Welcome.

Like a good little nerd, I attempted to cram all of the festivities that Internet Week had to offer into a single evening. My first stop was the Jane Hotel for Guest of a Guest’s bash, where I spent some time plotting chatting (as pictured above) with John Munson, Foster Kamer and Michael Orell and swooning over Rachelle Hruska’s adorable puppy dog. The next stop was the IAC building for Electus and College Humor’s celebrity-drenched Dumb Dumb launch - where Munson nearly wet himself at spotting the dude from The Adventures of Pete & Pete Danny Tamberelli. I somehow concluded my night on the 18th floor of the Standard Hotel for the Topguest party, in the Boom Boom Room to see old friends and eventually on the hotel’s freshly-decorated rooftop. Predictably, having the latter to ourselves (albeit briefly) was a definite perk of the evening.

Life has been really hectic lately and I haven’t done laundry or picked up my dry cleaning in a while… a very long while. In fact, on Fashion’s Night Out I was wearing the only clean pair of pants that I had left. While wearing them, I somehow managed to spill a glass of pomegranate juice into my lap - leaving them stained and soaking. Due to my lack of options, I ended up wearing a pair of American Apparel leggings that made me feel like a superhero.

Stephanie Wei took this photo of me goofing around (while I was on the phone) as we were en route to the Jane Hotel on Thursday evening. I sometimes use this pose to test whether or not I’ll be able to walk in shoes -  if can’t stand on one foot in the heels then I don’t leave my apartment in them. I’m all for wearing ridiculous shoes but I have to be able to walk in them without looking like more of a fool than I already do… Tangent: I doubt that this pair of shoes by Nina Ricci would pass the test.

Some people consider Sunday evening a time to recover and rest up for the oncoming week. Generally speaking, those people are not my friends. Many of the people I know see Sunday as a challenge - a test to see just how much ridiculousness they can cram into the remainder of their weekend before the dreaded Monday morning. Last weekend was no exception and I was foolish enough to partake in it. After wreaking havoc on Diablo Royale, the Rusty Knot and the Jane Hotel, we somehow ended up at a friend’s place in the Waldorf Astoria. One of the perks of living in a swanky hotel is obviously the room service - when it’s 3am on a weeknight and you need to order something (in this case it may or may not have been a heaping pile of fries, bottles of Jack Daniel’s and a sofa) it’s always available. Hours passed, I laughed until my stomach ached and tears rolled down my cheeks. We toasted to the best Sunday ever and when the 5am mark loomed and the third call to room service was for “hookers and blow”, I realized it was probably time to go home so that I’d be able to function at work several hours later. As I walked to the elevator and the howls of their laughter still echoed and softened behind me, I couldn’t help but think that although I was going to feel like hell the next day, life was pretty damn good.

I’m not sure why (assumably because of the potted plants, balcony, lack of light and crowd) but the Jane Hotel’s Ballroom is starting to really remind me of Bungalow 8 during its heyday. I suppose that the comparison is even more appropriate given the Ballroom’s close proximity to Armin Amiri (former gatekeeper of Bungalow)’s now-closed Socialista spot. If you ever have the opportunity to go, I highly suggest that you check it out…

The Jane Hotel’s Ballroom wears its exclusive airs with pride: The storied boîte, updated by Waverly Inn vet Sean MacPherson, and run by Matt Kliegman and Carlos Quirarte of the Smile, packs one tough door. The space is impressive, blessed with both titanic dimensions and old-world ambience. The design, too, is lavish: There are antique area rugs, a sea of wing chairs, a grand fireplace, a bevy of stuffed critters, a decaying disco ball, and enormous, velvet-draped windows. A balcony offers a view at the humming masses below. On the drinks menu are ambitiously named specialty cocktails (the Hedwig, the Punjab, the D.F. 68), wines by the glas, German and British beer imports, and good old Budweiser. (via)

After the Made Man launch party last night, I spent several hours laughing myself to tears and abusing the room service menu in Jeremy Phillips’ room (at the Standard) with Rachelle Hruska, Stephanie Wei, Ricky Van Veen, John Munson and Sarah Kunst. After apologizing thanking Jeremy and joining forces with a few more friends (Danny Shae, Kyle Hotchkiss Carone and Alex Adler), all of us gallivanted several blocks down the street to the Jane Hotel for a few (more) drinks…