My baby, here with his co-worker Lloyd. Leopoldo called from the airport and I'll be waiting at 5 AM with a special welcome-home meal and perhaps a fantasy outfit. Who knows? How many other husbands are greated my Mata Hari?

The whole point of going out is to enjoy one's self. It is not to necessarily pick up some one or to make some point, and that is what The Palace shines at. You can be what you are, get drunk, and be happy.

And, why have one favorite Dustin, when you can have two?

Ah, weekends were never meant to be so fun: Riley, Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, Scottie, and Jeremy.

Then, there is the reemergence of Mrs. Mamie Stuyvesant-Fish onto the bursting social scene. So like her: maintain a reticent position of attack and do so with a full-frontal thrust; she was not--however quite ready for my full flanking attack complete with fireballs. One can never be too complacent in the social battlefield. Still, outside of the Great Northern Court, Mamie is my only social equal, although The Baroness Seitzinger still shows remarkable staying power. I caught Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish off guard here while asking, "Is it true you have locked up Mr. Stuyvesant-Fish in a hunting lodge in Boca while running through his vast railroad fortune on young men, fast carriages, and pearls?" This was the response.