Can't wait to hear about the Ukraine!

Ok so I know I got lotsa splaining to do for not updating this blahg but I really do have to wait for inspiration before I can start typing. If you're gonna take the time to read it I think it ought to be at least somewhat witty. So here goes....

When we last left off I believe I was heading into the weeeknd of Feb 29/March 1. The 29th was a friday and I was booked to play at what one could call my residency here in Barcelona- a club called Razzmatazz. (I'm playing there once a month.) It's a gigantic 5 clubs in one nightclub with all different sized rooms. And the music ranges from indie to pop to electro to trance to minimal depending on which room you are in. I believe the full capacity is something like 6000. Crazy, right? I usually play in the Rex Room or the Pop Bar which are the smaller rooms, think Gary 49. It's more of a straight vibe going on but really no one gives a fuck what or who you do they just wanna get effed up and dance. I've had great nights there and some shit ones so I always head to this job not knowing for sure what the night will be like. But the staff are super cool and give you the star treatment- dressing room, driver, bottles of whatever. And I'm not even the headliner. I get a couple friends to come over beforehand to have some vino and then around 2 we head to the club. OH and Mykle (aka Purple Pants) has flown in from Rome to hang out and make it one of his 3 birthday celebrations. He knows all my friends here and they live for his shenanigans. She's the craziest sober queen I know. So it's me Reuben, Julien (Reuben's french bf), and Mykle. Here's a pic....

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Reuben is one of the first people I ever met in Barcelona thanks to Ned Stressen-Reuter. He's canadian but has lived in BCN for like 7 years or something. Real fun laid back. Julien, his bf (on the right), is young and french. He acts real snobby but we make such fun of him and he loves it. Those 2 are called the horses. We gave them this name after Julien sneered at one of Reuben's ex-boyfriends and said "Him?!?! But he's such a pony!" Mykle and I howled! So Julien and Reuben became the horses. The plan is to meet up with our friend Keyan at Razz. So we jump in a cab (forgoing torturing the driver with our kiki-ing), get to the club, dive into the dressing room where we meet Keyan who has probably had 50 vodka cocktails. He's a beautiful persian/swiss/american fag that makes me feel like a teetotaler (ok, not really). Here's Keyan and Reuben in the dressing room...

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Here's Mykle and Julie. See....french.

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At 3:30 it's time to go on so we amble upstairs to the Rex Room and luckily it's packed and the dj before is playing great stuff but nothing that I want to play so it segues nicely into my set. The room is a million degrees and the windows are sweating. Really good fun. Unfortunately my pics from the dj booth are crap so I only got like one of Keyan and his workmates. Here...

Oh and here's me and my friend Javi who the angel who books me at Razz and is always dragging us to afterhours dens of iniquity. Totally adorable...

Ok it looks like my chin is about to fold up into my nose for some reason. I find it very difficult to take a normal picture when djing. Either I'm in the middle of mixing so one shoulder is up by my ear (Quasimodo style) and my headphones are pressing all the skin on my face forward so I look like a sharpie, OR, I'm drenched in sweat but don't realize it so the pic is just one big shiny reflection off my face. That photo I guess is a bit of a combo of the 2.

So at 6am we're back in the dressing room. Keyan has fallen asleep in Mykle's lap, Julie and Reuben are starving, and I am desperate to get home because I have to get on a flight to Kiev at 10am. CORRECTION: I have to sober up and get on a flight to Kiev at 10am. CORRECTION: I have to sober up and get on 3 flights that will eventually land me in Dnepropetrovsk in the Ukraine. No joke that's how you spell it. This is a last minute bookng that I'm sort of dreading not only because of the 10 hour travel time but also because I just get the sense that there's been no promotion, it's a new club, and it's just south of bumblefuckshire. However, this is strictly one of those hooker gigs where I'm just a girl who can't say Nyet to that amount of rubles. It's an adventure I guess.

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How many times have I told you about the perils of having your picture taken with your headphones under your chin!!!!
Will you ever learn?!!!!

