• by Kelly Samardak , December 12, 2008

All The Wrong People Have Self-Esteem Book Party, Cheim & Read Gallery, New York
December 12, 2008

How about that awesome weather last night? Those gargantuan globs of global-warming-wrapped precipitation bouncing comfortably off your forehead as you navigated swirling cesspools of rat hair, road sweat, and fishpart rinse-away... Obviously, if you know me, and I know you do, you know that I can find the positive in anything! ... NOT! I hate the rain, I hate the trenchfoot it brings, and I hate umbrella imbeciles in this lovely rude city. That's a lot of hate, I know. Time for some spiritual cleansing. And what better way to wash that hate right outta my hair than with a sarcastically fabulous, visually vivacious, slap-your-granny alternative to that horrid book "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" by Dr Seuss. I went to the "All The Wrong People Have Self-Esteem: An Inappropriate Book for Young Ladies* *Or, Frankly, Anybody Else" book party last night. What did you do?

While mapping out my night via hopstop.com, the greatest Web site on this rotting planet, I heard the rain increase its Manhattan-slapping pitch. I did my typical internal thought dance, waffling between my own couch comfort and my ethical obligation to honor commitments. I knew the possibility was high that if I skipped out on the Laurie Rosenwald book party on the far-away West Side, I wouldn't make it to the Common show, so I grabbed my umbrella and hoofed it to the L, which I had to wait for while I watched the Brooklyn-bound L come and go at least three times on the other side.

I arrived, after swimming six or so long blocks in horizontal rain and games of umbrella chicken, soaked to the bone and sweating due to my coat that works too well. The Cheim and Read Gallery is, well, a gallery. I glanced around at the sprinkling of people and saw the back of Nichelle Stephens' head. Total surprise, I thought for sure she'd be with her party partners in crime, Matt Caldecutt and Lisa Lacy, at Media Meshing's Final Meshing sh*t show. I've never gone so it didn't hold any self-reflecting poignancy for me. Rumors of people wanting to "go out with a 'bang'" (you know what I mean) further supported my decision not to go.

Circling the gallery, I met Ray Cha, Senior Trend Consultant at C Scout, who reads MediaPost (yay!) but hasn't heard of this column (boo!), and who also shares the same social/professional circles as Shayna Kulik, designer and culture maven. Shayna's pal Esther Giangrande, contemporary art curator for locations in Mannhattan & Brooklyn, also made an appearance.

Yes, there was wine (and a decorative osage orange AKA "monkey brains" in Columbia, MD). The wine made me a little nervous because there were books everywhere, a laptop revolving a slide show of design splashes was open on a desk -- right next to the wine! -- and art was all around. The thought of spilling fermented grapes on a motherboard scares me more than ruining art, I think. I'm not saying it stopped me from partaking -- isn't that what you do in an art gallery? Sip white wine and "Mmmm" and "Hmmm" and "Yessss...I see..." at the walls?

I haven't read the book yet, but I will before I give it to my sister for Christmas, but judging from the few pages I skimmed, it's Bible level. The title alone made me nod and scream "Get out of my head!!"Rosenwald is also taking advantage of some social media channels to promote her book - posting YouTube pieces and creating a facebook group to keep readers in the loop.

Not speaking of loops at all, I was on the ground snapping foot-level views of the party when I was approached by Flash Rosenberg, a slender creative type whose card declares "attention span for hire," but what she really pumps out is photography, comics, writing, and lame free presenting. When I ran to grab my card to trade with her, I ran headlong into Margery Newman, who may or may not be Laurie Rosenwald's publicist. The conversation was very confusing. Either way, it looks like she does publicity and communications, just not that night.

After a fun conversation with a baldy about bald awesomeness and its positive effects on dating life (yes, this was a real conversation), I girded my insides and stepped out into the monsoon night to head to the Lower East Side to see what I thought was going to be a semi-exclusive, password-protected free show (COMMON) promoting NBCNEWYORK.COM. I arrived, after a full-body splash from that nice taxi over there, to find a line. Chortle all you want, I was NOT expecting a line.

The tone of the invitation suggested to me a swift entry due to a secret codeword I had to make up. My code word was pizza and I couldn't wait to use it. I stood in line for a good 20 minutes before I decided in my head I was definitely going to opt out. This was 100% decided when I wasn't even asked my codeword. What was up with that? If you're going to begin the secrecy with a codeword, carry it out! Word traveled down the line that there was nothing special or at least redeeming for the wait in the rain BS (like, say, one drink ticket or a hot dog at the door) so I hooted "I'm not hip hop!" and jumped in the first cab that dumped out more line victims.

Want to know how it went? A source tweeted me "...set was bout 20 min, bad sound, had to pay for drinks, horrible coat check system, Kanye came out, but boo nbc organizer" Needless to say, I enjoyed my night of DVR and Seamlessweb awesomeness.

Take a look inside the gallery on Flickr!

Invite kelly@mediapost.com to your next shindig and get in Just An Online Minute!

If you make me stand in the pooring rain, you bet I'll say something about it on Twitter.