the war we wage, it left me just plain confused and saddened. Then enter BAR PATRON OF THE WEEK.
Now, as I read the Intelligence Report, I ask myself sometimes if there is any group of people I deem as less than me or that I hate, hell, even dislike upon the first sight of them. Thought I was in the clear, until this weekend. I do not like middle aged white males with handle bar mustaches waxed into pointed perfection.
Now, I have only met three in my time, but they have all been scary good ol' boys. (Ah, Louisianna State Trooper who made me kneel at the back of my car with hands raised and your weapon drawn, I wasn't trying to be "a sassy know-it-all", just felt you were being a tad overbearing with your state given authority.) I'm sorry. I feel genuinely bad about not liking you, handle bar mustache guy, and I hope that someday I meet the one of you who makes me realize not all of you are the same, but alas, experience has not proved this to me as of yet.
Soooo.....our DJ on Saturday night has just set up and I notice Handle Bar Mustache Guy (HBMG) coming downstairs and seperating from his group to go on a post martini liberal hunt. I judged him initially. Very "you aren't from around here" type once over. However, I was in a text war with an anonymous party, so my attention was already taken. Five minutes later, I am being called upstairs as someone wants to talk to a manager. A guy in a 2 gallon cowboy hat and a mustache I am told. Something happened with the DJ.
Now, I can already guess the source of the problem. Our DJ is wearing a T-shirt with a picture of Dubya reading "Not My President" down the side. Everyone at work loves the shirt, but hey, we're not exactly conservative in any form to say the least. Being that the other manager was off, I have no choice but to field this one and keeping my mouth shut when it comes to political views......well, not necessarily one of my strongpoints. But it was awesome.
Here's the thing, HBMG let's me know he is taking his party and leaving. Oh yes, because of the DJ's shirt. Ah, but this is the best part. He curtly explains to me that he has fought in "many wars" alongside "many men who have died for their country and the freedom's there in." He also "knows our Commander in Chief and cannot support an establishment that supports such blatant disrepect." Alrighty. And I was so good, nodding and saying I'm sorry he feels this way(by the way, as he harrassed the DJ, our DJ happened to throw out "Oh, so you're part of the 31%. " Priceless) But now in the safety of my bloggy space, I want to offer someting as I was verbally attacked in a similiar fashion after wearing a WAR IS NOT THE ANSWER shirt to work oneday. I, nor our DJ, are on a mission to upset YOU personally. We are merely expressing an opinion we believe in enough to paint it on our chests. You get to have Bush bumperstickers, we get our shirts. But before you get your mustache all in a tangle, dude, remember what exactly those "freedoms" you fight for are. Yep, we can wear whatever shirt we want. Yippy. And by the way, I didn't kick you out for bad facial hair, not tipping, and being a general pain in my ass early on a Saturday night. Freedom Rules!!! And HBMG, you are officially "Patron of the Week". Good job. The year's supply of mustache wax is on the way.

Who Reads Blogs?

I'm back. Yep. Took my little hiatus and feel a little more at ease now. But alas, I am back with some stories. First off, I guess it's time for a major shoutout guys. Hey everyone who I haven't talked to in years and is super freaked out right now after stumbling onto my blog. (Makes a little sense now why I missed the 10 year right?) And, I want everyone to know that I have not lost my mind in being so open about my life, just needed to share when I was ready. But, Andrea, thank you so much for the words of encouragement. It really made my day more than you'll ever know. Girl Scouts truly are down for life. Who knew? But, due to the fact that I still plan on being the first female President while being on a steady run on Broadway, hey, I might as well get this all out there first and beat the mudslingers to it. And, it is rather theraputic.
However, I guess I should share a couple of other things so it doesn't look like I have set sail on the crazy boat to venture across the Sea of Sad. I am currently a poli-sci major and I manage a bar in the downtown area. I plan to move to my Mecca (if ya know me, ya know where) within the year to complete my degree, dominate the nightclub scene, and get married. The school, the clubscene, and the guy aren't all on board yet, but being me, gravy baby. Not too scared to go for what I want. I will however settle for getting the degree. But, that's the scene here. Start summer school on Tuesday and plan to head for Europe this August to go clear my head so I can go into Rocky mode prior to my "Next Bold Move."So now, back to general blogging and bitching. Thanks guys, when you've been gone out in the world for awhile, sometimes you lose sight of home. Ya'll made me remember.

Mothers' Day

I guess it is probably pretty obvious that today is not exactly the happiest of days for me. I keep trying to focus on the big scheme of things, but I'm left just feeling empty. I've gotten several phone messages from the happiest of the happy wishing me well, to the "I know you're sitting there screening calls but if you need me I'm here". Couldn't say what I need today. Everyone asked me why I let Nomen come visit. Shit, I had people actually threatening to take him out if they saw him....(FYI--if you're one of my closest friends, you don't have it in you to cap somebody's ass. Know that. i love you. I think of myself as pretty hard when it comes down to it, but I am also selective in choosing you guys. If I keep you that close, I have every confidence that you will not harm another human being's life. But thanks for extending the offers guys.) Anyhow, before Nomen reads this and wonders where I am going with it, why have him here? I love him guys. I love him when he is good to me, and I love him when he is not. And it's not going anywhere. That's not to say that I will take whatever forever, but I ache without him. Same thing with my daughter. I can make it through this, but it sure smarts somethin' awful. I officially have a family of my own. Now, there isn't a fairytale ending here to say the least, but the whole mommy--daddy---baby bond is there and forever will be. I wish I could be more like alot of the single moms or birth mothers I meet. They wave a big buh-bye and never look back again. No contact with the dads, no contact with the adopted children. It's an out of sight, out of mind tactic. Can't do it guys, no matter how much anyone feels I should. So, on this Mothers' Day when no one knows what the hell to say or do, I need you to give me the gift of letting me try to find peace and happiness my way. For real, the "but didn't he's?" and "but don't you?" need to stop. People get broken, but they mend. And honestly, no matter how close you are to me and how you know the whole story and it hurt you too, I know the pain and the tears of this situation better than anyone. I haven't lost my mind. i've just tried to get by the best I can. Maybe I found some dangerous ways to cope at times, but I'm still here, rowdy and tenacious as ever. And if I stand a chance at coming to peace with this and moving on and being happy, I need that, I want that, and I deserve that. Today sucks. It will for awhile probably. Until i oneday have the family to cherish on this day, it is just a reminder. But, as of my next blog, I hope to be back up to my charming and witty self instead of this ball of sad. Hang in there guys....I am.