radiopeter

Check this site out if you have a Mororola Razr. You can play a Demo of The Legend of Zelda on your phone.

This evening is the Glamorama event. I’m a hot mess today because I can’t keep my thoughts together. I woke up at 5am and began to stress about my outfit. Then I stressed about my hair. Then I stressed about producing the WCQ show, which I did in under an hour, which was a first. Then I realized the exact pair of socks I wanted to wear were still in the hamper, so I proceeded to wash a few things and stressed about that.

By the time I left the house I had calmed down to a nervous state of excitement. And so far all day I’ve been jittery in a good way.

Until right now. I’m crying (just a tiny bit) because I’ve just watched three different performances of Jennifer Holliday singing “And I’m Telling You”.

I tend to forget how much I love that song.

I can’t imagine what it must have been like to perform it so many times. The emotional rush I’m getting from just a few listens is almost more than I can handle. It is no surprise that she swept the awards shows in 1982 and won them all.

So tonight. Glamorama.

Can’t wait!

I’m not a DJ because I want to be famous.
I’m not a DJ because I want to be rich.
I’m not a DJ because I want to pay my bills.
I’m not a DJ because I want the attention.

I’m a DJ because I love the music and the dancers.

Because I’m a DJ, it doesn’t make me better than you.
It doesn’t make me smarter than you.
It doesn’t make me more talented than you.
It doesn’t mean I have a ton of famous friends.

I’m a DJ because I was in the right place at the right time. Twice.

When I’m not a DJ I’m a regular guy.
When I’m not a DJ I eat. Sometimes too much.
When I’m not a DJ I sleep. Sometimes not enough.
When I’m not a DJ I have fun. And laugh. And cry. And experience life.

I’m a DJ because I get to share a few hours with strangers.

I stand in a booth and play music I love.
I stand in a booth and play music you love.
I stand in a booth and play music we enjoy together.
I stand in a booth and play music. And have fun. And laugh. And cry. And experience life.

You are a DJ too.

You choose how you want to dance.
You choose what you want to feel.
You choose the next song around every corner.
You choose how you have fun. And laugh. And cry. And experience life.

Because my work is so fabulously fabulous at times, and because I work with such wonderfully brilliant people, most specifically Amy Matheny, I’ve had the good fortune to receive a pair of tickets to Glamorama ‘06.

I’m melting.

Literally melting.

What TF am I going to wear?

…Sunday night at the Green Mill

…incredible performance by The Kimberly Gordon Organ Trio (Kim & Co. you fill me up)

…fun evening with him; wish it could have lasted longer

…reminder of how music can make it all better if you listen close

…wash of bittersweet feelings; heavy on the sweet, light on the bitter

…set of reminders that I’m happy to know who I know, and be who I am

A recap of the first two hours of America’s Next Top Model Cycle 7, plus some political banter. Some things aren’t really news. Don’t trust any news source. Take it all with a grain of salt people.

I woke up this morning on my side in bed, wrapped in a blanket, with Oberon lying against my stomach and Meo curled up behind my knees. As I rolled over, Meo made his way up to my chest and rested his chin on his paws and looked up at me. He yawned and then closed his eyes.

I really love these little creatures. They’re such an integrated part of my daily routine, I can’t imagine life without either of them.

When I finally managed to get out of bed, Meo trotted with me to the bathroom and did his business while I did mine. Lazy Obi decided he was going to find the warm spot under the covers and didn’t get up with us. Even as I was showering and changing, he didn’t leave the bed. But as soon as he heard me pouring dry food into their dish, he was in the kitchen, eyes half open, yawning, meowing, and trying to shake the sleep out of his head.

They’re like people. Little bossy people. Two wrinkly people who aren’t content unless they’re in my lap, on my shoulder, or curled up next to me. At any given moment with the exception of these colder mornings, potty time, or when they’re eating, they are never more than five feet away.

Ever.

There is always a Sphynx in the room except when I’m recording for the Queercast. Only then do I close the big dividing door in my place and leave them to govern half of the apartment. As many of you know, they are always milling about during the Radiopeter recording.

They are 100% pure love.

I don’t know why I missed this, but this is truly the perfect song right now. It couldn’t be any closer to the soundtrack of my life.

“How Does It Feel” by Anita Baker

changed all my plans
look what you’ve done
my house is small
and there’s only room for one
I know this game
darling I don’t want to play
why can’t I just walk away

who’s got the time
I need my space
maybe someday
in another time and place
just turn around
I don’t need this
not right now
but I’m galling anyhow

how does it feel?
and it feels so fine
how do you know?
feel something deep inside
what do you see?
I see the light in his eyes
and I know it’s clear
nobody gotta tell me so

see hearts never lie
the truth is a sigh
I look in his eyes
and I’m on fire
logic prevail
I don’t believe in fairytales
but now lately I find I’m
waiting by the phone
and I don’t want to be alone
feelings won’t fade
but I’m falling deeper everyday

how does it feel?
and it feels so fine
how do you know?
feel something deep inside
what do you see?
I see the light in his eyes
and I know it’s clear
nobody gotta tell me so

ain’t nobody got to tell me so
I know what I know
ain’t nobody got to tell me so

I give up
I give in
touch your body
taste your skin
the answer is the same
again and again

My D70 is back from the shop. I had to play around a bit.