Honey, you better get out of Spain before it's too late.
Your nose is startin' to look...
"European".

Is that Celine Dion's brother on the left?

It's always been that way. It's just that no one takes pictures of it in the states. BAH!

Tell us about Dnepropetrovsk Pickles!
I've only ever been to Dntzstrnztdgkstanztkltzt.

Alright, so after 45 minutes of sleep that sat. morning I make it to the airport and make all my flights and surprisingly I feel not too bad. I check into the hotel and an hour later we're off to the club. A place called Opera which some russian mafia dude has just opened spending supposedly 30 mill on. It looks like an opera house with several balconies looking over the dancefloor. The place holds about 600 and tonight there are about 100 people. Luckily I have come to find out that I am not alone on the bill. They have hired the singer from Mousse T, a fierce lady by the name of Emma Lanford. We meet in the dressing room and get on like a drunk house on fire. We're both gagging at the lack of people but promise to suppor each other throughout the night. Here's us with the promoter, this cool guy named Bart from Kiev who is just hired by the owner to throw money around.

As you can tell from the dressing room they went for ye olde timey realness, including flat screen tv. But all is not so bad and the floor is somewhat full when Emma takes the stage. The club is actually quite pretty and would be fun if it were just a bit...fuller. But these kids live for Emma's tracks so its not so bad.

You can see the guy filming and what he is shooting is showing on that huge screen at the back of the stage.

I like this shot cause I am literally crouching behind the dj deck to get it. I'm about to start.

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Ok so about 1am I go on and with me come a troupe of gogo girls in top hats. This is great because I love when I'm not just standing alone in a dj booth on a stage. It helps to have things moving to distract attention from the fact that I don't move much. Ok that's not true, I dance and sing along to the records much to the chagrin of my dj father. BAH! Once a JC always a JC. The club is clearly for the owner to show off and buy pretty girls drinks. People stay and dance till about 2:30 and then boom someone lets the air out of the party and it's just me Emma and Bart dancing onstage in front of 5 people standing at the bar watching. While the night was a bit of a bust it's been good PR with Bart cause he apparently does lots of cool stuff around Kiev (according to Emma who knows him well). But wait the night isn't over...

Back in the dressing room Bart grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels and the 3 of us head to my hotel room via McDonald's (always a good idea at 3am in the Ukraine) for a late night booze cruise. We carry on till about 6 and then say goodnight. At 1:30pm we're all back together in the lobby. Fortunately Emma and I are taking the same flight to Vienna (she transfers to Hanover, I to Bacelona). We decide the best way to avoid what seems like an imminent hangover is to have a beer in the airport pub. BTW the airpot in Dprovovkskoveslasdk is exactly as you'd imagine. 2 gates, 1 pub, and a duty free shop selling vodka and Davidoff cologne. But the genius thing is that they don't have those row of uncomfortable seats that look like they were made so homeless people can't stretch out on them. No. They have huge pleather sofas arranged like it's a living room. WITH tall fake plants. We board our flight and get to spend the next 2.5 hours just laughing and scratching like us girls do. OMG I forgot to tell you that during my set at Opera, at one point they send out the second round of dancers and this time they all have fake afros on. I am speechless. Like, are they doing it cause Emma is here or is it just "Hey, it's a prty put on an afro!" Either way it seems a tad racially insensitive.

Arriving in Vienna we bid a hasty adieu because she has to run run run to catch her connecting flight while I have 3 hours to waste. It's so rare that I get to have a buddy along for these journeys, especially the airplane portion so it was really fierce to meet Emma and I hope we cross paths again soon. And if anyone out ther ever needs a voice to a song look her up on myspace cause she has major pipes!

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That is so funny, when I was in Moscow a few months ago the club was handing out afro wigs to the crowd.
What is that about?
I was just on the phone with Larry Tee. He just got back from Moscow. We were comparing notes.
Russia is a strange place with a lot of money.

Guess waiting in line for toilet paper pays off eventually.

Now there are long lines for Afro wigs.
Poor things.
And we have so many...
at least I do.