What a day!   Breakfast at Cecconi with John and Jamie.  Climbed Runyon with dogs.  Prada book launch party.  Saw Miggy, hung out with Yves Behar the man who designed the $100 laptop.  Delightful Swiss gentleman.    Brett Easton Ellis told me he had seen Sex Rehab-it made my night!  Met Diana Ross’s daughter Tracii.  Altogether delightful evening.

Drove to (lovely) Michaeline’s wonderful mid century modern house for dinner and had a ghastly time with born again gays.  The usual narrow minded, prescriptive bullshit.  Friday night drunk, offensive, ugly film producer and his sexually wayward boyfriend.  When I slept with the ugly producers boy friend last year  he neglected to tell me that he was a couple.  Lying queen.  Dull financier gay in attendance.  I wish I had stayed at the party.  I left before they sat down to eat pretending that I had to make sure dogs were okay.

I left them to their crab cakes.  Left them to their dreary film ideas.  They were the kind of gay men who blame everyone else for their woes, who refuse to believe that bisexuals exist (even though Michaeline is bisexual) and a banker who is thrilled to be making money out of the economic collapse.  They deserve the mess that they are in.  They really do.

Escaped!  We are all at home now chewing bones and lapping water.  Since Luna arrived the lil dog is suddenly obsessed with chewy bones.  Never was before.