This weekend, back in NYC and what a relief. Even here, though, I found myself hustling around town, being rushed and feeling harried. I hate being rushed. Woke up to a beautiful spring day on Saturday morning and cleaned my room, did laundry and laid out on the terrace for all of 25 minutes - about as long as I can sit still there doing nothing. Why is it easy to sit on the beach and do nothing but impossible to sit on my terrace and do the same? Bizarre. Later in the afternoon, Tara and I ventured to 57th St. for a little high-end shopping. Burberry's, Chanel and later Bloomingdales - dashing from one to the other in record time and then rushing home to get pedicures before the evening.

No exciting events to report from Saturday night.

Sunday, woke up early (11AM is too early for my tastes) to meet the 'rents for brunch. Harried again, rushing to make it to brunch, can't find a taxi due to an April's Fools snowstorm (arrrrgggg!) I painfully sit through what seems like a working brunch with said parents, parents friends and parent's friend's daughter with husband and new baby. All this on too little sleep and more than a slight hang over. My eyes felt like someone had stuffed them with cotten balls after sleeping with my contacts in for two days in a row and really the only thing to do at that point was order up a drink.

Emerge from brunch 3 hours later. Now the brunch cocktails have worn off and the crankiness sets in. Go home and nap for an hour, only to have to wake up and shower and hustle down to Irving Plaza, because I've promised to accompany Sandi to the Johnny Noname show she was working. That would be the alter-ego of A.J. from the Backstreet Boys. Yes, it was horrifying. This dirty birdie boy-bander thrusting his groin in front of a sold-out crowd of screaming 10-year-olds, speaking in his alter-ego's faux british accent and belting out Led Zepplin tunes. The parents had more fun than the kids and all I kept thinking was, what must Paige and Plant be THINKING????? I mean, MY God! The evening was pretty bizarre, including Sandi getting bombed and leaving me (without telling me) hanging with her co-workers. That was a little bizarre. Not to mention the fact that I managed to get myself bombed. Must have been the pre-show SoCo shots that I thought were a good idea.

So, I'm drunk for the second time on Sunday, after not getting enough sleep all weekend. I find myself in a taxi, heading uptown, feeling something like a scene out of Taxi Driver or Saturday Night Fever - cinema with a seventies feel, where the colors are muted and the scene is urban and the streetlights are blurred and I am the hipster character that viewers will feel sorry for, wearing clothes that date myself...the one who will end up alone, overdosing, or maybe divorced with three kids on welfare living in co-op city...and I am self-contained in this retro-urban scene, alone in this massive city where millions live...it's was all very strange.

I got home and it was very quiet. And I was drunk and tired but most important,HUNGRY, as I hadn't eaten since that brunch that seemed like weeks ago. So I order food, and Tara comes home, and we watch All About Eve.

Soon I hear Betty Davis say, "Fasten Your Seat Belts, it's going to be a bumpy night" and I think, you got that right sista.

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