The Movie Star, the Professor and Mary Ann...
So, what does a girl who knows 5,000 people do for her birthday? Why rent out a club and invite 600 of her closest friends of course. Such was the case last night at this party attended by yours truly and Girl at The Century Room on King West. As usual, my expectations were low. I was fully prepared to be drowned in a sea of Metrosexuals. I'm happy when I am wrong, which, as the former-PNB is so quick to point out, is quite frequent.
Gathered together under one roof was one of the most diverse group of people I have yet encountered at a downtown club in this fair city. Character after character popped in and out of our little world.
First there was the Fashion Designer who decided that Girl and I were to be henceforth known as Shoshanna and Mary Ann respectively. And the there was Grenville, a world famous violinist known only in Hamilton. He carried a man purse. I took great pleasure making fun of his man purse. And then there were some very nice metro's...
And then I tried to leave. And then my rubber arm was twisted and I stayed... and then there was the mini-Michael Vartan... and then I tried to leave... again... And then my rubber arm was twisted.. again... and I stayed... again. And then I really did leave.
However, despite my very late night, and many G&T's, I am surprisingly alert and hangover-free today. More so than I was yesterday after fewer beers and a much earlier night. So here's my little rant du jour. I've never really understood the logic of hangovers. Sometimes, I can go out, have very little in the way of alcoholic beverages and spend the next day on the couch. Other times, I can debauch like a sailor and feel as chipper as the day is long. What gives?