Dancing On My Own

I went to a fancy party by myself a couple of nights ago. This is the third time in a month I've attended a social event solo - and you know, it's getting easier. Funner, even. Who is this person I am all of a sudden? I'm getting better at small talk (I think). I'd probably attribute this to the discovery of something all of you have most likely known for years already, something you figured out while I was home being a mommy blogger:

When you're a teenager, you go to a party and you make friends. You exchange phone numbers and email addresses and add each other on MSN and MySpace (or, you know, Snapchat, Twitter, whatever whatever). Then you're friends and you stay in touch.

When you're an adult, or, at least, someone who looks like one, you go to a party and you network. It's networking now. You approach a stranger and ask what they do and they ask what you do and they go, "Oh! We should talk down the road - I need someone like you." And then, instead of scrawling your phone number on their arm in black Sharpie marker, you ask for a business card. Networking is twenty times easier than socializing because you can stay at the businessy level as long as you want, but there's still the friendship option. I came home last night with clean arms and a pocket full of business cards - a few new friends too. Win.

Plus, it should be noted that the snacks - sorry, hors d'oeuvres - at a grown-up party are way better than teenage party snacks.

Being an adult: 10/10, would do it again.

Anyway, the party was a launch event for Hotel Saskatchewan, which has just completed a massive renovation, and it was unreal. Five star everything. The kind of party you need a map for. Actually...

...and I forgot to paint my fingernails.

The whole place was open to explore, with food and drinks and music in all of the main rooms - live jazz in the ball room, a barbershop quartet in the barbershop, etc. There was dancing and even a couple of actors walking around in character as mobsters.

At least, I'm assuming they were actors. They didn't say they were actors. But one of them was named Mickey and told me he wanted me to say hi to Vinnie for him because they weren't on-speakin-terms-if-you-know-what-I'm-sayin, and something about sleeping with fishes, so.

Right? (Hotel Sask: if you didn't hire actors for the party the other night, you might want to look into this.)

They were clearly going for a classic but modern theme in every aspect - decor, entertainment, etc... I loved it. I loved all of it. I'm moving in (if they don't want that, they shouldn't have fed me so well).

Speaking of food: Good grief. I came home afterward, feigned a dramatic faint on the couch and described the food to Barclay for about half an hour. Poor guy. I didn't think to sneak anything home for him in my purse. Not even a seafood push-up or a flambeed kiwi.

Entertainment and gluttony aside, the hotel itself is just a really beautiful place to hang out. It has a lot of character, and I'm glad they didn't lose that when they did all of their renovations.

(As I'm beginning to sound like a paid advertisement, I just want to note that I'm not. That never used to be a thing with blogging, and now it is, but I'm not into it. I just had a really great night. This is, at the very most, a thank-you note to Hotel Saskatchewan and Katie Bially for a very sweet evening.)

On my way home, I had to stop at the grocery store to buy diapers and rice and the flour I forgot to buy the day before. Walking into the store, I felt really fancy because my hair was done and I was in high heels - and on my way out I just looked a train wreck, curls in my eyes, trying to balance on my trippy shoes while carrying all that heavy stuff. It was cute, I'm sure. You can picture it, if you want.

#staytrue, indeed