Mr. Astor was off the last three days, which explains the lapse in posts. He drives me into the ground with his energy, his non-stop shopping, and his appetite. Baroness Seitzinger is certainly rolling in the dough still; she's throwing another wine tasting party followed by a sit down dinner. All the big names of South Beach society will be in attendance so I had better arrive early and get a commanding spot before that wind bag, Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, charges in and starts her usual shenanigans. I can see her fleshy fingers filled with assorted snacks as she wolfs down the wine and sets out to loudly proclaim her view of things. It's absolutely frightening, but--of course--we love her dearly.

Other matters are pressing in on all sides. I am organizing a smart pool party at The Tides for Alan and Darren on Friday and working on the annual dachshund festival on Saturday. The after party will take place at Score which will host the first annual Doxies award show, hopefully with Shelley Novak as the star MC. Needless to day, the details in arranging all of this are likely to lead me to drink. Well, what a great way to come up with ideas. I'm thinking of an Oscar statue with the head and tail of our little wiener friend for the invitation and I'm sure I can get my hands on a red carpet (you shouldn't live in this town if you can't). We've already agreed that--short of rigging the voting process--certain dogs will have to be recognized, so I said just create a category that only that dog can be in; we don't have to be sleazy, just creative.

Of course, this is after the pool party AND Twist's annual Warsaw Ballroom party Friday night. Oh, and I didn't mention the turban yet; every one's favorite nail salon/jewelry store, Tootsie's" on Washington Avenue donated a leopard print turban with a jeweled star. You see, I need a turban at the festival as this year I am the doggie fortune teller. "I see you have the mark of a werewolf on your....", no, no that won't work. Count La Mot suggests I purchase one of those schlocky horoscope books at a checkout counter to get inspired. Sometimes you have to be sleazy.