1. tonight's the big night! before heading out to your local grubby warehouse, you throw on:

your skimpiest boustier, fishnets, and a leather skirt.
I'm so hot it doesn't matter what I wear!
whatever's on top of the laundry pile. I think this is clean?
something comfortable. does it really matter what I'm wearing?
a tank top, cute pants, and CANDY!
something to impress the kiddies, I do have my image to keep up you know.
DOOODE!!! I like totally dont know what 2 wear!!!

2. great, you're out the door. on the way you're stopped at a red light and the car next to you is blasting a happy hardcore track. you:

start bouncing. "OMG! SO DOPE!"
say "um, I don't listen to this crap. I'm a singer."
flash your ass out the windows and spit beer at the car while driving away.
think "hey, didn't I booked this producer last year? I made him a star!
start having flashbacks to five years go when you were quite the kAnDeEkId.
roll up the window. we're all allowed our own musical taste!
space out on the beat and snap out of it ten minutes later still sitting at the light.

3. you get to the party and see the long line outside. the first thing you do is:

walk up to the door with your records in tow. you're on the lineup dammit.
say to the door dude "don't you know who the fuck I am?"
just walk in with your laminate... you've been here for eight hours already setting up.
flash your faboo smile and fake id, you're in with no problem.
say "hey isn't that paul oakenfold?! hey paul! remember when we had lunch last week?" and slide your way in.
attack the door person, rubbing your bare ass on them until them let you in.
wait patiently in line just like everyone else. you're just SOOOOO happy to be here!!!!!!!

4. you're in the door. the first thing you do is:

start popping pharms
find your groove and start movin
smack the closest hottie's ass
find the keg
find your runners to find out how much money you're made so far
where's the sfr meetup spot?! and where's that guy who's supposed to be wearing a pink fuzzy backpack?
blend into the wall and pretend you don't really exist (on this plane, at least)

5. Paul Oakenfold hits the decks. Your first reaction is to:

vomit uncontrollably
socialize with your friends. you've been to a thousand of these damn things anyways.
flail about until you nearly knock a candykid unconscious
at the end of every mix try to make conversation - "winter music conference last year, remember? I was wearing a blue shirt? you were having a salad?"
the music might not be your favorite, but you can appreciate a good dj. you decide to hang back and listen.
hide in the chill room, hoping paul doesn't confront you about the time you stiffed him when he played your last massive.
in your drunken haze, plug a mic in and try to flow over this year's hottest anthem.

6. after sweating it out in this sauna for hours, you need fluids. you:

hit the water bar and chat up eveyone in line.
try to grab a free water but the water staff calls security because they have no clue who you are
have your own private water stash behind the decks. you haven't stood in line at a water bar since 97.
who needs water when you're covered with other people's sweat?!
you're invisible to the naked eye, so you have the unique ability to sneak free water.
who's got my flask? -hiccup-
hit the keg

7. on the way to the water bar you pass the porta potties. they're disgusting, but you have to go. you:

feel repulsed. you'll hold it, thanks.
get lost inside for an hour and realize there are four others in there with you.
piss on the water bar
stand in line like a good raver and make it as quick as possible
say "hell no" and go in search on the space owner's bathroom.
wait in line because your imaginary friend needs to pee.
note that these are the same porta potties you left sitting in the homebase yard for weeks.

8. it's now seven hours into the party. you're:

hanging out with your signifigant other, a bit tired, but still having a good time.
sober, yet still somewhere in the stratosphere.
looking for something to keep your energy level up. E? redbull?
staggering around the decks trying to figure out which record box is yours. dammit! someone needs to smoke out the dj!
on your third unknown chemical
drooling on yourself in an e-pile with six people you don't know
sleeping under the decks

9. the lights flip on, and it's time to go. you:

pull your hands out of some girl's pants and look for your ride.
hit the bong
gather your runners and collect your cash
are the designated driver. you collect your friends and head out.
collect the business cards you've gathered from any attending music industry contacts and find the door
WOAH! LIGHTS! OMG!
confer with your totally innebriated signifigant other and roommate and decide what to do next.

10. there's an afterparty ten minutes away! you:

ask "will there be anybody famous there?"
think maybe next time, you're tired right now and your friends are ready to go home.
count how many pills you have left and make a decision
go wherever your ride goes. you'll probably stay passed out in their backseat anyways.
go where the chicks are.
have a bag of E and a nitrous tank at your house... that's all the afterparty you need.
wonder if your amazing looks and psychic abilities can get you a ride.