Baby is A Star

I can't take more days like this. As has been the usual: got on the line to Switzerland at 5AM to assure that I was within the bounds of their good judgment of time. (Good thing, there, is at noon, they tell you, "Oh, I'm going to Happy Hour"). Then I arrived at the office, dealt with the mindless problems there, jumped in a cab and went home to pick up a Cajun casserole I had baked for KiKi, dropped ito off with endless hugs and kisses from him, returned to prepare for the new, lesbian night, "Pretty Girls" (loved Jesse's question: "Did you decorate?" Answer, "No, I just funded." Tried to get a power nap only to be called back for a computer glich, and then, HAD to pick up the boys at the bowling alley by the house, to bring them to Ditmar's new, Prada Lesbian Night.

THEN! It struck me. I have become a South Beach Soccer Mom.

There is no doubt, now, that Jesse is not only fitting in, but is a celebrity. When I arrived, he was signing autographs of his photo in this week's Wire Magazine. He was in last week's, too. HOW shallow is that? (Shallow enough to make him one of us. )