The Stranger, Seattle's Only Newspaper: MATTHEW BATHAN

Party Crasher

MATTHEW BATHAN — Thu, 30 Sep 2010 04:00:00 -0700

Supporting a Child's Education with Alcohol by MATTHEW BATHAN

At the far edge of Belltown in the Vela Lounge, partyers have gathered at the VIP Sports Charity Gala for the opportunity to mingle with the Seattle Sounders FC (swoon!), take pictures with the Sea Gals (unswoon, but okay), and schmooze with local celebrities (no thanks)—all for the benefit of Child United, an international organization that empowers children through education. Since all proceeds go directly to Child United, everyone in attendance has the opportunity to drink as much as they want and say that it is really for the children.

While people are dressed in varying degrees of formal wear and there is a table full of foods that are identifiably party snacks, this event does not have the gala vibe. Instead, I feel like an audience member in an after-hours PBS telethon. Between sets by DJ Hollywood, the moderator implores her audience to drink and participate in the games, raffles, and auctions. Jell-O shots make their way through the crowd, to which she announces, "Every shot you take goes to helping an impoverished child."

By the end of the evening, the Sea Gals and Sounders have failed to appear, but I get a chance to talk to Child United founder Christine Umayam. Earlier in the evening, a friend introduced her as someone who does not throw back paper balls thrown at her. I do not witness or test this assertion myself, but anyone whose goal is to help "children everywhere who really need a chance" is probably too busy to engage in horseplay, anyway. The Jell-O shots eventually make their way outside and to us. I shoot mine. Never before has charity tasted so much like vodka.

Want to watch The Stranger catch paper balls with our mouth at your party? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.

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You Again: It’s Not All Bad—Some of It Is Worse

MATTHEW BATHAN — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 04:00:00 -0700

You Again: It’s Not All Bad—Some of It Is Worse by MATTHEW BATHAN

You have seen this movie before. It’s the ugly duckling all over again, only with people instead of ducks, and high school instead of a duck pond. Said duckling is one Marni Olivia Olsen (Kristen Bell playing a white Ugly Betty), who discovers that her old tampon-stealing high-school bully (the tampon thing doesn’t specifically happen, but may as well have), Joanna, is marrying her older brother. The twist is that Joanna doesn’t remember the suffering she caused Marni—or does she? The plot thickens/coagulates when Joanna’s cosmopolitan aunt (Sigourney Weaver) visits Marni’s house for dinner and Marni’s mom (Jamie Lee Curtis), a former tampon stealer herself, is shocked to see that it is none other than her former high-school bestie. Hence the title, You Again.

With all the necessary characters in place, the movie plods along like every other wedding-centric film. Inevitably, we’re left to wonder—will it or won’t it happen? Forgive and forget? But more importantly, who cares? You Again should have been nothing more than one bad episode (retitled “Up Yours!”) on any show from the 1990s TGIF lineup. Why else would they have cast Carl Winslow and the horny dad from Step by Step if not to make this direct connection?

But the movie is not all just bad. One scene is the worst. It involves our four rivals attempting to outdance each other during the wedding rehearsal using the following moves: booty bouncing, stripper gyrations, general arm flailing, and gymnastics. Watching Jamie Lee Curtis do the reverse mustang on her husband was enough to make me believe in all the Activia she’d been eating—and after this movie, I ate some to cleanse myself of what I’d just seen.

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Oktoberfest at Pair

MATTHEW BATHAN — Sun, 19 Sep 2010 11:00:00 -0700

by MATTHEW BATHAN

With more than six million visitors attending each year, Munich's Oktoberfest is the world's largest fair. In honor of this year's O'fest, Ravenna restaurant Pair will be turned into a Munich-styled beer/wine cellar, with beer provided by the Georgetown Brewing Company and an Alpine-inspired menu featuring house-made sausage, sauerkraut, and spaetzle, smoked pork chops from Bavarian Meats, and fresh and pickled Helsing Junction produce. And at Pair's Oktoberfest, food and drinks start at only $5. (Pair, 5501 30th Ave NE, 526-7655, 3:30–8 pm)

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Party Crasher

MATTHEW BATHAN — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 04:00:00 -0700

Everyone Get in My Mom's Prom Dress! by MATTHEW BATHAN

The music is barely audible from outside the front door, but once it opens, I'm entering a giant house-shaped speaker filled with people discovering the human body's million points of articulation through the bass beats of Dr. Dre. Sweat is pouring out of them as quickly as drinks are going in, and it seems like you can see the red and blue plastic cups wearing down from endless refilling. If this party feels like the complete opposite of an AA meeting, it's only because the house is cramming three parties into one.

One of the housemates, Gus, will soon be leaving with his wife, Laura, on a six-week vacation to Turkey. Throughout the night, they're randomly offered well wishes and farewells. Another housemate, Tahara, is celebrating her birthday. She's instructed guests to come in Leo-themed wear. While this seems to have been largely forgotten, the crowd is apparently doing its best to make up for it by acting like Leos, who are supposedly extroverted performers. The dance floor reveals uncanny impressions all around.

The last reason for the party's existence may have been impromptu. But at some point, one of the roommates arrives on the dance floor wearing Gus's mom's prom dress. During a soundtrack that attempts to outgay a Friday night at Neighbours, the roommates decide to each dance to a song wearing the prom dress. The dress makes its circulation and falls lastly on Gus. His mom may as well have picked this dress for her son 30 years ago—Gus is absolutely radiant and sparkling in it. For Turkey's sake, I hope the dress finds its way into Gus's luggage.

