“No, we can’t let you in right now. Not until the firemen leave,” the security dude said.There were a bunch of fire trucks and some hunky firemen out in front of Cake Shop, so my friend Jennifer and I waited outside in the bracing cold chatting with some random revelers, awaiting our turn to have fun. It was the third year anniversary of Queers, Beers and Rears, the monthly homopunk party held in the basement of the funky Ludlow Street sweet shop and nightclub.

For the anniversary, the guest DJ was Lily of the Valley (AKA Michael Cavadias), who always plays a vibrant mix of house music and kick-ass rock numbers. Even better, the former model and sometimes actor also looked oh-so-beautiful behind the DJ booth. On stage were New York rock acts Big Gold Belt, Holy Hail and New York Press favorites Love or Perish, all adding grit that your average night at a Liza Minnelli lip-syncing drag show can lack.

“What I love about this party is it’s not one of those typical, dreary, gay boy things. They play my kind of music,” said the long, lean and bespectacled Taylor Derwin, 23, who attends frequently.There’s a band of regulars at the party, attracting queers both male and female—and all are friendly. About 10 different people came up to start a conversation with me, lucky since I couldn’t see my friends in the crowd. I was looking for performance artist cum go-go boy Max Steele, but someone told me “He’s having some dental issues tonight.”Whatever that means.

“Hey, let’s go to T Poutine for some fries ’n’ gravy,” Jennifer said. She’d earlier sampled some cheesecake at Cake Shop but was still hungry and it was already 4 a.m. As much as I adore queers, beers and rears—in no particular order, I might add—it was time for some carbs, cheese and grease.

Wanna know what will happen to you in 2010? No problem, I can tell you about it after attending astrologer Susan Miller’s all-day seminar “The Year Ahead 2010.” If you’re a Pisces or an Aries, you’re in luck, thanks to Jupiter being in your sign. (Pssssssst! Little secret: set your alarm for Feb. 28 as the most fantabulous 24 hours this year). Everyone will have some good days and some not so good, so listen up.

The event was held at The Three West Club, a fancy joint off Fifth Avenue. After being scared shitless by pictures of Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush hanging in every nook and cranny, I later discovered the building is also home to the Women’s National Republican Club I’ve been following Miller’s monthly horoscopes on astrologyzone.com since 1995 and over the years she’s become a huge industry, with books, calendars, phone apps and 18 million downloads of her forecasts every month. Her predictions are astonishingly accurate, and in the flesh she was proving her point with personal anecdotes, like the time when she left her laptop in a taxi, recovered thanks to Jupiter’s return.“You’re very intuitive. Any witches in your family?” asked the attractive blonde sitting next to me, a massage therapist at Bliss.

We were eating our vegetarian lunch, some puff pastry concoction with mushrooms.We all had nametags with our date-of-birth. “July 14,” she read. “You must love the water.”You skeptics can scoff, but it’s all true.

After listening to the usual long-winded questions from the star-struck, I finally shouted out, “Susan, you keep saying Cancers will find their true love but nothing happens. When?!” Of course, I never got the answer on that, though I did learn that 2010 will be great for my career. Big deal.

“Astrology is not fortunetelling. It’s about your personality and determination,” Miller told me. “You need to tell people what you want or you won’t get it.”

Saturday mornings for me always evoke cartoons, but last week I started my Saturday morning with Moaning. It’s not what you’re thinking; I’m talking about Jonté Moaning, the sprightly dancer, singer and personality. This dude is the real deal. Get this: His first big dancing gig was with Janet Jackson at the Super Bowl the time she showed her nipple. He’s appeared with Madonna and choreographed Beyoncé. And on this morning, he was coming to my health club to give me a private dance lesson.I’m not bad on the dance floor if you don’t mind a hot mess of crazy jumping, kicking and hair tossing. But would I be up for Jonté? “Bitch You Betta!” That’s the title of one of his best-loved videos. “He’ll be joined by his team, Creative Director Crayon Lee & Fashion Director Kooan,” read the email prepping me for him. Yikes! But it all worked out for the best.

“I’m not a morning person, either,” he confessed, airily arriving in a casual Michael Jackson look, with a military cap and jacket. So what’s his story? Unusually modest, he makes it sound easy. “I came to New York from Portland, Oregon, on August 11, 2001, a month before 9/11,” he said. Now he’s finishing up a new album and, like the Tom Waits song, he’s big in Japan. Speaking of cartoons, with his perfectly molded body and exotic glam, he’s as unreal as Gumby.

Of course, everyone in the health club was wondering what incredible pop star was in their midst. “So, how about the dance lesson,” Jonté prodded me. Uh oh. Moment of truth in front of the mirror. “Put your foot like that, your hands like that,” he demonstrated gracefully. I tried to follow the moves but kept going off on the wrong foot.

Any suggestions to improve? Crayon told me she’d get me a copy of his instructional video from his show at Santos Party House later that week. But Jonté had the answer. His eyes twinkling behind the aviator shades, he told me, “Just enjoy the ride and scream with me, ‘My pussy’s on fire!’”