Me

Obi

Meo

This morning I had a photo shoot with my orthodontist. She took stills of my face, profile, and tons of fun stuffs in my mouth. There were mirrors, stretching things, and a ring flash the size of Mt. Rushmore in my word hole.

After the photo fun was over, she made a bite impression, an upper, and lower impression of my teeth. It was really quick and easy, far easier than I remember when I’d previously had impressions. Right now, as I’m typing this, the purple replicas of my mouth are being whisked off to the Align company to scan into their systems and make the computer animation that will show how my teeth will move during the next year.

Step one is done. Now all I do is wait for a phone call from the doctor’s office. Step two is the consultation, where we review the animation and talk about the length of treatment and stuff. I’m not sure when it all begins, but I’m anxious to get it started. By this time next year, I should have purrrfectly aligned lower teeth.

Yay.

I’ve received numerous e-mails over the last couple weeks since I write an essay on Willi Ninja in Nightspots. I’m amazed at how widespread his touch was on our community. Amazed and sad at the same time. We lost a good one with his passing. Here, for those of you who don’t regularly get to read my column, is what I wrote.

Willi Ninja, a legendary figure in our community, and forever immortalized on screen in the film Paris Is Burning has passed away. I never knew him personally, but he was one of those voices in the chorus of my coming-out process that told me it was okay to be who I was; it was okay to want to express myself; it was okay to be queer.

In 1990 I started attending high school at Whitney Young ( get ) High School here in Chicago. It was a time when the word “gay” was beginning to emerge in more conversations on television and in film than ever before. The seeds planted by the queer community in the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s were finally starting to take root. Much of my memories before 1990 are in black and white. From 1990 on, they’re in crisp color.

Being born and raised in a big city with a thriving queer community has its advantages. I was doubly blessed because I was attending a school with students educated enough not to feel the need to beat the snot out of the “faggot” at school.

I hung out at cafés where other queer folks congregated. There was this place called Scenes right near Belmont & Clark where I used to drink coffee and smoke cloves. It was Bohemian, it was queer, and it was a taste of the life I wanted. I wasn’t formally out yet.

A friend that I knew through the café circuit ( which is what we used to call all the queer non-bar spots ) told me about a movie that was playing about drag queens in New York. It must have been at the Music Box or something. I managed somehow to stay out late enough one night to go see it alone. It was called Paris Is Burning.

And there, before me, on screen, were some of the biggest, gayest, most flaming homosexuals I’d ever laid eyes on. From butch to fem, these boys and girls were so over the top and so comfortable in their lifestyle that I was instantly envious. It was also the first time I’d seen anyone vogue. And I’m not talking about Madonna’s Vogue.

Willi Ninja, whom many ( including myself ) call the “Godfather of Vogue” was dancing across the screen in ways I’d never seen before, but with which I instantly fell in love. He was such a free spirit with his movement. His message, THE message, was right there for me: Be who you are and you will be free. Leaving the theater that night, I decided it was time to come out.

Paris Is Burning changed my life. Willi Ninja changed my life. The producers, director, and entire cast of the film changed my life. I owe every bit of self-confidence I have to seeing those powerfully proud images on the screen. They were people comfortable in their own skin, happy to be alive, and thriving in the world. It didn’t matter that they were queer. They were free.

With you in 4/4,
Peter Mavrik

I’m going to start posting some of my favorite pictures from my Japan trip. I’ve been slowly uploading them (the trip was in March 2005!) onto my Flickr site since I purchased a pro account.

I’ve been dozing on the couch with the cats all day. Just when we were all set to get our day started, the rain came along and has sent us all back into the realm of sleepytime.

I just want to sleep all day. Somehow it’s numbing. When I’m asleep, I don’t have to think.

In just a few more hours I’m heading to the Green Mill. Can’t wait for the music.

I’m a little afraid to write today. Maybe I’ve been sharing too much, or maybe I haven’t shared enough. I don’t know.

Restless. That’s what I’m feeling. Restless, despite how much sleep I’ve had.

However this weekend turns out, I MUST go to the Green Mill to hear the organ trio.

The music will do me some good.

it’s full these days
my mind

it’s full of images
touches
smells
senses of him

so full and so empty

I keep trying not to think about it
about him
but it’s useless

someone on the train smelled like him
it caused a lump in my throat
and this feeling of longing

is it ok to wish this wasn’t happening
or should I be celebrating
the fact that I can still feel

I don’t know

all I want to do
is curl up with him
and talk about life
and ease the pain
and make new memories

we’re in the same universe
but
right now
on such different planets

maybe
someday
they’ll align