Posts tagged regency
SarahB's Tony party 2009

Tonight marked our triumphant return to the Regency, home of many former glories. We ate too much food, drank some things, and broke stuff while we yelled at the television. Some people cursed A LOT. (Not naming names.) SOB & RivB, we missed you terribly. Next year you will have to come; Kevin will pay for your rooms.

Here's SarahB, back where she belongs.

Party prep pt I.

Party prep pt II. I think it's pretty obvious why she invites me along.

Sally: "Audience participation is for nerds."

For drinking purposes I was Stephen Sondheim, Betty Buckley, and Patti LuPone all wrapped into one loud, arrogant, angry package. Luckily none of them was at the ceremony, so I didn't have to drink a goddamn thing! But I did it anyway, just to prove I'm down with commoners/up with people.

Our very gay weekend, and by gay I mostly mean merry

Dear Gods, Lions, Witches, and Wardrobes,

Please do not strike us down for having too much fun. All of it was legal, except for the stealing. (Note that some of these photos were not taken by me, which equals even more stealing.) For those of you coming in late, here's what you missed: Betty Buckley @ Feinstein's and at the weekend.

Anyway, RivB arrived early Saturday morning from Chicago. We took him to Soho and Chinatown for food and fun. He bought sunglasses at The One Dollar Store for $1.08. OMG, HELLO?! Ripoff!

Can you believe it? Palacinka is no more. My heart was breaking but I soldiered on, for the good of the people.

Btw how cute is this? Young lovers bicker and then break down and decide to love each other again. Only in America!

We arrived at the Regency and lo, they upgraded us to a one-bedroom suite just because they liked the look of us. As who wouldn't? We were wearing all of our clothes. Plus they could tell way in advance that we would be drunk enough at 2:00 in the morning to order $70 worth of pizza from room service, after spending much more money downstairs in their bars, restaurants, lounges, and libraries. Here is the 20th floor, with a balcony overlooking Park Avenue, East 61st St, and Central Park. And let me tell you, we tore through this baby like three bumpkins leading a parade of horny farmboys through a circus. (Please self-edit the part of that sentence that sounds like a slander against horny farmboys and/or circuses.)

Finally, after Buckles and three bottles of wine. I always assume we've had the best possible weekends together and then the next one somehow is even better. Good night, sweet friends.

And now here's the tragic part, wherein I make you watch this video in order to understand the full scope of the suite, which my apartment and five apartments just like it could easily fit inside. The smart you will hit MUTE immediately in order to avoid my yokel laugh, but the crazy you will be fascinated to learn that I write EXACTLY the way that I speak.

At the weekend

“At” the weekend. That’s a so-called “British-ism,” right? Cute!

Moving on…when Sarah and I drunk dialed RivB (copyright RivB) from the Regency early last Sunday morning, we forced him to agree to fly in to see Betty with us this weekend. (Actually it might be best that Sarah and I will soon be separated by a continent.) Somehow RivB agreed, so he arrives this morning and leaves tomorrow, and I figured as long as he was going to that much trouble we might as well all spend the night at the Regency and make a real event of it. We convinced ourselves this was a very smart plan because it’s my last big hurrah, although I’m pretty sure there will be at least ten more last big hurrahs over the next two months. And why not? Live, I say! And when’s the last time I slept on Park Avenue? Oh my goodness…that’s none of your business. But it sure makes you wish you were here, doesn’t it?

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