Being a partier used to be as simple as throwing on a clean tee and getting out the door. Now, it's work. The Jane was once our last great hope; it's now all but shuttered. Just when we feel we've found our new home, a place where -- if not everyone knows our name, at least they know our label -- it loses its license, lease, or cool. If we were lazy, we'd advise you to try the Boom Boom Room every single night of the week, but if on top of the world isn't really your scene, here's what's been moving and shaking amongst the movers and shakers this week. We'll be trying them out one by one, consumed with the determination to find our Beatrice Inn incarnate.

“I’m in da toilet! Call me back in five?” A clicking sound signals the end of my call to Ari Up of the Slits. Three decades after forming the all-female punk- and reggae-infused band at the age of 14, she hasn’t smoothed any of her charming rough edges. When the Slits released their debut album Cut in 1976, they plotted the downfall of the Queen with the Sex Pistols and their rowdy cohorts. They inspired everyone from Boy George to Cher. When they first started getting radio play, hosts refused to utter the band’s name. Still, the Slits’ recognition and legacy has been minimal at best. After disbanding in the 1980s, Ari moved to Borneo where she lived with a local tribe. She later relocated to Kingston, Jamaica, where she has become a dreadlocked dancehall legend known as Medusa. Here, the outsider’s outsider discusses her decision to re-form the Slits and release this month’s Trapped Animal, while considering her deadly Jamaican routine, and why Madonna and Lady Gaga owe her big.

Columbus Day creates a sort of/almost three-day weekend and a Sunday night where more people are out than usual. I received more calls last night from people ‘looking for a good time’ than my self-soliciting ex-girlfriend did on a weekend night. I didn’t really have answers for these party-seekers. I offered up Cielo and Vandam at Greenhouse, but for some…not their scene. I rattled off the usual places, but few of my suggestions were well-received. Sundays at GoldBar are good (to dot all my i’s) but some members of my crowd are less visually stimulating than some doors allow, so, I didn’t send them to see Jon Lennon. I sent a couple friends to the 5th Anniversary of Pink Elephant the other night, and they brought in a third wheel of misfortune. The door correctly taxed the crew, and I called to apologize. The same thing happened over at Simyone where a gal pal who isn’t hard to look at brought a couple of friends who were 4 or 5 sheets to the wind and, of course, not door-worthy. So…don't call me for guest list help for a couple weeks, children.

Just heard a very realistic rumor that East Village hipster standby The Annex has been sold and will become, of all things, a sports bar. In honor of the decline of yet another club kid landmark, the infamous electro-nu-rave Ruff Club party will be throwing a final hurrah for the sweat den it made popular on September 11, bringing out some underground all-stars: the Misshapes, Spencer Product, and the Ruff Kids. Another fond farewell to a Friday night hotspot that many called home.

An immensely talented actor, 34-year-old Hugh Dancy has tackled many tough roles: an amoral hedonist in Savage Grace, a troubled alcoholic in Evening and a teacher immersed in the 1994 Rwandan genocide in 2005’s award-winning drama Beyond the Gates. But to most American audiences, he’s best known for his wildly charming parts in lighter fare such as Confessions of a Shopaholic and Ella Enchanted. All that’s about to change, however, with the release of Adam, a thoughtful, heartfelt story about a young man with Asperger Syndrome looking to confront the death of his parents and the odd sensation of love. Here, Dancy -- profiled and photographed as various iconic rebels in BlackBook’s August issue -- discusses his new film, his fall engagement to actress Claire Danes and the best place in New York to find a good pint of stout. Plus, see a full gallery of behind-the-scenes pics from his photo shoot.

Here at BlackBook, we pay a lot of attention to where cool customers go out -- bars, clubs, restaurants, shops, hotels, you name it. So why not flip the frame and let you see where we go out? Here's a periodically updated, exhaustive list of hotspots currently favored by everyone at BlackBook, from the mighty bosses down to the humble interns, from the charming local lounges around the corner to the jet-setting temples of luxe living.

EDITORIAL
● Editorial Director/Editor-in-Chief - Ray Rogers, Café Mogador (NYC) - Hummus, crack-caliber coffee, and outdoor patio for primo people-judging and "novel writing."
● Creative Director - Jason Daniels, Babettes (East Hampton) - Don’t let the word “organic” turn you off .
● Executive Editor - Chris Mohney, Pegu Club (NYC) - OCD cocktail heaven. Pith helmet and ivory cane optional.
● Senior Editor - Nick Haramis, The Jane Hotel and Ballroom (NYC) - Latest smash from Sean MacPherson and Eric Goode gets all Edwardian on the WVill.

Harley Viera-Newton and Cassie Coane have been deemed New York nightlife "It" girls more than they care to get into. Both NYU students, originally from Los Angeles, they've somewhat surprisingly secured nights at the hottest, hipster-esque venues in town. They started DJing as a side gig at recently-shuttered Beatrice Inn, which led to nights at Lit Lounge and Avenue in addition to working private events. The longtime best friends are known for their absolutely comical bickering, and have an East Village Radio show, Teenage Kicks -- where they dispute freely and jam out to obscure punk. BlackBook talks to the sensible nightlife duo about the balance of being successful girl DJ's and having a damn good time while doin' it.

Nick Mathers’ lounge Baddies, under Kingswood, is a step up from his ultra-small restaurant Ruby’s. I live in Nolita, surrounded by some pretty great places to catch a meal. Ruby’s is one of those joints that keeps me coming. In the winter it’s often so cold you have to wear your coat and sit by the pipe. I’ve seen my breath more than a few times. Yet there’s something about the place that makes me endure and indeed celebrate its smallness. Ruby's seats about 25 people, and that’s practically sitting on your neighbor's lap. Neighbor is the key word; you're made to feel like you belong, that it’s your neighbors and friends that you're eating with. Celebrities are a regular sight. I go for the best burger in town, the Whaley’s, or maybe the pasta or pear and walnut salad. I don’t’ think I've tried anything else, and I've been there a hundred times. Baddies and Kingswood bring that same casual friendliness. Everyone in town awaits the return of Beatrice and every hipster joint is declared its heir apparent. Baddies will do until the return of the baddest boy in town, my dear friend Paul Sevigny. Until then I'll be hanging with Nick Mathers and his mates.

I did the door at the Dos Equis/?uestlove/Mirrorball event last night down on Broad Street in the Financial District. Broad Street proved to be not broad enough, as an army of hipsters, dipsters, scenesters, and clubsters filled the famous lane and spilled into neighboring streets. The actual event space was filled to capacity by 10:30p.m., a half hour after doors opened to the masses. If the "Most Interesting Man in the World" indeed showed up, he didn't get close to the place. For me it was all crowd control while security guards and New York's finest and bravest cleared the legions from the street and eventually the space, which included a huge bank and the prestigious Claremont Preparatory School. Nobody seemed to be prepared for the turnout. I screamed at friends Amy Gunther and 1Oak's Adam Alpert, who got close but no cigar to getting in. Adam took my intern and her friends to 1Oak for a good time instead.

The magnificent Mark Baker along with BlackBook, Vans and C.i.5. hosted the opening of skateboard god Steve Olson’s art exhibition. The show, “Black Honky,” was held at Collective Hardware, a space that is often confused as something other than what it is as it develops its own identity. The one thing we are sure of and that they, the Collective can't emphasize enough is that it is not a club. Collective Hardware is an events space on two floors and includes an in-house art gallery.