Publishing Camp Holiday Party

Last weekend was the Denver Publishing Institute Holiday Party, which was held at The Princeton Club in Midtown. We all wore our finest suits and dresses, and happily put on our name tags so we could schmooze with the publishing industry crowd and drink all the free booze we could keep down. Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures from the actual party because I was busy ordering Beck's with one hand, and drinking Beck's with the other. Here are some highlights from the party though:

1) Brent, who at the time did not have a job, was speaking with a woman at Random House about open positions for which he was qualified, when one Michael M. ran up and twisted Brent's nipples. Though hilarious, this didn't go over as well as you'd think.

2) Some girl from a previous class got wasted and started hitting on every guy from the DPI 2007 class she could find, except me (for which I am thankful and not jealous). Her conversation with Mike went as follows:

Drunk Girl: Where were you?

Mike: What are you talking about?

Drunk Girl: We were supposed to meet in the bathroom.

Mike: *confused look as he tries to keep her from grabbing his hand.

3) Though no final number has been confirmed, I think I drank 11 bottles of Becks. This made me hyper-social by the end of the night. When the lights were flicked on and off a few times, indicating the bar was closed and the party was over, I took the last 5 minutes I had and said hi to EVERYONE I had failed to talk to thus far in the evening. The conversations went something like this:

Marc: Joyce! How are you? It's so good to see you! Are you here for the party, or are you in New York for other business? I look at Co-op sheets for the Tattered cover everyday and always remember how much I love your stores and how much I want to go back to them all the time. Last I heard you were thinking about buying another store, how is that going? Are you still considering that? Are you in New York often? I'm just so glad I ran into you!

Joyce: I'm fine, thank you.

4) Jason was there! Boston Jason, who plays a mean game of Scrabble and enjoys crackers and cheese! It was great to see him, and we were all glad he could make it up! Phoebe was also there! She was in town for business and we got to hang out with her all weekend! Erin and J-Nel were both there too, and they are both moving up to New York soon! I suggest they read this website as much as possible to get a better idea of what life in New York is really like.

5) In the middle of a story Carl was telling me, I see this business card shoved into the side of my line of sight. I try to ignore the card for as long as possible, but ultimately had to address the situation as it was really irritating. "Excuse me for a second, Carl," I said, "just let me deal with this." I turn to the girl holding the card:

Marc: What are you doing?

Girl with Card: Here's my card.

Marc: Why is it in my face.

Girl with Card: I thought you said you wanted to meet.

Marc: No, I never said that.

This was especially bad because Girl with Card works for Penguin, and I didn't want Carl to think I was trolling for another job. I love HarperCollins, it rox my wrld.

The DPI Party ended, but the rest of the night had just begun. The lot of us, not a sober one among us, subwayed it down to the East Village. On the subway, I took the best J-Crew picture of Walt ever.



Our first stop was The Sullivan Room. All the reviews from Yelp.com said that this place was just the bee's knees, but as you can see from the picture, it wasn't exactly hoppin' when we got there. Truth be told, we were probably just there too early, but we were ready to dance/drink more and this just was not going to do.


We walked around the corner to another bar, the name of which no one could remember. There was a table at the back that we descended upon and began to order drinks without missing a step. Outside, J-Nel met a guy with dreads. I think dreads are kind of gross, but typically like the politics that people with dreadlocks expound, so I immediately horned in on the conversation. Unfortunately they were just talking about how banana muffins his dreads were, but I got a picture.


Back inside, Jen was getting ready to leave. Because there was a card minimum, she asked if I wanted a shot. Um, of course I want a shot. I told her I'd drink whatever she was buying, and naturally she picked Jeger. Incidentally, I get hungover EVERY TIME I drink Jegar. I can have one wine cooler for an entire night, then take a shot of Jeger and feel like death the next morning. Then Jen left. Oh, I forgot to mention, I talked to Jen's boyfriend some more and found out that he runs a dog kennel where celebrities sometimes take their dogs, which I think is f-ing awesome.

There might have been dancing later, but the only dancing I cared to watch was these two strapping young lads doing the Harlem Shake, or the Electric Slide, or some other crazy dance that came from a song. They were really getting into it, and God love em' they were doing a damn fine job.


