I went to a reading at Book Soup the other night. I was lured by the promise of cupcakes and champagne—two of my favorite things. Also, I had met one of the authors, Darcy Cosper, a couple of months ago. It’s always nice to support fellow scribes. Her invite was funny:

Friends,

> I'm reading from my novel Wedding Season this Tuesday at Book Soup on
> Sunset with fellow sufferer Noah Hawley, who has also written a novel that
> has something to do with weddings.
>
> If the idea of hearing two authors read about weddings is less than
> appealing to you, you elitist heathen, consider this: it's also Book
Soup's
> 29th anniversary and to celebrate they'll be serving champagne and gourmet
> cupcakes before, during, and after the event.
>
> And just imagine how much smarter and funnier we'll be after you've had a
> couple flutes of bubbly and got your sugar rush on.
>
> Please come. I'll do my level best to make you laugh so hard that Veuve
> Cliquot comes out of your nose.

Best Darcy quote of the night regarding her book cover: “I told them that I didn’t want bouquets or women’s legs.”

The cover has a mélange of bridesmaids’ dresses in sorbet colors. BTW: Noah’s cover has the ubiquitous bouquet. Both books sound promising.

At the reading, I walked straight to the goodies. The cupcakes looked decent, but my gut was telling me that they weren’t going to taste amazing. The frosting was off-white, thick and too perfect— like a wedding from a guest’s perspective. There were yellow, white or chocolate cakes. I was feeling the yellow cake. The champagne was definitely not Veuve, and I purposefully did not look at the brand name.

I grabbed my drink and cupcake before heading toward Chris Weitz who turned out to know Darcy from New York . I had met Chris at an intimate dinner party a year and a half ago. I hoped that he would remember me, because I would feel stupid explaining how we had met. Luckily he did. I asked if he and Heather Graham were still together. They are.

My friend, whom I was with at the original dinner party, had asked me at the time if I thought Chris and Heather were really into each other. I said, “Yes.” My friend seemed on the fence, but he’s more Hollywood cynical than I. Also, they were both pretty and seemingly perfect. I could already picture the wedding.

I am happy for them that they are still together. Chris even cooks. I pushed my cupcake toward him. Chris didn’t even have a drink. He was probably waiting until later when he was at some LA Film Festival event.

“Want some?”

Chris accepted my offering and made sure he didn’t get any cooties on it despite my laissez faire attitude. He had just gotten back from visiting Heather on a movie set. How sweet. But now his back was messed up—those wild kids.

I decided I didn’t want the cupcake after all and offered it to Chris. He was suspicious that I was just trying to get him to hold it. Being a girl does suck when one has to carry a bag, drink and food item. However, this girl just didn’t want empty calories from an average cupcake.

The point of me writing about Chris is that he’s one of the coolest celebs I’ve met. A fellow Jser, Nick, recently presented me with this interview question: "Who of all the celebrities you have met is your favorite?" I’m sure he meant an actor, but technically Chris is an actor/director/writer/producer even though he doesn’t act anymore to my knowledge.

Chris forever endeared himself to me when we first met at the dinner party. Chris and I were in the kitchen, and he introduced himself to me as “Chris”. So I said he looked familiar, and he answered, “Oh, I was in a small independent film that no one saw called “Chuck and Buck.”

That was pretty funny. Normally I wouldn’t ever say that to someone (It’s like saying, “Hi, I’m a dork.”), but it was really bugging me. “Chuck and Buck” did get a lot of deserved buzz (It got an 84% fresh rating on RottenTomatoes.com.), so Chris was just being modest. I genuinely liked the film. Chris is very sharp and easy going, which I think is a hard combo to find. Super-smart people are often too attached to their brains. It was lovely to see him again, and, no, I didn’t pull a Samantha Bonar.