On Friday night Scott (from Patrick and Noah Show) and I made plans to go to dinner and then come over and work on getting my hardware up and running for podcasting. While we were Skype-ing, Fausto came in and said after much ceremonial ado, decided to join us at Caesar’s for mexican (whilst Ron worked on his pumpitude at the gym). Scott and I met on Pine Grove and walked to the restaurant, Fausto went to the Caesar’s on Clark instead of the one on Broadway, where we awaited his audience. As Scott and I dove into our margaritas, Fausto made it over and we feasted and gabbed and even received complimentary tequila shots on the way out.
We made our way to my place. I introduced the cat to them and Astro took well to both of them, even sharpening his claws on Scott’s designers jeans (I forgot to clip his claws this week). We toyed with my Yamaha MG-10 mixer, Ultra-Voice Digital processor and Altec mic (thanks, Paul. I learned that I have to have the mic go through the mixer, through the compressor and then back through the mixer before sending it through the Eiderol USB interface and into the computer. The biggest tip was to work on the mixer first with just the headset plugged in there, then move to the compressor and work there, then back onto the mixer and then – and only then – move into the computer. Makes perfectly logical sense once you think about it. All clothes stayed on for those taking my ‘shirtless sound design’ remarks on P & N too seriously.
Fausto called his beau Mark, who was working at his bartending job at at Lincoln Park watering hole and we went over there and sat in the corner drinking cocktails and champagne. I had my first Terry Schiavo, a truly tastlessly named drink, that didn’t make me feel like I was in a coma or wish my ventilator to be turned off. Kitchen staff came out and conversed with Fausto en espanol about ‘canadiense musculosos’ and other bi-lingual nicetieis – ending in a new cocktail named for one of Mark’s (supposedly closeted co-workers) a Canadian Muscle Bottom. That was around the time my second glass of champagne made its way into my bloodstream. Mark got off work around 2, they dropped me off at Ron’s and then he and I went to breakfast at Melrose and got back to his place at 3. Woke up and went to the gym.
On the way out of the gym, we stopped at the freshly opened Eatzi’s, a gourmet food court/market that opened in the bottom floor of the Century mall. The place had been months in the building and I was actually impressed with the huge variety of offerings from soups, sandwiches and salads to a pastry kitchen, bakery, pizza oven, wine market, cheese section and more dinner-ish entrees. A bit expensive but someone did their research because Lakeview yuppies LOVE this stuff.
On the way out of Eatzi’s we decided to turn right back around and go see a movie at the Century: March of the Penguins. It was a great movie and the only annoyance was when Mrs. Harkonnen came stumbling into the theatre just as the opening credits rolled wheezing like a dying Anakin. She plodded into the front row and I felt good knowing that Ron knows how to use a defibrilator. The worst part was her plastic bag. I really think she could have saved her arterial walls and waited – the next showing was in 2 hours.
Came out of the movie, came home and slept all afternoon and then we went out to dinner at Joy’s. That place is so goddamned bright. It is like trying to dine in an interrogation room staffed with Thai Bechtel employees. The place makes me nervous because it is so bright – like a 7/11 or a Steak and Shake at 3am. I remain underwhelmed with Joy’s cuisine. It still tastes and smells and looks all the same – though I always laugh at how fast they serve you – almost like a McDonalds. We then realized we couldn’t go out dancing that early so came home and Ron hemmed and hawed over his new Razr phone that seems to switch off everytime it loses a signal.
Made our way to Circuit, where we hadn’t been in a very long time – since before they did all their soundproofing due to the bourgeoisie next tour. The music was fantastic. The club was visibly smaller, probably due to all the padding they’ve had to add. Saw new faces and old – as I’ve often said to Ron: it will all still be there if we decide to go back to it.
At 1:30 the house DJ wound down, white screens lifted to a thumping mixmastery revealing DJ Sonique began her set. It was fun to hear a DJ sing songs as they mixed and she cranked out Sky to a crazy, rowdy crowd. The rest of her set seemed sort of ‘house-y’ and less edged so Ron and I retired for the evening. Our Red Bulls kicked in later than suspected and I was tossing and turning at 7 this morning. Surfed the news for a spell and then came home to a purring puss and a waiting inbox.
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