The Great Deluge

Manhattan is flooding. Those damn Floridians are sending us their weather... curses!

I leave the office and battle the elements just so I can get to my therapist... I mean hairdresser, Heidi at Whistle. It takes a lot to keep this hair just the right kind of messy.

I soak only half my clothes between Whistle and the taxi, and head uptown. I ensconce myself in my flat and concentrate on writing and upscale Chinese delivery (dumplings included).

You may notice I don't mention how fabulous the haircut looks. That's because I'm modest.

I'm going to London and Antibe on Friday. I have meetings already planned, plus seeing best, old friends, and dear family... but all I can think about are the different girls I need to align to make the most of the trip.

A friend tells me tomorrow she's "wearing her black pants," which apparently means she'll be ready to go out, big time. Now you know.