Daily Aggravations and Regrets

 September 13, 2000 
Wednesday

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Southpole
Mail G-Rock
 

 
    Just got back from the "swanky" party. I'm in the process of cooking myself something hot and salty. I'm not sure what yet, but water is on the boil. So we'll see what comes up. 

     I've eaten now.  It was chicken-flavored noodles.

     Anyhow, I suppose I'll write about the party, then go to bed.  I know  I won't have time to write about it tomorrow, because I have all sorts of shit to do for Friday, and it might not all get done anyway.

     So it was sort of a working night.  I had to get there early and help a little bit here and there setting up, putting tons of  magazines out everywhere, etc.  Then I sat around for a while, had a few vodka tonics, talked with some of the other interns, felt old, and checked out the scene.  Among those on the guest list were James Gandolfini and Tony Sirico from the Sopranos, a few members of Limp Bizkit, and various media people.  The only famous person reported to be there was Wyclef Jean of the Fugees.  I didn't actually see him.  But I was told he was there. 

     After an hour of sitting around, i felt sort of guilty, even though I wasn't being paid to be there, so I wandered outside.  After two minutes of standing there, James, Jed, and two guys from James' work showed up.  The line for the party was all the way around the block, so they got to feel all cool when one of the magazine people moved the ropes to let them in without the wait.  And I felt kinda cool for hooking them up.  So then I went inside for a while, had a few more drinks, and scoped the scene some more. It was pretty crowded.  The club was fairly small for such a large gathering.  All the beautiful people were out.  Lots of waifish models, gay guys, big fake boobs, etc.  But it was sort of cool.  I had to wear a t-shirt with the magazine's name on it, which at first made me feel like a big boob, but in the end it helped me avoid a lot of fucking hassles.  I probably didn't spend that much time working, really, maybe 40 minutes working the front, checking to see who was on the list. It was definitely an interesting experience.  I got to be that guy, that guy at the club who decides whether or not you're getting into the party.  Sort of. I mean, everybody got in who showed up. But they didn't know that, and some weren't too sure.  So that was sort of fun to watch. 
     While I was working the front, PFC Kathy showed up, followed shortly by Caryn and a friend from Entertainment Weekly.  After that, I ditched the working stuff as soon as I saw another person working there.  And moments after I found our little booth in the back, Jen showed up as well.  So almost all my friends in NY, an open bar, a festive atmosphere, and some satisfaction from being somehow connected to all that was going on, made for a pretty good time.  It was just the sort of place that I never go, or would ever choose to go to.  Which made it all the more interesting. Just a different sort of people.  Not necessarily good, but interesting.  I don't really like club music, but I was sort of digging it anyway. It suited the place.  Just a completely different experience.   My first "industry" party.  Not bad.  It wasn't really what I might call super, but definitely noteworthy. 

     Around 11, everybody wanted to go home, so we got up and I changed out of my shirt, and we walked out.  When we got out, Jen seemed sort of pissed that we all were leaving, because she came all the way down and was only there for less than two hours.  So I told her I'd stay with her, since I was in no particular rush to get anywhere.  When I tried to go back in, I was stopped by some dude asking me if I had a ticket. I tried to explain that I'd just left, and that I worked for the company throwing the party, but of course he had to cop a big 'tude.  The shirt!  I left it in my bag, and gave it to Jed to take home.  I walked by the same guy earlier, and he stopped me, then saw the shirt and let me by.  So I had to get somebody from work to get us back in.  Once back in, it was disappointind to find out that they were now charging for drinks.  16 bucks for two glorified dixie cups of rum and coke.  So that sucked.  But Jen wanted to stay, so I was happy to buy the drinks.  She was hoping to meet a man amongst the "so many hot guys" in the club.  But we left about an hour later. She said her biggest disappointment was that she "wasted a good outfit on nothing." I could certainly relate.  When you don't have a huge wardrobe, every day counts.  Anyway, i knew what she was talking about.

     So after that, we still didn't really want to go home, so we walked across the street to Union Square Park.  There are basically two types of people there at around midnight.  Couples in love, and homeless people. Sort of a weird mix.  I thought that maybe each couple should pick and "sponsor" a homeless person. The selection process is what intrigued me the most. Kind of like in grade school.  "Who doesn't have a partner? Raise your hand!"  you know the drill.  So to get in the spirit of things, we sat down on a bench and made out for a while.  Her breath kind of stank, but whatever, we're young, were sort of drunk, and it was a nice, cool New York evening.  And you know, being New York and all, you can get away with a lot more in public than you can anywhere else. Nothing like a little public semi-nudity, you know. 

     I'm totally kidding.  About the making out part.  the rest is true.  Except the semi-nudity.  But it was a nice night anyway.  Just thought the old journal could use a little more pizzaz.  But it was kind of scandalous, wasn't it. Oh, and I can't really speak for the quality of her breath, either. But if anyone would like to get a first-person account, email me and we'll work something out. 

     In the park, some guy wearing a shirt that said "stond" stopped me and asked me if I could be any animal, what would I be.  Boy, did he get more than he bargained for.  I talked his fucking ear off. First I said a moose, which was the first thing that popped into my mind.  Then all sorts of shit.  Like could i be a magical or mythical creature, like a unicorn or phoenix or an eskimo? I finally settled on a centaur. you know, the half man, half horse? He thought I was talking about minotaurs, and foolishly made reference to labyrinths and whatnot. I had to set him straight. But all in good fun. Interesting night, interesting night. 

     But work is okay. I'm starting to feel more comfortable. It's weird to be in a place where the work you do has tangible results. Also, I spend most of the day occupied on various tasks.  Very little idle time.  And when there is, I go looking for work.  I hate sitting around and doing nothing. Ok, I actually really love that. But not when I'm at work. When I'm at work, funny as it sounds, I actually want to be working.  I hate sitting around feeling utterly useless and helpless as everybody else inthe office is buzzing around.  So it's nice to keep busy. What's happening to me. But it's stuff I'm interested in. I had no idea how a magazine worked, and I'm starting to learn little things here and there.  And I got to go to a party I wouldn't have gone to otherwise.  So it's not bad.  Except for the fact that I have to make the three dollars in my pocket last three more days. I see a lot of hotdogs in my future. Well, three, anyway.