After two weeks of relatively good behavior, I allowed myself to be led down the steep slope of a weekend drink fest. Now we are faced with the most dangerous month of all, March, a month of non-stop parties and events that can bring down the strongest person. Add to this the impending visit of Countess Bedelia--at the moment in NYC, planning her assault on Miami--and you can understand my apprehension. Mamie came off her cabbage soup diet on Sunday morning and "demanded" I met her at a nearby German restaurant for breakfast; it involved seven steins of wheat beer. There is little hope for sobriety, but I will try.