A Post About Nothing
So, I just got home from a trip to a city I cannot mention, where I dined with a friend whose name I cannot mention. We had a wonderful, wonderful time, reconnecting after having not seen each other for about a year. We laughed. We cried. We ate seitan.
Friday night, an author whose name I cannot mention (formerly an "A Lister" and soon to be again, I hope) was on a prime-time national television show I cannot mention (but I can tell you that we spent $40 on a cab to go ten blocks because we were desperate and late because the car the studio was supposed to send never arrived), and then we went to a party in the home of a man whose name I cannot mention, in honor of another author whose name I cannot mention. This one is definitely A List and the editor at her former A List publisher--the person who passed on this new book--is probably going to lose her job after passing on this one because of all the media attention we're getting. (Or, at least that's the rumor going around the trade show whose name I cannot mention.) She was there, too, and she wasn't very nice to any of us.
The host's kids were in attendance, too, and they spent the evening doing skits for people in their bedroom about the Iraqi insurgency. I also met a very cool A List musician but I didn't realize it was him because I coulda sworn he introduced himself to me as a reporter from the biggest television network in Qatar. Yes, because a reporter from that television station, who I don't want to name (hi NSA!), was there. Weird.
Then, we went out for a fabulous dinner with some people whose names I cannot mention, and we had a lot of fun talking about 80s music. On Sunday, I got to hang out with the author that Friday's party was for and it was really cool and everyone was excited to see her and I'm really glad I get to work with her, but sadly, that's about all I can say because of the various Google Alerts setup throughout my company.
I had a pretty exciting weekend, as you can tell.
Friday night, an author whose name I cannot mention (formerly an "A Lister" and soon to be again, I hope) was on a prime-time national television show I cannot mention (but I can tell you that we spent $40 on a cab to go ten blocks because we were desperate and late because the car the studio was supposed to send never arrived), and then we went to a party in the home of a man whose name I cannot mention, in honor of another author whose name I cannot mention. This one is definitely A List and the editor at her former A List publisher--the person who passed on this new book--is probably going to lose her job after passing on this one because of all the media attention we're getting. (Or, at least that's the rumor going around the trade show whose name I cannot mention.) She was there, too, and she wasn't very nice to any of us.
The host's kids were in attendance, too, and they spent the evening doing skits for people in their bedroom about the Iraqi insurgency. I also met a very cool A List musician but I didn't realize it was him because I coulda sworn he introduced himself to me as a reporter from the biggest television network in Qatar. Yes, because a reporter from that television station, who I don't want to name (hi NSA!), was there. Weird.
Then, we went out for a fabulous dinner with some people whose names I cannot mention, and we had a lot of fun talking about 80s music. On Sunday, I got to hang out with the author that Friday's party was for and it was really cool and everyone was excited to see her and I'm really glad I get to work with her, but sadly, that's about all I can say because of the various Google Alerts setup throughout my company.
I had a pretty exciting weekend, as you can tell.
Labels: Work
posted by Kay at
1:47 PM
3 Comments:
Wow, I'm thrilled to say that I understood 35% of this post.
Uh, so did you make out with any A, B, or C-listers?
Alas, I made out with no one. Which 35%? Or can you not say?
I plead the fifth. But it's been bumped up to 80% now.
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