93: secret asian man

So when I had dinner with Kevin and Michael a few nights ago, Kevin told me that the Basement Jaxx were spinning at RedNoFive this week and did I want to go? Um, yes. YES, PLEASE!

Seriously, July is all about music, as I’ve been going out quite a bit this month. First there was Jeremy’s show last week, and Basement Jaxx last night. I’m going to the Depeche Mode/New Order tribute at Empty Bottle this Saturday, and I’m all up for Flickerstick at the Metro next week (Stef, you still with me on the last one?) Oh, and Ibrahim Ferrer at Ravinia on the 24th. I know it seems like a lot, but I see all this concert-going as makeup for a long and cold winter. Also, a lot of these shows were pretty dang cheap.

So I got a manicure last night, using $19 of the last $24 on the gift certificate that Sean and Michelle got me for my birthday. I know that some of y’all go to those little places that charge $6 or something, but dude this salon (Maxine on Rush street) is so nice. They do manicures and pedicures on the top floor, which has a balcony, skylights, soft music, and a decent (if small) selection of magazines. I had my nails done by Olga, and I felt really bad when Eve (the girl who did my nails back in April) walked past and said “hello” in a super-friendly way. It didn’t even occur to me to ask for her when I booked the appointment this week. I am such a heel. I do the same thing with hair stylists, which is probably why I haven’t gotten my hair cut in a year. I really hate the last cut I got, but I don’t know where to go. So, if you’re in Chicago and love your hair stylist, please tell me who they are so I can throw myselves at their feet and emerge from their salon with a new haircut and product samples.

Later that night, I was waiting for the Milwaukee bus when I started talking to this tattooed rockabilly type at the bus stop. He had to clean out his duffle bag as the 40 oz. bottle of Budweiser he’d packed in there was leaking. He reeked of beer and I lied when he asked me if I thought so. We did the whole “So, what are you? Do you mind my asking?” routine before he started hitting on me. I refused his offer of renting movies to watch at his place, pleading a jealous boyfriend. When asked if I loved him, I said “Sure” in the tone of voice which would suggest that I probably just liked him a lot.

“So, you going to meet him at the club?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s not picking you up?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“I would have picked you up.”

“Gee, thanks!” I think to myself: Dude, you’re taking the bus. What would you pick me up in?

“Am I bothering you?”

“Oh no, I just don’t wanna be late is all.”

As you may have already figured out, I’m not used to guys talking to me, much less asking my ass out. Maybe he was just practicing? I mean, I was wearing makeup (products used are listed below) but I don’t think I looked any better or any worse than I do normally. I was wearing a tank top, khaki pants, and sneakers — no bag because I can’t dance properly when I have a purse slung over my shoulder. Whatever. Here’s to hoping that the next time somebody asks me out, he doesn’t reek of nasty beer or ask me to his house on our first date, okay?

The line at Rednofive stretched around the block. Kev and I were relieved to find a much much shorter “will call” line on Halsted and Hubbard. After Michael showed up to complete our little group, we were whisked into the club ahead of the suburbanite girls (bad spiral perms, tube tops, platform Steve Madden sandals), Trixies (blonde highlights, fabric flowers, halter tops), TrixHes* (black button down shirts and charcoal gray trousers — Banana Republic’s version of Prada), club kids (huge Mickey Mouse hands, glow sticks, flags, big pants), and the odd hippie (flip-flops, long skirts, frizzy hair).

We got in at 11:30, and Basement Jaxx didn’t start spinning until about 1:30 or so. In the two hours before they started their set, we drank, did some people-watching, and listened for good music. The music wasn’t great, but I did work it if only to keep my energy up. I dance okay — I used to dance much better, or at least I think I did back when I was in high school. But I realized that I wasn’t a better dancer — I just danced in a very slutty way. Though I do know how to do both the Running Man and the Roger Rabbit, and will do them on request if I’m really really drunk.

Basement Jaxx started and it was good for a while — it sounded really house-y to me, and they mixed a few of their new songs (“Just 1 Kiss”, “All I Know”, “Romeo”), old songs (“Rendezvous”), and classic shit (Chaka’s “Ain’t Nobody”). Then the music got kinda not-so-great, but they rallied before Michael went home at a bit before 3:00.

By this point, most of the crowd had left (all at 2:40 on the dot — the reasoning being that there must have been a train to the suburbs leaving Union Station pretty soon) so Kevin and I moved up to the dance floor. I’d been hemming and hawing about going home, but decided to stay because Kev was up for it. And we were not disappointed. Mixes of “Red Alert” and Jill Scott’s “He Loves Me (Lyzel in E Flat)” anchored what was some of the best house I’ve heard in some time. I’m sure most of y’all have heard better, but it sounded heavenly to me. It made up for the raver kids and their annoying flags, the tiny flat-assed girls who’d step on my toes with their stiletto heels, the bad dancing and the even worse hair. I danced hard. I went home a happy girl.

* TrixHe — a replacement for the word “TrixieMale”, the “perfect social accessory for the on-the-move woman who wants to have it all.”

Makeup I wore Thursday night for Rednofive:

  • MAC StudioFix foundation in shade C35
  • Stila stick concealer in shade “e”
  • Stila convertible color in Peony (b/c I couldn’t find my Nars blush in Orgasm)
  • Stila Picnic on The Beach eye shadow trio — shimmery nude shade all over, tangerine shade on lid, mango shade in crease and on outer lid
  • MAC eye shadow in some color, the name of which I don’t recall, on my eye brows
  • Kiehl’s lip balm no. 1 on lips
  • Benefit Benetint lip and cheek stain on lips

I’m going to be busy this weekend, so here’s to an action-packed flip front no. 94. Be advised that I’m probably going to have a small party/get-together for the flip front’s first birthday next Friday, July 20th. Convene at my house for pizza, then go out dancing? Hmm. Let me know if you have any ideas.

Also — flip front 100 (due early August) will be a special question and answer post. Basically, you ask me anything you’ve ever wanted to know about me, the flip front, my love life, whatever, and I answer. Like, what’s my favorite breakfast cereal? What do I like to put on my french fries? Why do I have a small yet entirely unnatural fear of elevators? So start sending in your questions now.

Extra Stuff That I Couldn’t Work In

Good anagrams for “Jasmine Davila”

  • I vandalise jam.
  • Alas! Divine jam!

A correction to the last flip front: When I said “Estonian states”, I meant “Baltic states”. Dang.

Cheers,
Jasmine

“un poison violent, c’est ca l’amour”
Serge Gainsbourg

playlist

Basement Jaxx – All I Know; Gorillaz – Rock The House; Deee-Lite – When You Told Me You Loved Me; Asian Dub Foundation – Naxalite (Main Mix)

links

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~ by Jasmine on July 13, 2001.

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