Yes, there she is in all her pomposity. Two afternoons in the company of Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish would be more than enough for any God-fearing soul, but she does come with some unique charms and--as long as you keep a full glass of tequila in front of her--she is likely to talk nicely about you to your face. The Countess Bedelia cabled for news about our Saturday tea and all one could say is that Mamie did not let down any one's expectations of bad behaviour. She managed to spew nasty comments at me, keep her gloved hands down Mr. Astor's pants, AND never let go of her glass of liquor; she's got moxy. God only knows how she keeps slipping out of those bed restraints I so generously donated to her handlers.

Another cable came from the dear Miss Vickie warning me to keep a tight leash on Leopoldo this week since 5,000 gay men and women are in town for the Gay and Lesbian Chorus Association. She even cautioned, "Note I included lesbians in that statement. Obviously Leo is a chick magnet to women like myself, and I would bet you $100 right now that getting a gander at him and his endearing charm would make a flannel clad lesbian doubt everything she believes in". Humph! Now I have to worry about yodeling dykes, too.

Not to worry... Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of that fateful day I took a wrong turn and bumped into the most wonderful man I ever met. It's all been a little dreamy, and--in a town that is definitely not known for its long-term relationships--we have succeeded where so many others have failed. We have never had an argument; it just doesn't even seem possible that we would ever disagree with anything more important than what shirt goes with what pants. After several very public parties for ourselves, we've decided to be private this time and enjoy what we really love about each other. (Close that trap of yours, Mamie!)