When some people say they have friends in high places, they mean that they get free breadsticks at The Olive Garden. Gratis carbs are well and good, but when I say I have friends in high places, it means I may or may not have been at Elton John’s Oscar viewing party last night! Oh yes, I was, and IT. WAS. EPIC. Unlike most of my inauspicious outings, my evening was quite the opposite of horrible. At no point did I have to pretend to text anybody and I even made a few friends, which leads me to believe that there is a direct correlation between the number of sequins you have on your gown and the number of people who will complement you and ask you what they’ve seen you in.
Now before you get too excited, I did have to do a little work while I was there, but only a very little and it consisted of restraining the wealthy masses from bumrushing the registration tables and helping with the benefit auction. That was probably the most dangerous part of the night, as I almost fainted at the dollar amounts that Elton’s guests were able to casually give away to the EJAF.
And boy does that man know how to throw a party! Foster the People was his musical guest and they were amazing live. I would have enjoyed their performance more had I not spent most of it being jostled by two drunken ex-Disney stars who shall not be named. I also caught sight of a major, very grandfatherly music producer with a minor on his lap, but hey, you know what they say, it’s not statutory if she was in on it. Didn’t that work for Roman Polanski?
Anywho, I’m not usually one to be star-struck but even I fell victim to the wiles of expensive suits and douchbaggy charm last night. At some point, Chace Crawford, who I usually jokingly refer to as “gossip boy” bumped into me and apologized very sweetly and I hate to admit that I might have giggled like a schoolgirl. Axe hair gel voodoo be damned! You will not get the best of me again!
You may be thinking that this was the upper echelon of events at which I aspire to be networking, but in reality the crowd consisted largely of music industry heavies, TV personalities, and young Hollywood socialites (there were multiple Kardashians in the crowd), and ultimately not too many people who a more opportunistic version of myself would solicit for career advancement. Everybody worth talking to in film was most likely at the Vanity Fair party and the few that were left were highly intoxicated. It occurred to me that the more famous people were and the richer they appeared, the more free liquor they had consumed, perhaps to erase the shame of the things they’ve done to become rich and famous, which would explain the near stupor of the previously mentioned Disney channel darlings. Conversely, the actors from a very popular tween show on Fox were very well behaved, although instead of questionable sexual favors they may be forced to watch Fox news in return for fame, in which case, I don’t know who’s paid a higher price.
In any event, yesterday's soiree was, in the words of Ron Burgandy, “the balls.” It was effing fantastic and I’ve been recoiling at the thought of normal parties I will attend in the future sans Godiva chocolate mountains and the option of breathing the same rarified air as Steven Tyler. But last night I felt strangely at ease among the throngs of people who could pay off my college loans with their pocket change, and reminded myself that one day I will abandon my artistic integrity, write and sell a horribly bad tentpole script and graduate into a world of Chopard watches and Aston Martins. I will be rich and vapid yet, just you watch!
Venue: 5 (Duh!)
Alcohol Situation: 5 (It was free, so obviously…)
Actual Beneficial Networking Achieved: 5
Personal Victory/Dignity Retained: 5
Atmosphere: 5 (Elton John was there, so again, duh.)