Just About the Coolest Thing in the World

President Clinton Put His Arm Around Me

It's true. President Clinton put his arm around me.

Several months ago Calderoj was asked by somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody if his company would do a web site for the Clinton/Gore Reunion at the DNC. He said yes, of course, and the perks turned out to be tickets, admittance to the VIP room, and a picture with Bill Clinton.

The party was at Coors Field on Wednesday night after President Clinton addressed the convention. Calderoj and I attended with his business partner and his girlfriend, the lovely KT. There were a lot of people there whom I did not recognize because of my decade-long television hiatus, but Calderoj spotted them immediately. Joe Lockhart was one of them.

Apparently the organizers were very happy with their web site, because they made sure we got right in to the VIP room. When President Clinton came in, he was like a creature from another world. The crowd parted, and his white crown of hair looked like a halo -- I am not kidding -- this was the affect.

We waited in the receiving line. I don't know why other people were there. They must also have been donors to the event. When he got to us, we were introduced as "the people who did the web site." This introduction embarrassed me slightly because, technically, I'm just the girlfriend of the guy who employs the guy who did the web site.

We shook hands with the presdient and then he said, "Well, let's take a picture." Reader, when President Clinton takes a picture with you, he puts his arm around you. So Calderoj and his partner were to the president's right, and KT and I were to his left. It was so cool. Check back on Jennikissedme in a week or so to see the picture.

After the picture we were so excited that we interfered slightly with the Secret Service. We kind of got in between them and the president for a few seconds. They were very gracious about it, though. Nobody was wrestled to the floor or anything.

Later, when the president worked the crowd at the party, it was like watching a rock star. People just crowded around him. He kept moving, of course. If he didn't he would never have gotten out of there. But as long as he was there, the crowd looked like this slow-moving hurricane, with President Clinton as the eye, and the people who ran the country in the 90s swirling around him.

Chelsea Clinton was there, too. Hillary was not; the president explained that she had found it necessary to retire for the evening. She was wearing what I think was a Phillip Lim dress with large, gold polka-dots on a blue field. She looked great.

I was wearing a blue charmeuse Narciso Rodriguez sheath, Steve Madden peep-toe booties, and carrying my Alexander Wang clutch.

Friday Night

Went to the Wynkoop for drinks and shuffleboard with J's office. When they left, J's brothers arrived along with J's brother's fiancee and we drank and talked. JW was not performing with Impulse Theater last night, so about 9:30 we walked to the Wazee Supper Club for dinner and more drinks, then back to J's office where I watched the four of them play Foosball. We called it a night early and tumbled into bed around midnight.

I wore my cherry-print Betsy Johnson silk halter dress with ruffle hem and red, round-toed Chie Mihara shoes.

Improv

Last night we had a late dinner at the Wynkoop and then proceeded downstairs to catch our friend JW performing with Impulse Theater. I had never before been to Impulse Theater, which is a wonder, since I have been friends with various Impulse cast members for at least thirteen years. BW introduced me to JW when we were working together at the Scientific and Cultural Facilities District. She called him the funniest man in the world. JW introduced me to opera and to KA, who introduced me to my Beloved J. (These initials are making my blog read like a bad roman a clef, or, similarly weird in a different way, a story by Kafka. I need to do something about this).

JW recently returned to Impulse Theater. He left it years ago, probably around the time I met him, or maybe earlier. His first tenure was during the time when the improv was called Comedy Sports. He is indeed one of the funniest men in the world (I am lucky to know a few guys who qualify for this honor). He is also wicked smart. Last night's MC accepted my suggestion that the cast do a scene in the tradition of magical realism, and when JW came out wearing a sombrero and proceeded to do the scene entirely in Spanish, I knew I was watching brilliance. Besides the costuming and the linguistic nod to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the scene included a toothbrush that turned into a bird and flew away and an apparition of the Virgin of Guadalupe, in the bathroom.

Afterward we joined JW and his lovely girlfriend, D, at the Wazee Supper Club, where we talked until they closed the place. They were stacking chairs on tables all around us, but we kept talking. It felt like years ago when we used to go to Damascus every Friday and stay so long after closing arguing and conversing that we became friends with the waitstaff and wound up having to overtip all the time.

We left finally, but we were only the second to last party to leave. On our way out we passed a couple on an early date. They were in that awkward place where they had fallen enough in love to not want to say goodnight, but the romance is too young to suggest something so gauche as to spend the night in bed together.

I wore my See by Chloe, dark gray, drop waist dress with my L.A.M.B. gladiator sandals in gold (four-inch stiletto). I carried my black, Isabella Fiore bag, and tiny, black, silk, no-consequence-designer sweater.

We finally slept at three.