
Something I’m very excited (and very nervous) about: I’ll be appearing at this month’s How I Learned Series, which is happening this Wednesday, August 24, at 8pm — at Happy Ending bar! I’m honored to be part of this lineup:
OPHIRA EISENBERG
(The Moth)
CONNOR GAUDET
(Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood)
BRIAN GROSZ
(Lapdance Academy)
CATIE LAZARUS
(Employee of the Month)
D.E. RASSO
(Love is a Four-Letter Word)
Created, Produced + Hosted by
BLAISE ALLYSEN KEARSLEY
It’s free, did I mention that? Please attend! I’m bringing a copy of the first book I ever wrote. It’s laminated.
For reasons that are neither interesting nor important, I attended Betty White’s 89th birthday last night. It was held at Le Cirque, which surprised me, as I didn’t know it still existed.
There was a lot of food and, unlike the open bar events I’ve grown accustomed to attending, I didn’t have to elbow anyone out of the way just to get a tepid glass of “Champagne” that’s actually just a sparkling brut (what? I shouldn’t know the difference just because I’m some self-styled lumpenprole?). Nope, last night it was Champagne all the way, chilled and easy to get to, presumably because everyone in the room was from Hollywood and, as such, in recovery.
When we arrived, we found a table in the middle of the room and looked around in search of famous people. The only person I saw was Frank Whaley, who was standing over by the “risotto station.” (Disappointed that it wasn’t a “risotto fountain,” because that would be even more appallingly awesome than this.) One of my companions squealed in delight and said, “Swing Kids is my favorite movie!”
“You should go tell him that,” I said. “He looks a bit lonely.”
We drank some more, looked around some more, ate miniature crabcakes and some “sliders” that were a little too large to be rightfully considered finger food.
“Where are all the celebrities at?” the Whaley fan companion wondered. “I’m not even seeing any D-listers.”
You know that saying in poker about how if you don’t see the mark at the table, you’re the mark? I had a sudden realization.
“Man, we’re the fucking D-list. This whole room is D-list. Not even D-list! Z-list! There’s gotta be some other, better, VIP room that we’re not allowed in.”
But what can you do? And it’s true, we were Z-list. But we did get cake pretty soon after that. A little while later, Ana Gasteyer walked by. And so did that comedian with the hat and glasses thing. (Apparently Jack McBrayer was there, too?) His trucker cap was bedazzled in Braille. “I wonder what that says,” my other companion said, not really all that curious.
“Probably it says WHAT ARE YOU, BLIND? I’ll go over and ask. He’s not talking to anyone or anything, just eating something from the grilled vegetable station.”
So I went over and was like, “Sorry to bother you while you’re eating, but what does your hat say?”
And he was nice about it — “It says [something about strength or power; unsurprisingly I was not paying attention].”
And then they brought him two pieces of cake. “They hooked me up! This is good cake,” he said, eating it with the gusto of someone who really likes cake.
“It is really good, but the fondant frosting is a bit overwhelming.”
“Which is that?”
“The stuff that’s in a right angle on your plate.”
“Huh, what’s it made out of?”
“Sugar. And tile caulk.”
“Yeah, bad stuff.” He was humoring me at this point. “So what do you do?”
“Nothing related to any of this.”
“That’s cool.”
“Hey, do you know if there’s like a VIP room somewhere?”
“Nah dude, this is it.”
“I was just wondering.”
“I’m gonna go get a drink.”
“Try the risotto station while you’re over there.”
“Will do.”
As you can see, there were a number of other celebrities there. We didn’t see any of them. But my companions got hugs from Betty White. So that was nice. Also, Wendy Malick looks really good.
If you’ll recall, yesterday’s weather was fairly yucky. I would’ve preferred to show up to the party in hip waders, but instead I wore a subdued and black and gray ensemble that lacked sophistication but made up for it by its absence of grease stains. I changed out of my Doc Martens into a fancy pair of heels, though honestly, what does it really matter if you’re on the Z-list?
Speaking of fancy shoes, femininity, and other things that elude me, Lauren and I had a conversation about her Roger Vivier Pilgrim pumps, made famous by Belle de Jour and Ava Gardner. “I love them. They’re classic,” she told me. “Even though they’re so delicate, they’re still perfect for this time of year.”
“Yeah, because they’re small and you can carry them in your purse and put them on once you get to where you’re going.”
“No, I meant that they’re perfect in that you can get a man to carry you over the ice puddles.”
My friend Tom has waaaay better dreams than I have. (In the past week, mine have included watching a leak in the bathroom creating a yawning, black hole in the floor and a trip to the laundromat.) In an email he sent today:
This morning I had a long anxiety dream that took place in a Mexican desert. I was trying to create several logos out of a large open field (I have a big deadline today). Suddenly, out of nowhere, you appeared and we had the following conversation:
D: Can you do me a favor?
T: Sure.
D: Do you think you could get me an Italian wedding cake that’s wired with explosives?
T: …Yeah, I can do that. Do you want enough explosives to kill everyone, or are you just trying to scare them?
D: What do you think?
And then you left. I was trying to figure out what an Italian wedding cake was, since I would have guessed that’s what you call a cake that’s wired with explosives.
Speaking of which, I don’t think I’ve mentioned this already, but in doing genealogical research on my father’s father’s family, I’ve discovered that there is an ‘ndrangheta ‘ndrina in Cittanova with our (original, unaltered) surname. In fact, one of the heads had the same name as my grandfather. (Or had, until he was assassinated — the ‘ndrangheta one, not the Hollywood, Florida, one.) If my great uncle hadn’t added that extra, superfluous S to our surname, I’d be apprehensive about visiting Calabria. Who knows what grudges those people still harbor.
Oh wait, I just remembered: I’m still apprehensive about visiting Calabria, because it’s the fucking armpit of Italy.
I love this ghost story about the Gray Man at the Chelsea Hotel. Excerpt:
I hadn’t heard anything outside of the traffic down on 23rd Street and the occasional jet engine, and when I asked her what it was she said “I keep hearing a man’s voice saying ‘jump, go on jump. You’ll be fine, just go ahead and jump” and explained to me that a bizarre and inexplicable urge to jump off the roof of the Chelsea Hotel had entered her mind and would not be shaken. She asked that we move away from the edge of the roof where we had been perched, which is when we saw it.
A few yards away, half obscured by a chimney stack was the darkened silhouette of a man, watching us from an inkwell of a corner. It could have been my eyes playing tricks on my mind and I tried to convince myself this was the case. That is up until it moved, stepping back into the darkness behind it.
I can’t help it; I believe in ghosts. Yes, I’m an avowed atheist. I realize this is the dumbest thing (among the many other dumb things) I’ve admitted on this blog, but I believe in…something. My feeble rationale is that there must be some kind of…residual…um…energy? Like static electricity perhaps?
I once argued about it for three hours with my boyfriend at the time. I think I watched too much In Search Of as a kid.
Where did she go?
I am lazy. If you're bored, go visit my tumblr, updated daily with other people's witticisms and erudition.Also by me
Archives
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- July 2006
- June 2006
- May 2006
- April 2006
- March 2006
- February 2006
- December 2005
- October 2005
- July 2005
- June 2005
- May 2005
- October 2004
- May 2004
- April 2004
- March 2004
- February 2004
- October 2003
- September 2003
- July 2003
- June 2003
- May 2003
- April 2003
- March 2003
- January 2003
- December 2002
- November 2002
- October 2002
- September 2002
- August 2002