Thursday, February 08, 2007

Shittiest night ever...

Okay maybe it wasn't the shittiest night ever... but since I'm always writing about how wonderful things are, I thought I'd give some insight into the fabulous life gone wrong.

After working a long week and injuring myself in the way only I can, self induced disability, (by slipping on dripped water in my own home!) I sprained my foot. So this whole week in production for a concert series during the superbowl I was limping badly through the Jackie Gleason Theater.

By yesterday morning though I was back at 95% slight pain but nothing that stopped me from working out. Things were looking good as I got ready to attend the 2nd party that I chose to go to. You see i had all these invites for parties and I chose a certain two, because of accessibility and timing, as well as the open bar and type of event. I rsvp tell the folks that I'm coming and bringing my plus one or two and voila! So I'm set.

I get dressed, its a great night and I'm off to meet a friend to go to the Vice Party with Pharrell and Miri Ben Ami, blah blah blah...

I park far so that I can walk around south beach in my snazzy little coach shoes, and take my ipod because it makes things so much nicer. Upon getting to the Cameo (no longer Crobar) we stand with the huddled vip masses who are insisting that they are on the list, in wait to get in. There are 4 lines.

VIP Tables
VIP
Guest List
General Admission

I did mention huddled masses right? It was just that, but I'm used to it. My friend (being a man) was telling me to push my way to the front tell them my name already and get us in. I explain that no one is getting in and that they are making us beautiful people stand outside to draw attention.

So stuck between the 40 something year olds ESPN guys and the barely 20 year old models we wait.

Finally I get someones attention and she's checking my name on the list. Apparently I'm not on ANY list. Apparently the crazy publicist who sent me the invite, the press release and personally invited me has nothing to do with the event. I try not to take off silly door bitches head as I tell her that I have a personal invite from one of the largest PR folks in the country and she gives me the door in headlights look.
"I don't know what to tell you, you're not on the list"

I'm mortified. I got dressed! I left my house! I braved traffic to drive my ass to South beach and hang out with the insanely inappropriately dress H&K crowd! I'm livid. I also had to tell my friend (who left a bunch of his friends going to Diddy's party) that it was a bust.
I argued with him to go back to his boys and leave me next to the orange ferrari. I would be fine. 5 minutes later he's off. I walk across washington and realize, that my vertigo pants are ripped along the seam halfway up my leg. How did that happen?

I call Barbara who lives on the beach and is a hermit, and she comes to meet me with her dog. She's in her PJ's. We chat for a bit, I stop by her apt. I bitch and moan and then say "okay I have to go, thanks for the veggie corn dog."

I begin to walk to my car,
It begins to rain, I am limping again.
I can't catch a cab.
I have two blisters on my toes.
I'm now soaking wet.
I try to call Barbara, the battery on my phone goes dead.

AND amidst the ripped, pants wet dog, limping mess that I am! I am still cat called! and silently followed along Meridian by 4 rather large men in some type of truck hollering such nice things as

"Mama, let me dry you off"
"You need a ride sugar, let me take you home"
"Lemme go home with you?"
"Hot damn mama!"

Ad nauseum....

Thank you for reading and now you know why some nights its just better to stay home!
xo,
Michi

Sunday afternoons...

With so much time to reflect on things lately I can't believe I'm not writing more often.

I must say that it does have something to do with the fact that I can't blog from my laptop.

Laptop:
For those of you familiar with my little gem, she's vintage. Vintage Mac. Circa 2001, Graphite clamshell series, with firewire and wireless (she was the first of her kind). She's been durable and hardworking and has traveled with me far and wide. I find it sad to think her time is coming to end... that she is approaching the twilite of her life with me. I remember taking her to Glasgow in 2001 where my dear friend Stephen looked at me and said "what the hell is a Mac?"..or the cute little bag I bought that not only looks like a replica of her shell, but has a little viewwindow! Ahh... good times.

Nevertheless, her entire hard drive is only 20G and I can't upgrade her to any MacOS X because she will die from the sheer spatial needs of that program. So she has become the spreadsheet, email, word doc queen. Leaving me to head out to the shack for all my blogging needs.

Found Animals:
It seems that anything lost or looking for guidance happens upon my door. I'm talking about dogs, cats, people, you name it. Billy nicknamed my house the Lackawanna house of Miami. I can't help it. It's who I am. I tend to think of that little poem/anecdote (lo que sea) that says God shows up at your doorstep in disguise. Arguing over the fact that even though the cat has been hit by a car and has one eye, I have to do something about it.

Garnet:
Garnet is my company for those of you under a rock or just never listened when I talk about anything besides my dating days. We brought on a fabulous female named Marita Leonard to direct/manage "Special Events". Meaning, me and Veronica are doing the tv/film thing and Marita will be handling all of the non televised event production, large and small. She's awesome! For notices on what we are doing just check out my calendar for upcoming events.

John Mayer:
I think he is a gift to humanity. I recently went to the concert here in Miami with my darling John Mayer fanatical friend Kris and *sigh*swoon* it was moving. In a market so saturated with pop culture products and artists who have huge dog and pony shows to buff up their careers. He is simply fantastic. It is waking up, putting on a fluffy pink bathrobe while I walk around with my hair tousled looking for my cup of coffee and thinking... "Life is good". I can listen to him all day long and given the opportunity he provides the perfect slow dance.

Dreams & Nightmares
I dream so vividly that it scares the shit out of me. I also have been known to talk in my sleep, sing in my sleep, karoake in my sleep, have conversations in my sleep, sit upright, etc. Lord knows whats going on during the unconscious hours but whatever it is, its happening. Last night provided me with a HORRIBLE HORRIBLE image that would show up randomly in my dream as a flash like that little girl from the ring. Except this creature was like a giant praying mantis head with a beasts body standing upright with jowels like the predator. (Which I might add is one of the only things to ever scare me).

Superbowl:
Its superbowl week in Miami! Which means overpriced hotel rooms, 200 times the amount of tourists, insane people on the roads, tons of work all happening at exactly the same time, parties I will be too busy to go too, and fun fun fun!

Men:
I still know nothing.

Highlights of the past couple weeks:
Sitting ringside at the Showtime heavyweight fight! Complete with sweat and blood being flung at me from the ropes! It was awesome!!! It is a deep seated desire I have to kick a lot of ass.

Free tickets to see Mike Epps and Dominik during the South beach comedy festival! HILAROUS!

Driving up to Orlando and interviewing Fall Out Boy, they rock and are awesome guys. But the drive was the best part, mostly because I got to just ride along. :-)

Lowlight:
The 10 year anniversary party at Nikki Beach... I'm sorry it didn't feel like an event. Besides free vodka and rum, it was like any other night at Nikki Beach.
Boo! They could of done so much with it... But ooh, wait.. maybe they did for those invisible people that showed up early, the invisible hor's deuvres, and the invisible open bar.
Thumbs down.

Have I said everything I wanted too... nah... But if you read all of this LEAVE ME A COMMENT because that means you are truly interested in what I have to say and I should pay more attention to you then anyone else. I know I have a knack for neglection.

I'm working on it.

Love ya,
Michi