I may not have been blogging this weekend, but I was partying. That's right, a garden party!
Hang on a tick? That's what your thinking, I know. Well, it was a cool garden party hosted by Evan Smith, editor of Texas Monthly, at his house. I got to wander around his house, drinking Shiner Bock and looking through his medicine cabinet. And envying his trampoline.
I didn't know anyone there, of course. I'm a poor blogger from Waco, I don't mix with that crowd. I finally ran into someone, Pink Lady. I told her I felt like I should be cleaning Evan's pool.
We weren't just there to ogle folk art, we were there to welcome distinguished speakers for the annual editors' retreat. The guest of honor last night: Frank Rich, columnist for the NY Times.
The night was spent talking to people and shyly glancing over our shoulders and getting Frank Rich sightings. I finally had to drag Pink Lady over to him so we could introduce ourselves. Yes, I gave him a business card. How embarassing. If PL remembers it any differently, like with me not wanting to go over and possibly spilling wine on my pants, she's lying!
It was over much too quickly, mostly because I was an hour late. I got lost, OK. I don't know my way around the swanky neighborhood; I know my way around the bars downtown.
It was a magical evening.