Wake Up Call

Thursday morning was interesting.

Rubbed open my sleepy eyes at 9:01am. Guess what time I was supposed to be at work? You got it - 9:00am. The instant dread and subsequent crazy-get-ready-don't-forget-to-brush-teeth-oh-man-I'm-not-going-to-be-able-to-get-a-cab-realization mode is such a nightmare.. but not as nightmarish as how I greeted the day...

I woke up fully clothed - a jacket and heels still on. I also had apparently woken up at some point in the night and emptied the ENTIRE contents of my purse and put the various items in my laundry basket. I have no idea why I did this, but I do know that Vodka is responsible.

Let me take you back to Wednesday night. As you may recall, I had a date with yummy Italian. Well, on the way to date - Heather calls me from a uber-hip bar in the Meatpacking District and informs me that her financial firm has rented an outside courtyard at the Gansevoort Hotel and drinks are free. I'm also heading toward my Cannoli date in the Meatpacking District (self-awarded points for using Cannoli and Meatpacking in the same sentence!) - so I swing by to see Heather and have a quick drink to calm dating nerves. I down 2 Stoli/sodas - get an encouraging hug from Heather who's knee deep into her Martini - and head to the SoHo House.

I meet Gianclaudio outside - and we head up to the rooftop... made famous by the 'Sex and the City' episode where Samantha pretends she's a member. Anyway, Gianclaudio and I hang by the pool on a lovely night, with Fleet Week fireworks in full view - and I down 2 more Stoli/sodas. At this point in the night, it's becoming clear that my date wants to find out more about my job than about me. Awesome.

In the past, when I have dated someone in my business, it's never good. They either like the fact that I work for a news network more than they like me - or they want to find out how they can get into a news network. It's all really poor dating form - which is why I rarely date anyone in the news industry anymore. That and the constant ego-stroking if they're on-air. So Ciao Caro, Gianclaudio!

After SoHo date, I head back to meet up with Heather - who's still raiding the Martini Machine at Ono. She's now spinning like a dradle - and I'm happy to be reunited with my silly friend. Her boyfriend has joined us, mostly to protect her from embarrassing herself in front of workmates. I, however, had no boyfriend to rescue me, and embarrassed myself for the both of us - by getting into an inappropriate conversation with the chief partner of her firm. Think Bridget Jones dinner party inapproriate... and yeah - you get it...

Heather had drank about 8 martinis at this point, and her boyfriend definitely wanted some alone time with his star - so he dragged her away from the bar - but not before she slipped a drink-all-night-for-free armband on my wrist! I proceeded to drink the rest of the night with Heather's colleagues... and I'm told I kept introducing myself to the same people. I'm such a dweeb.

I also met the Director of the movie Johnny Montana. I know this only because while fishing my wallet and lipsticks out of my laundry basket - I found a business card from the Director of Johnny Montana. I googled the guy, and yep - that jogged my memory. Guy Here.