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Just got back from Xanadu - the gayest musical EVER (and that's saying something) - with my girl friend Mary, and then drinks (I had water, of course) at the Soho House with two of my favorite people in the world, Rachel & Dave.  Ran into a gorgeous guy I'd been out with a few times, but who I hadn't heard from in three weeks.  Well, actually ... I didn't return his last email.  So I guess the ball was in my court?  The undercurrent of awkwardness was undeniable, and I was completely thrown off balance.  Almost walked all the way home, but on second thought (as I was wearing 6 inch heels) took the L, ran into another friend, and spent the ride chatting.  I love it when Manhattan starts to seem like a small town.

So a boy suggested that I post a photo of myself every night before bed, which seems on face like a sort of cool idea, although I'm notoriously unreliable, so I don't know about EVERY night.  But I'll try it for a bit and see how I like it.

Lilly's curled up underneath the bear ... they made up.

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