Want The Stranger to admire your mom's figure from the 1970s at your house party? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@ thestranger.com.

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12th Avenue Neighborhood Festival

MATTHEW BATHAN — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 11:00:00 -0700

by MATTHEW BATHAN

For the first time ever (in local memory), Capitol Hill's 12th Avenue hosts a street festival. Lark, Cafe Presse, Marjorie, Elliott Bay Cafe, La Spiga, Bluebird Homemade Ice Cream, and others will be out between Pike and Madison, serving their goods for $5 and under. Entertainment comes in the form of roving buskers (watch out!). Note to parents: There will be a "fun-filled space just for kids." Note to unencumbered adults: Your fun-filled space is inside the beer and wine garden (which hopefully won't be a chain-link-fenced gulag). (12th Ave between Pike and Madison, www.12thavenuefestival.com. Noon–6 pm.)

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Party Crasher

MATTHEW BATHAN — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 04:00:00 -0700

The End of Tittleford Manor by MATTHEW BATHAN

The backyard of Tittle- ford Manor looks like the Garden of Eden, if the Garden of Eden went to hell. This is not a bad thing; it's just what happens when your party is in a garden stunning enough to make a green thumb hard and is lit by torch fire. I introduce myself to the host, who tells me: "Don't walk on the garden, use the bathroom down the hall, and have fun!" These are his three commandments, and everyone seems to obey them.

The man operating the keg (or at least refusing to leave its side) is squirting water at people with his plastic water gun. A woman approaches him with a red cup and asks, "Are you qualified for this?" It is unclear whether she means to shoot people with water or to pour beer from the keg. As a test, she requests that he shoot her in the mouth. He says, "I'm gonna try not to make it" and playfully aims at her chest. She leaves him with both sacraments received: Her face is wet and her cup is full. I ask him what he's pouring. He says, "This is the Immortal IPA."

Tonight, Tittleford Manor residents and friends are celebrating the end of an era, with roommates going their separate ways. It's obvious that the Tittleford will be missed; while many people are partaking in the booze and barbecue, it is not quite enough to combat the sobering effects of reality. Their melancholy remains obvious and intact.

Want The Stranger to hear rumors of a hot, sweaty dance party down the street from your house party? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.

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Party Crasher

MATTHEW BATHAN — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 04:00:00 -0700

How to Party While Not Falling off a Roof by MATTHEW BATHAN

Before heading to the Independence Day Roof Party, I contact the host to ask if there's anything he wants me to bring. He tells me "one bottle of cheap Riesling will buy you all the food you can eat." My hunger dictates the purchase of two bottles. One is remarked to taste like granulated sugar; the other is deemed "all but undrinkable." They are finished quickly nonetheless.

Afterward, we make our way to the food. The spread on the dining room table includes a rack of ribs so tasty I want to eat my own barbecue-sauced fingers, curry so good I want to be baptized in it, and an array of grilled summer vegetables that taste exactly like grilled summer vegetables.

While relaxing on the deck, I glance up at the roof. The realities of us all eventually steadying ourselves up there during the fireworks show with our wine and beer bottles in hand dawns on me. The steady downward slope of the shingles and the flimsy rain gutters forebode the inevitable consequence of roof drinking: roof falling. But once the fireworks begin exploding, the partyers make their way to the upper floor and out the bedroom window. We proceed against the roof slant with caution, holding on to our bottles as we would stair railings. The spectacular view ahead makes me want to start singing the national anthem. A jump for joy seems to be in order, but the urge is suppressed considering the possibility of where one might land. So I keep seated while basking drunk in the glory of America's golden showers.

Want to watch The Stranger turn your dinner into a religious experience at your next house party? E-mail the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@ thestranger.com.

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Party Crasher

MATTHEW BATHAN — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 04:00:00 -0700

Toasting with a One-Time Sexy Tampon by MATTHEW BATHAN

It is obvious which house is hosting the Third Annual Celebrity Invitational and Resort Wear Fashion Show. It's the one with dozens of people standing on the front lawn, dressed like they're about to embark on a cruise ship headed for space. Sun hats and sundresses abound. I spot a woman decked in gold lamé from her wrists to her ankles, and for the first time in my life, I see a man who's managed to make orange Hawaiian print sexy.

Felisa, the party's host, leads me downstairs, where I am introduced to a realm of love and booze. All of the walls are covered in a collage of photos from past parties. I look at the wall and see a thousand smiles at once. After Felisa hands me a double whiskey, we head outside, where she calls out, "Now for the moment you've all been waiting for all year." The crowd cheers as she begins announcing the winners of the fashion show.

There are six of them, each of whom looks like they invent casino games for a living. The top prize, a plaque, goes to Noni, whose outfit is a celebration of white towel pieces. As she rubs the plaque against her bare stomach, her gold fanny pack jingles. This is not the first time she's won first place at a costume party. She tells me, "Felisa threw a party where people were supposed to come dressed as something unsexy, in a sexy way." I ask her what her costume was, and she replies, "Sexy tampon." Then we toast to making the most out of bloody situations.

Want The Stranger to come dressed in their new favorite costume to your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to partycrasher @thestranger.com.

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