das whirlwind tour
Okay by now if you have at all been interested you have seen the Flickr photos of our little das Parfum jaunt back to Germany. First of all I'd like to apologize to the folks that I mean to get together with but didn't. This trip consisted mostly of dealing with jet lag, staying up all night at post-premiere parties, and sleeping through the day/plane flights/the actual movie. Next time, please.
The first night back in Munich we hit the team premiere party which was crowded and hot but totally great in part because we saw people we knew and cared about but also because I was tag-team hit on by a hungarian architect and his documentary director wingman, which was important and awesome because I have been feeling like a total cow lately and it was nice to be reminded that I am found desireable by other people besides my loving sweet potato who has basically admitted that no matter how fat I get he would still get a stiffy over me. Also there was good conversation about the World Trade Center/ Libeskind debacle which made me feel smart and opinionated, too. So, after tons of prosecco and choco-mousse parfaits, we headed to the doener stand across from Constantin to celebrate. Nothing like a pile of pommes with curried ketchup and a beer to round out a pretty fantastic night.
Then oh god, the real premiere: all red carpet and swishy socialites at the Mathaeser. Slept through the german version of the film then headed over to the Residenz for the party. Wanna know what the VIP area was like? It was like you have to stand around with snooty uptight Muenchen schikeria wondering what the hell you are doing there surrounded by no one you care about and all you want to do is get some air and sit down and have some food and a good stiff drink. Evening saved by another late night stop at a bar next to the hotel with a self-proclaimed wee Irish lass swapping divorce stories. Oh yeah, this is what being an adult is like. Right.
Berlin: thank god for Berlin. By this time we are exhausted. He had meetings all day, I was so tired I couldn't make it across the street to see what was going on for Fall at the H & M. I was that tired. Slept through the english version of the movie then watched Eichinger (can I say not entirely sober?) give an endless speech and slober all over Tom and then proceeded to Borcharts for the after party. An excellent time as there was plenty to drink and people with glass eyes and girl-gossip and the inevitable drunk text messaging to various friends at four a.m. We were back at the hotel by six (shared a cab with the director of Goodbye Lenin and his wife- just as sweet and down to earth as the Muenchners are uppity a-holes) and in bed by seven. So as far as evenings in Berlin go, quite successful.
Then spent the next three days staring with slack-jawed wonderment at the insanity that is the boyfriend's family in his bucolic little hometown, but that is a story for another post. Literally- open mouthed, big-eyed wtf happening there. In the end, it explained so much, but man, it's hereditary? Lord Jesus.
