Monday already?!

Wow, how could a weekend that had so much nightlife potential turn into a slumber party?

Originally, I had events penciled into my calendar weeks ago but those plans were scrapped when some random food at Baja Fresh on Friday afternoon killed the buzz. I managed to hit the gym on Friday evening for a little upper body action despite me experiencing the beginning stages of an illness.

After a very quick workout, I headed over to Eleven for a few drinks. I was hoping downing some cocktails would squash the oncoming rapture of foul feelings. Call me crazy, but I like to think that alcohol is a sickness repellent. Well, after four cocktails, seeing a few former tricks, spotting the fellow homos from the gym, spraying my cynical seed from my mouth regarding the clones in the bar, and stuffing my throat with late night Thai food at 3am, I still didn't feel all that much better. I guess I am not as young as I once was.

Cut to Sunday morning 4am... I awake. I completely surpassed Saturday by sleeping through it. I slept for close to 20 hours. This totally threw me off because upon opening my eyes I felt it was early Saturday evening. I couldn't believe I missed an entire day. I had wanted to attend Bang's 8 Year Anniversary on Saturday night. I was hoping to shake my ass to some 60's Mod and Brit Pop. Fuck. I was a little upset, but on the same token, a bit relieved that I had gotten some rest.

Since I was up, I put Sunday morning to use by completing the chore of laundry at Lucy's Laundromat in Hollywood. The scene was interesting, as well as down right annoying. All thanks to a Mexican family with two very young rambunctious boys who I shot dirty looks to numerous times. To add fuel to the fire, the mother of the boys got into a shouting match with another lady regarding their respective loads of laundry. The two women immaturely yelled at each other "No, you shut up" repeatedly for what seemed like an eternity. The entire male clientele was quite entertained from the antics of the two old cats verbally clawing at each other. I wanted out of there, and I couldn't leave fast enough.

After that came breakfast at The Griddle. I filled my belly with their scrumcicous Tequila Sunrise (Huevos Rancheros) - which only lead to a stomach ache. A helping of DVD & CD shopping at the closing Virgin Megastore on Sunset only masked the pain for a few short hours.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was tired, achy, and feeling somewhat ill again. I wanted to overcome it by hitting the gym, and dancing the night away at Scandal at The Fonda. Scandal was bringing in one of my favorite DJs from New York - Peter Rauhofer. The last time I heard him spin was ages ago. I had been psyching myself up for this night for the past month. I figured if I forgo the gym, and get in a nap before club time, I would be up to speed for a few hours of rug cutting. Not quite.

I woke up at 11:30pm, showered, ate, but by 1am, I wasn't feeling in the mood to be neck and neck with a few hundred shirtless circuit queens. Even though I was frustrated by inability to overcome the foul feelings I was having, I though to myself "I guess there will be other times" and "my health is more important". But damn, I still could not help feeling a bit down. I was really looking forward to releasing any stress I had built up inside of me by getting lost in the dark tribal sounds of sex club music.

Oh well, here's to hoping that next weekend will bring that opportunity. I always manage to find myself a good time. Whether it be with music, shopping, working out, or sex, the world doesn't end by missing one party.