So last night I threw a little New Year’s party. Well, it wasn’t all that little. Perhaps some of you were there to partake in a night of cheeky revelry. The owners of Angels & Kings (where it was thrown) told me it was the most successful night they’ve had since they opened. Nothing is more rewarding than being, well, rewarded for hard work. I also happened to have one of the best nights of my life. I laughed with my girls, hobnobbed with a celeb or two, drank champagne and danced my ass off. Girls I never met before were coming up to me all night thanking me, not only for the party, but for CheekyChicago.com. “It’s what we’ve been missing,” they said. (Sniffle.) And when the ball dropped, I had no boy to kiss, just a best friend to hug: what could be cheekier?
Oh, and my photographer fainted. Yeah, about two hours before the party was to start. So what’s a party girl to do with no camera guy? Panic. But wait! Plan of action: a friend of his (who’s a friend of mine) learns how to use said fainted photog’s fancy camera in a matter of minutes, cabs it over ASAP and alas– we have a photographer. A tiny snafu, I know this, but one that sent my stress levels soaring, my blood boiling and my worrying heart go haywire. (I quickly got over it. I mean, that poor guy’s health is more important than anything.) But it was the moment when the party was over, the lights came up and a zillion amazing pictures had been taken, that I had to ask myself: Was all that panic really worth it? Life goes up, life goes down. Punches get thrown and you gotta’ roll with them. People disappoint you, but people also surprise you and if at the end of it all you can smile and say, “I learned something,” I guess that’s all that really matters. Fainting photographers or not, I welcome 2009 with an open heart and an even more open mind, because I know nothing is ultimately in my control… and for the first time maybe ever, I am okay with that.
Happy New Year…
