I love my friend Carlos who drags me from one random LA event to the next and if it weren't for him, I would probably become a recluse. Thursday night as I'm driving home, he calls me to go out for a drink, unwind, and just shake off the work day stress. But hanging out with him means I don't leave until after 10 and with the rain that day, I really didn't feel like it. "Come on, there'll be some cool DJs and just stay for one drink. I RSVP'd and can bring in two people for free, you and Phuong." Ugh ugh ugh. Guilt. "Ohhhhhh-kay. I'm just staying for a bit."
Hours later and we don't leave until 2am.
I hate you Diplo.
And by that, I mean, I love you so much I want to kidnap you so you can spin for me on the drop of a hat. Diplo is a DJ god and people can write off spinning as slipping one record on after another but that just means they've never been privy to such a good set. How good? I was ready to blow the place around 1am, jacket on, bag slung over one shoulder when that sweet note of a song came and I stayed rooted and dance till lights out. Then woke up for work 3 hour later. Hate you Diplo that I would do it all over again.
Oh, bought the Coachella tickets. Desert dance party is officially on now. Countdown, please. In the meanwhile, I'm applying for a semi-new job, very convinced that Fleet Foxes is this year's Bon Iver, and speed reading at a book a night. So far, I'm 3 for 4 nights. Not too shabby.
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