Almost immediately, we spy Lance Bass and his boyfriend, Reichen, lounging in the courtyard. Lance Bass was a member of 'N Sync; which makes him Justin Timberlake's little brother or something, right? I'm so overwhelmed by the crowd that I don't know what to do. All I can think about is what a space cadet Lance must be. Literally. In 2002, Lance started training to become a cosmonaut. He was supposed to go into space but remained grounded due to a lack of funds. In his place, the Russians sent up an empty cargo container, which I imagine is still floating around out there. Bonnie snaps a picture and we continue inside.

Apparently I'd forgotten how terribly uncomfortable I can feel in a crowd. This night was no exception. Anxiety took over, coming in waves as sweaty, sculpted bodies undulated around me. My senses reeled. Everything tilted sickeningly to the left under bright green lights. My heart beat loudly through my ears in painful syncopation, echoing the amplified efforts of resident deejay Chris La Roque of Paris, France. Everywhere I looked were pillows printed with the mocking mug of Anna Nicole Smith. I shut my eyes and held my breath, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

Bonnie suggested we split up and scope the place out properly. We agreed on a spot to meet up later, then off she went. I was alone!

Within minutes I made several celebrity sightings. I saw Wesley Snipes, sisters Paris and Nicky Hilton, Gene Simmons, another Wesley Snipes, John Larroquette, Fat Albert, Bridget Moynahan, Peter Stormare, Robin Black, and Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin.