Wednesday Morning

Wednesday Morning

Andy wakes up to a snooty neighbor, the sight of Thom Browne, thoughts of Ricki Lake and flashbacks of a wild party.

I keep seeing pictures in the paper of all the people who were at the Metropolitan Museum Costume Institute Ball who I never saw once. It was an even more insane combination of hoohoos than I'd originally suspected. It's always fun to read about a party you were at and find out everything you missed. Chestica Suckson was apparently there and I guess I didn't recognize her because from the pictures I've seen she was dressed as a clown. That's cute! When I saw a picture of Cameron Diaz I had a horrible flashback of walking up to her and -- thinking she was a friend of mine -- putting my hands on her shoulders to say "hey." When she turned around I sputtered. She was cool as could be though.

I do that all the time, meaning I put my hands on the wrong person -- not on Cameron Diaz. I made a running tackle of some guy in the BU Library who I was sure was my roommate. It wasn't. One has to be sure of these things before going for the tackle, but I guess one never learns. One never tires, though, of referring to oneself as "one" in a bloglike atmosphere, does one? (It does not hurt that one has an audience of one.)

Some ladies at my table reported that the powder room was a two-in-a-stall-snort-a-thon, which always sheds new light on a party. Plus there's no better party favor than lickin' your finger, wipin' the floor and coming up with a teeth-numbing handful of model food that one won't find in many other gift bags around town. One just won't! And if one does, one will probably get arrested. I was happy to see no one among all the next day photos that I wish I'd seen in person. That list would include Oprah, Susan Lucci, Marie Osmond, and Madonna.

I am hoping today to see my friend Ricki Lake's photo on the cover of the new 'hot bods' issue of Us magazine. They photo'd her newly svelte bod for their cover over the weekend and I am hoping that's where it goes in light of Paris going to jail and all, which might be considered "of note" for the Us cover-deciders. I will wait and see. For now I am sitting in Pastis pounding away on my blackberry. I have a morning meeting around the corner.

Thom Browne, the menswear designer, apparently eats breakfast here every morning. I read that in the New Yorker or something and forgot it until he walked in in a tight little Thom Browne suit that I am sorry to say looks too tight to me even though I know it's his thing.

My next door neighbor was really snippy with me in the elevator this morning and I am trying to regain my composure and move on. I jokingly asked her if she'd reconsidered my offer to buy her place. (This was the topic of our last elevator convo a month ago). She got very snarly and, among other things, asked if this was to be what I now say to her every time I run into her. I told her that it was not, and that I was excited that, from the looks of things, she and I would be neighbors for the rest of our lives. And that that would be nice for us. She did not care for that one bit! Not one bit!

And I got an email this morning from Graciela about Peeler's amazing hummingbird story on "Work Out" last night. What about that story?!! One could get goosebumps listening to Peeler tell it.... Have yourself a great day, everybody.

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