Disausted.

Seriously, the most absurd evening I've ever experienced. We sat in a most interesting lecture this afternoon with the online editors from American Express Publishing (Travel + Leisure!!!), but we didn't care because everybody wanted to get out and start getting ready for our big night out. It did not disappoint.

We had to leave here by 4:30pm to get down to headquarters in Times Square in time for the party, but half of the guys in the course (which means seven of us) were ready to go by 4:10, so we took off. I was clad in my 'Interpol' clothes: my black/red pinstriped suit pants, black textured shirt, black with silver belt, and silver tie. Thankfully I never got hot during the entire evening (girls at the party would exclaim that they were hot and I'm like 'Um, I'm looking at and down your dress. There's not enough there to make you start sweating.' But I digress), so I was able to keep my calm composure (which proved most necessary later). We got to Conde Nast and entered the party lounge, where black-suited waiters and waitresses really did pass around fantastic food (the most tender steak skewers you can imagine) and the two open bars contributed to lots of stumbling on the way back uptown. We toured the new Frank Gehry-designed cafeteria, and had the chance to take armfuls of free magazines on the way out.

The party itself was fun; I stood and listened to various Conde Nast execs talk about their path to the towering heights of magazine journalism, but I missed the VP/Creative Director for CN, who was like the one person I actually would've liked to talk to. Several girls in our course came up and said 'Ohmigod, I just shook hands with Anna Wintour! And she was nice!' A colleague and I have been tasked with designing the thank you card to CN, and I took pictures throughout the proceedings, but despite the first-hand account of Anna's personality, I was still afraid of taking a picture of her for the collage. Oh well.

Anyway, we had to leave by quarter after seven to come back and listen to what was easily the most entertaining lecture of the course: Mickey Boardman of Paper. He. Was. Fabulous. In every sense of the word that you dare to think of. He took us through his favorite covers of the 22-year old magazine, and dished out a LOT of gossip about working with celebrities in cover shoots. He was a dream to talk to afterwards too. I've collected more business cards in one day than in my entire life up to now. I absolutely must get some sleep now, but I need to stay up and think of ways to email my resume to these guys.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. At the end of the party, I got into a near-shouting match with a fellow classmate over whether capitalism can actually help save the world (I was on the pro-side; don't laugh) with a guy who believes that all capitalists are to blame for the current destruction of the planet. I don't mind fervent discussion; I do mind when you can't get through a single sentence without the other guy sticking his face in yours to tell you what you were 'actually' saying. I even walked away from him at one point and he followed me. I've studied Marx and I've read more Ayn Rand than anybody should ever have to; I'm not gonna be lectured by some goddamn philosophy major by what I really mean by 'my own self-interest.' Buying organic food isn't capitalist? Fuck you.