You’d assume that the life of a glamorous culture maven like me would be wildly exciting, and it is, kittens, it is. But you’d be amazed at how many things I don’t get invited to–whether on purpose or, worse, by oversight. (At least when they keep you out on purpose it means they know your work and thought about you while crossing your name off.)
Here are some of the events I’ve insanely enough been dissed from lately:
The HBO Grey Gardens premiere. Who belonged there more than me?
The annual LGBT Garden Party. I mean, come on.
Newfest. Yes, the entire festival of queer movies this year! Except for one film! Until I asked! (And then I was begged and flattered, so I went and enjoyed.)
The Hair Tony night bash. Though I’ve raved about the show from day one and had been invited to every party they had before that. And the Drama League Awards dissed me too! And Shakespeare in the Park! And anything at Encores! For shame, people! I am a theater queen! Serve me!
Worst of all: Broadway Bares! And I’d even volunteer to help out backstage. In fact, I’d pay!
I’d love to personally tell you how much this all hurts. Invite me over!