First Public Party
posted at 1:52 am
on Oct. 7, 2004
Previous entry:
When Moving Sinks In
Next entry:
Sting and Annie Lennox
No, you haven’t been missing entries. I added a few today and backdated them. Tonight, I went out to the Opus Hotel and refreshed myself with a little slice of Hollywood.
HOW I GOT INVITED
Last night, I posted a sign on the cork board beside the mailboxes, offering anyone the cardboard boxes that we were discarding. Save the planet, do a good dead, yadda yadda. This morning, Heidi from F.11 called. She wanted them, a close friend just ditched her boyfriend and needed to get her stuff out of the apartment pronto. Note appeared just at the right time, she said.
So tonight we delivered the first dose of boxes to Heidi, and in the elevator conversations, it turns out she’s a) in PR, b) a very fast talker, c) friendly to people she’s just met, and D) could put me on the invite list for the “Women of Vancouver 2004 Calendar” 2nd anniversary party.
I say “me” because Susie wasn’t so interested in going out tonight. She’s very focused on unpacking boxes right now, like there’s a Cracker Jacks prize in each and she wants to be the one to find it. Which is OK by me: I’m into organizing—moving stuff down to our storage locker, hanging things, running cables, putting things in their proper place. It works out.
Anyway, I ate a turkey sandwich, called a cab, it arrived about 250 seconds later, I ran downstairs, and off I went.
THE VENUE
The Opus Hotel, complete with nattily dressed doormen and ice princess guest list monitor, would have been completely in character in Beverly Hills. It wasn’t difficult, though, to fire up my nonchalant but powerful name-dropping and list-hopping “skillz,” and I was soon bobbing around inside with the crowd. Will that really be my legacy of L.A. living—the ability to jump rope like a pro?
Oval, tiled pillars and curtains made of bathtub-chains broke up the main mingling room, which was roped off from the rest of the lobby. Waitresses, some of whom ought to be on a Waitresses of Vancouver calendar instead of serving drinks and ignoring my pleas, brought trays of shots around. As with any good Hollywood event, there were, technically, supplies of food. In the two hours I was there, I saw three trays.
My drink, a double G&T, set me back $13 Canadian, which still amounts to a pricey drink in U.S. dollars. It’s all for a good cause, though; the calendar is for profit, but all the proceeds of the party—tickets, calendars sold there, and a raffle—went to the B.C. Cancer Foundation.
THE PEOPLE
Hmmm. Hard to say, as I was feeling a little shy, and didn’t speak to too many new folk.
In a word: multi-cultural. Lots of Asians, in the more accurate sense of the words: Chinese, Indians, Malaysians, Taiwanese, even an Australian.
The woman were all dressed to impress—made me feel bad that the only decent long-sleeved shirt I’ve managed to find while unpacking, so far, is a blue-checkered, dressed-up-cowboy, out-Christmas-tree-shopping garment.
One difference that I spent most of the evening trying carefully not to notice in an obvious way, were the number of breast implants. Maybe it has to do with the calendar-model crowd, but I was really surprised. Or maybe I just never noticed in L.A. because the surgeons there are Really Good.
I did get to know several other people from my apartment. They all lived on the same floor, 11, and apparently have great floor-wide parties. I’m glad I’m not on 10, even though they all seem very nice.
UPDATE: I forgot at first, but I’m 90% sure I saw Michael Chiklis, the lead actor in The Shield, cross through the bar on his way up to his room. He’s likely here to film the “Fantastic Four” movie.
THE WALK HOME
I decided to save the (admittedly small) cab fare, and walk home across downtown. The air was cool, people were out walking around on even the darkest streets, and on the way I passed the new Vancouver International Film Festival headquarters and theater, where the film festival is currently going on, ending on Friday. I think I’ll go tomorrow to see a film about Henri Cartier-Bresson, and perhaps also to see the movie about blogger Salam Pax from Iraq. I’ll let you know how it all goes.
