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Holy ridiculous motherfucking fuck. I found out Thursday afternoon that the Kater Holzig was opening again. I was torn between wanting to be there on the very first day and knowing i should probably be professional at work seeing as i just got a promotion on Monday. Wanting to be there won out. That nightclub is one of the main reasons i moved to Berlin in the first place, and although i only experienced 3 short months there, they were 3 of the most magical and amazing of my life. Since then i've flitted around a few other places, and i found my new home in the Bucht, but the excitement at finding out Kater was back... I had butterflies and was hyperventilating like a kid before Christmas. I can't even. That place meant so much to me.

And then i didn't get in. I went with C and as soon as we rolled up we were turned away. This weekend was the soft opening. Nothing advertized publicly, and sure enough Thursday was family only. So C and i had a few beers at what turned out to be the very first bar i visited in Berlin, next door to Tresor, and then i headed home. Friday night i went out to the kneipe, played some darts, had a very drunk Skype date with R, and then hid for most of Saturday. Sunday afternoon i headed out to the Bucht for their 3-year birthday. It was, of course, fabulous, right up until a duo came on who played hours of that predictable boom-chik tech house that makes me realize you can be sipping Cuba Libres at the second best club in Berlin but if the music doesn't work for you, the whole thing doesn't. In a fit of randomness, at around 9pm i decided to go to the Holzmarkt, where there was a publicized open air (running till 10pm) and of course right next door the non-publicized second soft opening of Kater.

After the (much better) music stopped, i sat on the bank of the Spree and looked over to the old Kater and tears welled up. I never really said goodbye. I flew out of there right after New Year's, and only went back to the Kiosk once or twice after the main club's hatches were battoned. For abour an hour i sipped champagne and smoked cigarettes and cried, then started heading home. Not by accident passing the door of the new Kater on the way. There was a ridiculous line-up, but i gave it a shot, and this time round got in. Not after a little drama with the bouncer, who (after i had been waved in by one of the girls i know from there) pushed me aside and said "sorry homeboy, du muss in die andere richtung gehen". I was agape, not so much because he didn't let me in, but because he treated me like some smartass gangster trying his luck. Fortunately S came to my rescue and apologized for the mystery bouncer's comment. Being an odd-looking trannie works in your favor when it comes to getting into Berlin nightclubs.

And it was all different, but the same as it ever was. The decor is very sparse, though perhaps that's because they're still building it. But the people were there. Jeder war da. All the guys i've run into individually at the Renate or the Bucht, but haven't seen all in a room together since the Bachstelzen party at the old Stasi HQ in January. All night there were nods and smiles and hugs, all those people i barely know the names of but shared the dancefloor and couches and bathroom stalls with almost every weekend at the end of last year. It was like coming home. Bumped into some of the DJs who played Klangextase, but now able to play their sets slow and quirky and without having to water it down. Met some new people, got very wasted, somehow ended up going through 3 packs of cigarettes, spent all my money down to the last bill, and didn't arrive home till sometime Tuesday morning. I completely lost a day. Well, i didn't lose it. I was lying in the sun and paddling in the Spree and dancing to wonderful music and laughing with new friends and smiling at old ones. It was perfect.

Today most assuredly was not. On next to no sleep i rolled into work feeling like a beady-eyed mouse in a box. It didn't help that today was swelteringly hot, and i could barely string a thought together between the sweat and exhaustion. Not fun. Totally worth it, but very not fun. Fortunately i am home now so can finally eat and sleep and do all those responsible things i should have done Monday afternoon, but no doubt tomorrow the misery will continue. Oh well, fuck it. It's not an everyday thing, and this was a special occasion. I am going to crawl into bed and watch Project Runway now.

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