After a rigourous UkuLady day of hanging out with my adorable producer and going to yoga, my best gay friendsy (from 7th floor of Chuckgate, Emerson College!) called me to be his faghag at a hollywoody party which required his attendence for political/networking reasons. Pleased to have a reason to simultaneously dress-up and yearn for a new wardrobe, I agreed to the last minute hollywoody party attending. And Blowfish Sushi was catering! The promise of Macy Gray dj'ing didn't really intrigue me, but hopes of a rehabbed Lindsey or a pantyless Brittney, sure did!
Unfortunately neither Britney or Lindsey were at the party, but the sushi was totally awesome. However, there was no unagi, so another complaint point. It was an extrordinarily ridiculous event with superior people-watching. As Best Gay Friend put it, "These kinds of parties fill me with Rage." Rage and saddness for the rampant insecurity of humankind. Insecurity, fear and self-loathing for not being pretty, skinny or rich enough. I noted to BGF that we were in a Room full of Bullshit. This particular party, a launch party for the Sunset Strip website, was full of, best way to describe them, Wannabes. Wannabe Important people.
They seemed to be marketing and PR people wearing really expensive jeans. Best Gay Friend and I played "Fake Boobs or Real?" And "Who Would You Sleep With If You Had Too?" Not very many hot sleepable people. Lots of really unattractive, heavily made-up, sad people. There was this one model type, thick with makeup, totally skinny and tall and she kept starring at herself in the mirror-wall and doing this lame lip-pursing/head/angle tilty thing that Paris Hilton does. And a not-very-attractive man with expensive hair and probably a cock-of-gold, was all over her. I call it Vanity In Action. Repulsive. She was wearing a couture nightgowny thing and had zero cellulite.
There was another ridiculous plumpish Jersey/Soprano lady in a beige mini-skirty outfit made of sweater with huge tacky gold earrings and beefy legs strapped into leatherette knee-high boots and a humungous juicy couture gold purse. She was like a Mafia Sausage Lady. I ate free sushi, we had ketel one with cranberry and left by 10pm. For all my myspace pals who don't live in LA and desire a piece of it, let me tell you, it's a sad sad ugly world. Insecurity fraught with disappointment, self-hatred and probably bad sex. The world of artistry, cheap taco trucks and wealth-mocking, is far more fulfilling. Best Gay Friend and I wondered if everyone at the party thought we were lame. I'd like to think no; and so the circle continues.
Love Miss The UkuLady Lerner