Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Hobnobbing with celebrities and goggling what hobnobbing means.

So you guys know how I like to hang out at only the most exclusive clubs in New York that are known for their mystery, intrigue, and discretion, right? Wait, that doesn’t sound like me at all? You are correct. However, that was totally me last night because I was rubbing shoulders with the exclusive A-listers who haunt this club nightly. I mean, that’s just how I roll and quit looking at me like that, guys, it could totally happen.

But ok, to be fair, I didn’t actually rub shoulders with celebrities. But I absolutely sat in the same leather booths that I’m pretty sure, like, P. Diddy and George Clooney have sat in. And in my mind, that means that I’m now friends with the entire cast of Oceans 11 and finally George and I can realize the love that’s been there all along. I’m just guessing, here, but I’m pretty sure that’s what it means.

Also, apparently some big time PR person was in the mix, though when someone said to me “every remotely social person in this town knows her,” I just nodded and smiled and wondered if they could tell that I wasn’t remotely social. And that it’s possible that Beth and I may or may not have once hidden in the bushes in Central Park outside of Tavern on the Green during the red carpet event for Michael Jackson’s birthday party. For two hours. In the dark. Like homeless and/or crazy people.
"I'm a lawyer."

But whatever, we totally saw Michael Jackson and Liza Minnelli and Samuel L. Jackson and Starr Jones before she got skinny and kicked off of The View. It was awesome and we weren’t at all ashamed. Which, let’s get real, shouldn’t surprise any of you. 

Anyway, back to the party. It was an interesting mixture of people, many of whom I’d probably not run into at my local hangouts of CB’s apartment, my living room with my cat, or the Chipotle that just opened down the street. And when I walked in, I was pretty sure I was going to stick out like a sore thumb, stare at my phone a lot pretending to get texts from people who were just as remotely social as I, and hopefully be home in time to watch The Mindy Project. However, I was pleasantly surprised that pretty much everyone was incredibly warm and friendly.

I mean, there was definitely the guy who had a five minute conversation with me, shook my hand way too hard to the point that I thought I maybe let out a little yelp, and then winked at me and clicked his teeth as he walked away. I mean, yes, of course that guy was there.

But there were also just super normal, friendly, funny people who didn’t seem to notice or care that I spent less on my entire outfit than they had on the drink in their hand, and a few of them reminded me of people I actually would spend time with outside of pretend going-to-the-club-on-a-Tuesday-night world.

Also, while chatting with a guy about what we do for a living and other random stuff that you talk about when you don’t know someone at a dark club, I mentioned that I heard that there would be models coming later. He said “I heard that, too. I just assumed you were one of them.” To which I think I actually snorted from laughter and spilled my water on his shoes. And shockingly, he didn’t ask for my number.

But whatever, I’m totally a model and Giselle and I are so annoyed by how the Patriots never support her husband in crunch time and we talk about it all the time over fake-lunch.

So don’t be surprised if you see me in the society pages of the New York Times in the coming days, people. Also, bonus for the Times, they won’t even have to search around to find out who that new “it” girl is because they totally already have my info from that one time I photo-bombed the New York Times photographer's pictures while he was doing a somber photo story about Hoboken in the wake of Super Storm Sandy.

Keeping in classy.

Happy Wednesday! 


  1. I had dinner at a restaurant in Los Angeles one time, that my friend had specifically chosen because I told him I wanted to see famous people. He also told me that in the event we did see someone famous, I was not allowed to point, stare, comment loudly, or in any way embarrass him, or he'd leave me there and I'd have to find my own way back to my hotel. Anyway, the place was pretty empty until about halfway through our meal, when William H. Macy came in with some people and sat at the table behind us (so I had to keep craning my neck to see him, which caused my friend to remind me of the ”rules” about no staring.) This was about 15 years ago, and I still refer to it as ”the time William H. Macy and I had dinner together.”

    1. I'm so jealous that you and William H. Macy are best friends!

  2. Hahah I would totally snort and spill water on someone's shoes if someone said they thought I was a model too.

    I met that guy Duff from Ace of Cakes at the gym once. And shook his hand. While I was really sweaty and gross. He didn't ask for my number either....weird.

    1. It boggles the mind, doesn't it? Why wouldn't guys want us after we're obviously so desirable?

  3. I spent an evening partying with Bon Jovi and Daughtry if you count the night my fellow diehard BJ fans and I stalked an after concert/end of tour event at the Hard Rock Cafe in Atlanta. We even got to hear David Bryan and Chris Daughtry sing karaoke "Wanted Dead or Alive". It was an awesome night!

    1. I'm so glad that I'm not the only one who does crazy stuff like that! Er, I mean "perfectly normal stuff."

  4. Excellent Blog....very impressive posts! Made me laugh out loud over and over!


    All the best,


    1. Oh thanks!! So glad you liked it (and it made you laugh!)

      And thanks for stopping by! Hope to see you again in these parts. :-)