G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S

Yeah, that's me. Because, listen y'all, I hang out with movie stars now.

Before I get into specifics of how I've become completely famous, allow me to re-cap my ridiculous rock-star life of late: First, about two weeks ago I decided I needed to jet out of town and spend a weekend tanning in Bermuda. When I tired of that, it was time to race back to New York so I could go to a dance party with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas on the rooftop of the Empire Hotel.

You guys. I got past the red velvet rope and everything. I was even on the list.

Can you see how I'm just an eating disorder and a small prescription drug habit away from being a real celebrity? I'm just sayin'..

The party was thrown by Ms. Zeta-Jones as a thank you for the cast, crew, and plus one's of A Little Night Music, perhaps as a thank you for embracing her whole-heartedly, despite rumors of her own mild intoxication at nearly every performance. I, frankly, didn't care what the circumstances were, and I assure you that Paul didn't either. Now that we've conquered Broadway and orchestras, we knew that Hollywood was the obvious next step. This party was to be our entry point, clearly.


So, I flew in from Bermuda, dusted off the pretty pink sand, and threw on the tightest back dress I can find, and went shivering into the night for my evening with the stars.

I even had a side ponytail.

I am MADE for this kind of life.

The party, of course, was awesome, and, luckily, not actually outside on the roof, since it was seriously frigid out. Since no one else really likes to eat at movie star parties, Paul and I were able to commandeer an entire bar AND crudite platter all for ourselves. At first we were a little embarrassed to be the only ones eating, and then we remembered that since we're famous now, we can do whatever we want. And besides, we had our OWN platter of cheese and we were at a party with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas. Life was good.

Soon Stephen Sondheim sauntered in and the girls and gays were suddenly all a-twitter. We maintained our poise and continued to casually eat our cheese. Stephen camped out the rest of the night with Michael and Catherine, though Catherine had to run off approximately every 2 seconds to either smoke and be completely insane. So, really it was just the old boys club in the VIP section (which Paul and I made sure to sit right next to. Duh.)

Finally, some other people started eating, so we moved on to the buffet and consumed all the proteins, which really made it a perfect night.

Then it was a dance party! So, Paul and I danced with (and I do mean actually danced with) our new movie star friends until the Empire Hotel kicked us all out.

And that was it! Movie star party? Check.

Now it's just back to reality, which means working hard for America's orchestras. All. The. Time.

But, whenever I need to escape the trenches of my lovely workplace, I can just think back to that one time that I was completely famous for one entire weekend.