J-J-J-J.Love
The APLA benefit Oscar Viewing Party The Envelope Please (hosted by Jennifer Love Hewitt, which means she was there) was a blast, even more so the second time around. Barrett picked me up at three and we drove over there and for once our names were on the list...can we say free valet parking? So we were among the first to arrive but that just meant we could have more time to take advantage of an hour of free cocktails, five of which were various martinis named for each of the Best Picture nominees. I had some Mumm Champagne (which Barrett correctly called sparkling wine...score one for him!) then went for the "Fixer," the Michael Clayton-themed chocolate martini (STRONG!!!). Then was the Junotini, a creamsicle flavor (STRONG) and finally the Atone-MINT (mojito-style martini, but don't get confused, no sugar in this one. Oh yeah and STRONG!!!). We had to buy cancer-sticks because neither of us wanted to admit we liked a puff or two when drinking, and had hors-d'ouvres shoved down our throats by very attentive cater waiters (I wasn't complaining). Barrett ran into Dennis Rodman and I saw Beverly Leslie walk by like four times.
We were ushered into a massive tent for dinner (different from last time, when we were all crammed into the Abbey itself) where our table (reserved for the Mumm and Kenwood Winery people) was literally right next to Jennifer Love Hewitt's cabana/table. More attentive servers poured our wine (Barrett loves red), which was a Cab Sovignon to start with, and I guzzled down bread. Finally two other people with Mumm came and said they had been placed at the Fiji table and since no one was at ours (they were supposed to sit with us anyway) they joined us (one gay man and one beautiful Republican fag hag, whether she knew it or not). The Kenwood folks joined us too, and Barrett got sad because they were obviously married and the man was obviously gay. He said my dad was "the hardest working man in show business" so I was a celebrity by association. Food was tasty: tenderloin steaks and potato something or other and tomato salad, and wine wine wine, and of course a complimentary bottle of (our) champagne, my downfall. They broke out a 2004 Merlot I believe was exclusive to our table too...anything to feel superior to the saps who actually paid for this thing!
Barrett and I went out to the fancy trailer bathrooms several times for air pollutants, and were summarily accosted by 40 year old gay men in need of cigarettes or ass-grabbing (and usually managed a bit of both). Awkwardness came when they asked how long we had been together ("I don't know, what time did I pick you up this afternoon?") or if we were boyfriends ("I'm trying him out for size") but we both laughed it off. According to the APLA people Barrett has nice eyes (I concur) and I have a nice ass (no arguments there, but always nice to be felt up...I mean complimented). Jennifer Love Hewitt went to the loo three times, so someone was drinking that champagne!
The Oscars themselves are always exciting for me as well. When Best Actress came up I said to Barrett, "you're getting a smack on the lips if Marion Cotillard wins" (up to then we had only pecked on the cheek). Lo and behold! After it was all over and I pried Barrett away from the other Mumm people and a political discussion (he doesn't remember...but I do!) about how much they liked McCain and Giuliani and all that (please, it's APLA people) we got yet another drink (gin and tonic for me...STRONG) and sat outside talking about why I never called him after our date (seems he was of the opinion that since he paid for the date and it was expensiiiiive I should have been the caller-backer, which I was...Thursday) and how I wasn't sure if he was interested because he had such high expectations and his flirtatiousness came to a standstill afterward, and how I was a nervous date and he denied it and we realized we actually do kind of like each other.
He said he knew a bartender at Fiesta Cantina, which I haven't patronized since I lived with Brandon, so we went over there and met the guy and had another drink (Malibu and Sprite. I asked for a wussy drink because...well obviously) and some oh-so-spicy chicken bites that sent me reeling and chomping ice for the next half hour before we got the car and drove back to my place. Around Vermont he took this weird turn and ended up on some side street cul-du-sac where I thought I would either be raped or left to die, until I asked what he was doing and he said "isn't this where you live?" I told him I didn't live anywhere near there and laughed and we went back on our merry way, smooching at stoplights and my silky grey slacks finally getting some hand-rubbing action. He texted me after midnight (I stumbled to bed around 11:30) to say he had had a great time and thanks, so at least he got home safely.
Viva Hollywood.