There are two on-the-scene types whose party report filings we dutifully read. The first is every-position-ever-cum-Forbes-scribe James Brady. The second is the Observer's Spencer Morgan, who took off to L.A. (joining nearly every other New York gossip) for an all-out Oscar sock hop. From the Independent Spirit Awards bash at Shutters and the BlackBook party to Entertainment Weekly's Al Gore lovefest and, of course, Graydon Carter's Vanity Fair event, there was lots to cover.

So how come the only thing we can focus on is what Tinsley Mortimer said?

“Hell yeah, we’re representing,” chirped Tinsley Mortimer. Around midnight she and fellow socialite Fabiola Beracasa were the only ones on the tiles dancing crazy-wild-super-fun style. “This is only my second time in L.A., it’s so great,” Ms. Mortimer said. “We got a driver ’cause I don’t even know where the hell I am right now.”

Nobody ever said socialites had to be worldly. Or, uh, city-ly.