When you see the name comScore and you're not an industry newbie, you probably recognize it as a marketing research company. ComScore hosted a party at The Park last night where guests were invited to enjoy delicious food and listen to comScore Chairman and Co-Founder Gian Fulgoni share a brief recap of key industry developments from 2009, also highlighting some of the next big movements of 2010. I know, you're thinking "A research party? How can that be fun?" Well, dear reader (or skimmer), when you add an open bar featuring sangria, a shushing guest, garlic-drowned shrimp, and an up-to-the-minute …

It's official. I hate the Javits Center. I know, I know, hate is a strong word. If you hate something, you wish it dead. If there is a lighter word that means temporary coma, let me know. It's practically in the river, that Javits. Public transportation won't even go near it. It's just not ped-friendly, which was made clear to me when I was almost hit by not one but four cars when I clomped through the cross walk on 35th and 10th with the right of way. I was human frogger, and that's no exaggeration. This, my friends, was …

Before social media channels like blogs and podcasts and microblogs and vodcasts and lifestreams and stop-motion sleep streams coined the phrase "oversharer," I was an oversharer. But people just called me inappropriate then. The Internet is just one giant Photoshop bloat tool, expanding oversharing to outrageous proportions. Last night's digital DUMBO had nothing to do with oversharing, but the end of today's column sure does.

It's always fun to see who brands see as "influencers," or at least the kinds of people who will blather goofily about how they were at this swank party at Morimoto, aren't you jealous. It's also fun to look around and see so many different types of people. I'm talking model types, gossip-mag types, nerdy types, photog Nazi types, Brussels types, wind-up robot types, crazy weirdo types. They were all there last night. This mish-mosh of characters would inflate and deflate like an untethered weather balloon in the Colorado sun throughout the night with one constant: sassy music and high …

What's this Ad:Tech thing I keep hearing about? Last year I had a "press pass" but didn't really use it for anything. I covered parties, of course, because that's what pays the bills, but nothing really indicated that it was a week different from any other. I must not be a tastemaker either, because no one ever tried to bribe me with free tickets in exchange for tweets+coverage. Heehaw. Either way, this week is thankfully gentle compared to the social mudslide next week. One bacchanal focuses on the afterlife and whether you'll burn or eat fluffy cottage cheese.

Covering advertising and media, I'm assaulted with ethical quandaries on the daily. Well, they're not quandaries to me because my self-enforced ethical guidelines read something like this: don't be an ass, and don't make MediaPost look like they breed asses. Sometimes I slip, because I'm human, and these slips are the gunshots in the air that get me back in line with the rest of the chain gang. Walk with me, talk with me, I want to dissect some potentially ethically vague situations that have two sides, as every situation does, that may slow your pointy finger of judgment or …

I love when I have the opportunity to not only splash myself with a little culture juice, but to also share these moments with you. Drink heavily, my friends, from the cup of the Art Director's Club (ADC) and do not fear the stereotypical connotations of such a club. Yes, the room was big enough for everyone's egos, and if they were huge, you wouldn't know it, but maybe that's because last night's event honored those young whippersnappers: the up-and-comers whose claws are only now being sharpened.

If it weren't for the last minute, think of all the things that wouldn't get done. Wait for it....There.... OK, you got it. A serial procrastinator, I have subscribed to that idiom since birth. Some call it lazy like the eye I was born with, some call it pressure addiction. There is nothing like feeling the burn of a deadline, killing that deadline and eating it for dinner. On the other side of the coin are decisions, and sometimes those last-minute decisions yield the greatest rewards. In this case, my last minute decision to attend the "White Collar" party at …

How would you define courage in journalism? Is it insulting strangers through various social media tools? Is it the guts to post passive-aggressive tweets? Is it live blogging the news? Is it live blogging anything on TV? Or is it continuing to work, sometimes without pay and with an empty stomach, sometimes after being tortured and jailed, sometimes after having your throat slashed to silence you -- and most often, after continuing to be a target of your government because you want to give the voiceless a voice and tell the truth? Please, please pick the right one.

Hold onto your rears, people, I've done something today that I haven't been able to do in months, maybe even years. I got up early and made it to a breakfast event not only on time, but EARLY. Mind you, I have no problem getting up at 4 a.m to go fishing, yet it takes the will of 80 million eyelid elves to rouse me for a panel on corporate communications.