As I sought out the wreckage of last weekend, I have to comment on this very amusing card sent to me by Baroness Seitzinger; how right she is. But how the mail service got a drunkenly scrawled envelope addressed to "Mrs. Astor" with just my street on it is a marvel. I have another event to plan for this weekend, but it is so secret that only the highest of the land know about it. This actually means more work, but--if I know my parties--it is going to be a great event. I will not be performing any acrobatics at this one.