Dear, dear, dear; that bloody holiday is finally over. After cooking all day, I watched the event turn into a Neronian pool orgy; no amount of good advice prevailed, and I politely excused myself from it. That pool has been the worst attraction for the worst behaviour for five years.
Mr. Astor's and my hats are ready for tonight's White Party at which we will be the escorts of The Queen of South Beach, Henrietta the Beneficent. I really don't know the future of mega-benefits like this during times like this, but tonight will be telling. We are bringing Connie Chung, too; she will be some sort of Oriental foot healer tonight.