Networking events suck. To be fair, all events that focus on mingling with strangers rather than drinking too much usually aren't fun. But when I heard that Richard Blakeley, founder of the Webutante Ball and editor at Thrillist, was leveraging the success of Internet Week to a monthly networking party for the Internet crowd, I knew I had to check it out.

This past Bastille Day, instead of watching "Les Parapluies de Cherbourg" and drinking a bottle of French wine, I headed out to Manhattan's Water Taxi Beach at South Street Seaport for 212 NYC's Summer Beach Party. There was certainly nothing French about the event, but it promised fully stocked bars, lots of food and a performance by Funk Master Flex and rapper Fabolous.

Speaking of parties that didn't suck, Definition 6 threw one of the best parties I've been to in New York last month. It was the after-party for the PromaxBDA 2011 Conference, where I stayed too long, drank too much and danced on the roof deck.

As Internet Week 2011 winds down, it appears that my liver and sanity both made it out unscathed. Mostly. The first party on my Internet Week itinerary Monday was the joint eHow and Rachael Ray event at Bar Basque. I was a little apprehensive because the last Rachael Ray event I went to was horrible -- stale food, weird drinks and an awkward venue. So, imagine my surprise when I walked to the balcony to find a beautiful setup of food stations, pleasant music, great decorations and delicious drinks.

I'm slowly realizing that there are people besides my mother who read this column. See, I've developed a following of haters amongst certain NYC PR girls, so when my editor asked me to cover CementBloc's Internet Week "Driving Influence Marketing in the Health and Wellness Sector" event, I was less than thrilled, pretty sure that I would have a horrible time, be honest about it, and add another media-world enemy to the list of "people I can't talk to in public because they will probably hit me." Luckily for me, I would have a good time at the event.

To say I went to better keggers in high school would be an understatement when talking about this night. The event itself was worthwhile -- a New York Women In Film And Television awards ceremony honoring the behind-the-scenes experts in costumes, makeup and hair. Not so worthwhile: the venue itself, which felt like the basement of a Ramada Inn by the Sioux City airport. It was terribly hot, we were served small portions of stale popcorn, and the stage used what appeared to be a shower curtain as the backdrop.

This ANDY Awards write-up has been sitting on my desktop for about two weeks, but deadlines are meant to be missed, I suppose. The event was on Thursday, April 14, and that weekend I went to a Yankees game, drank a lot of beer, screamed at Jeter from the cheap seats in the pouring rain and caught the worst cold of my life. Being the germ-incubator that I am, I got the art department sick, leaving no one to format this post. That's not so bad, because it gave me more time to reflect upon my experience to provide you, …

Carrie Cummings here, MediaPost magazine editor, and now your new Online Minute girl. The daytime MediaPost gig keeps me pretty busy, so I won't be able to party and post as frequently as my predecessor, the much-missed Kelly Samardak. But I assure you, dear readers, that my mingling and party hopping will turn you green with envy. There couldn't have been a better event to start my post with than adMarketplace's Spring Dinner at the Soho House.

I have tried to write this a good 80 times this week. When thanking people that I met through this beat who inspire and influence me, whom I grew to trust, whom I could share an inappropriate laugh or story with, people who were beacons of real in the murky waters of the ultimate schmoozefests -- well, I didn't want to leave anyone out. But I'm afraid I will. So I get word-stunted. Keep in mind I'm a shower thinker, so if I have left you off, realize I'll kick myself in the shower later, which will be more frequent …

Last night I popped out of the 4 at Grand Central around 6:15 p.m. a time at which I really don't like to be caught in that beautiful old travel hub. The key is to plant your head aggressively forward, your feet unwavering, and your shoulders at the offense -- and you just GO. It helps to harness a little crazy eye --which I do -- to part the sea of people in front of you. At least until you connect with another crazy eye and it becomes a duel of wills, but that's a story for another day.