Phoebe spilled a drink on my pants and it looked like I peed myself. This was convenient because later when I did pee myself I was able to say that someone just spilled a drink on me...


After Nameless Bar #1 we went to another bar about a half a block down that I think was called, The Bitter End. At this point I was just fine with the prospect of not drinking anymore, but I was excruciatingly hungry. This brings me to an important question about bar food. If you could order anything in a bar at 1:30am, what would it be? My first choice was fish and chips, but they didn't have fish and chips at a bar called THE BITTER END, which is a nautical theme. So I got Pasta Primavera... at a bar... at 1:30am. Naturally I had to have a beer with it, but I was not happy about it.


J-Nel ordered these crazy things called "bar wings." We talked about life, and love, and honor until the food arrived and we found out what bar wings really are... they are unappetizing is what they are. J-Nel was outside, so I grabbed one and bit in out of shear curiosity. The damn thing was so hot I could hardly stand it. Past the batter outer-coating I finally hit a piece of chicken. Unfortunately, because of the batter, I couldn't see where on the wing I was biting and bit right down on a gross tendon. Promptly I spit out the piece of hot, tendon-y chicken. Here, Erin points out the failed bite, which sits next to the rest of my bar wing.


Phoebe was "miffed" about something, and someone said something that I thought was dumb. Then I took an adorable picture of Erin.


After we finished our conversation about Sartre, and after I finished my pasta primavera, we all decided to hang it up for the night. I was complaining about my ride back to Brooklyn, and everyone convinced me to just sleep in Hoboken. For some reason no one can remember this little patch of time before we got to the PATH train where we took pictures in Washington Square. I don't remember it, Erin doesn't remember, nor did anyone else. Regardless, here is the photographic evidence.


My ears were cold.


On the train, J-Nel, Phoebe, and Erin decided it would be really funny to recreate the world's most obnoxious laugh while a bunch of tired, drunk, Jersey-natives filled a train at 4:00 in the morning. J-Nel was explaining to these completely uninterested guys, who were wearing headphones, the origins of the world's most obnoxious laugh. Right as I thought I was going to exit the train without looking like an ass, it made a sharp turn and I fell INTO a guy sitting down. He was actually really cool about it, and gently pushed me back into a standing position.

In Hoboken, we arrived at Walt, Mike, and Michael's place. I was informed then that Phoebe, J-Nel, and Erin had agreed to stay at Pam's place. Oh! Before I forget, and I can't believe I almost forgot this, as we were leaving Nameless Bar #1 we saw Pam chatting up some random dude at the bar. As we waited outside for her, we looked across the street and saw Pam standing with the guy next to a stretch Hummer limo! Assuming they were just exchanging phone numbers or something, we went back to our conversation. About fifteen seconds later, we looked over and the pam, pam's guy, and the limo were gone! Holy shit!

Anyway, the girls decided to stay at Pam's place. I went with because her roommate wasn't there and I was promised a place to sleep other than the floor. When we got to Pam's though, there was no answer at the door. We buzzed repeatedly, called, texted--nothing. Had none of us been so drunk, I'm certain we all would have started freaking out and getting really worried, but instead we were a little pissed we had to walk back to Walt's and assumed she was ok.


Luckily, when we got back to the guys' apartment they were awake. That night we had 1/10th of the entire 2007 DPI class, and 6/9 our classes guys sleeping in the same apartment in Hoboken.

Jason's air mattress was crazy leaky, and we fell asleep to a reprisal of the world's most obnoxious laugh, but it wasn't so bad.


The next morning, Michael woke up on top of his computer, Jason's mattress had mostly deflated and he was practically sleeping on the floor, and Phoebe found a missed call from Pam that was made at 5:00am. She had ridden two blocks in the Hummer, realized it was a terrible idea to go anywhere with anyone in a stretch Hummer limo, and gone home. She was home when we were calling, buzzing, texting, but had just completely passed out.

The morning was all breakfast, and hangovers, and stories about run-ins with the law. It was a beautiful day in Hoboken, the kind of day that makes you feel like a winner, and we were winners... winners with winning smiles and sparkling personalities.