Tales From the Red Carpet

Well, it's done. The premiere has come and gone, and my stint in LaLaLand is nearly done. It's been a fun ride, and I'm going to miss those priority tags on my luggage and the hotel rooms with grand pianos in them, but it's probably best for me to go back to Queens and be normal again for awhile. Well, not normal, but you know what I mean.

Here I am at the red carpet. Could be a whole lot worse - I have to thank the loads of people who spent multiple hours making me look presentable.

The red carpet is, as it turns out, a rather violent and scary place. The premiere itself was a little excruciating - I've seen the movie six times now, and the cringing still hasn't stopped. The after party was, however, suitably glamorous. I talked with Amy A., who looked gorgeous, was very composed, and sipped champagne out of a little funnel thingy to keep from spilling on her amazing dress. I talked with Chris M., who was effusive and suspiciously loopy and hanging out with Sam Rockwell. I talked with Stanley T. and Meryl S., who were extraordinarily gracious considering the THOUSANDS of people who wanted a piece of their time. I talked to Nora E., who was extraordinarily kind and looked fantastic. But I also hung out with Mark Ricker, J&J production designer, who's amazing, and Amy Robinson and Eric Steel, who are producers on the film and dear friends. I didn't hang out nearly enough with my dear family and friends who came with me, but I believe they had a good time anyway. Oh, AND!!!! I now have the phone number of Danny Strong, AKA Jonathan from Buffy. That was a highlight. And I talked to Alex Prud'homme, who, shockingly, doesn't seem to hate me. I did NOT talk to Zadie Smith, though my husband did, and didn't introduce me.

My posse and I ended the night by closing down a nearby bar. And this morning I'm in my sweats eating bacon and jalapeno pizza from Domino's, a very happy camper indeed.