Swimming in Quicksand
A Daily Journal of Survival
By Carol Joynt

Jan 09 - Spring 09

Photos at Photos Central
Contact carol@nathansgeorgetown.com

WEDNESDAY, JULY 1 ... Tonight was sistahs and son night at Nathans. Two of my dearest BFF's, Myra Moffett and Rachel Pearson, met me for drinks and dinner and, toward the latter part, we were joined by my son. Let's see, there were some vodka drinks, and a bottle or two of Hippolyte Sancerre, salads, pasta, grilled chicken, ice cream, and maybe a wee more drinks. Don't ask me. I can't tell you. Hard for me to know. Summer, I guess. Sistah-hood. One of us departed to meet a lover. Another to to go to a party, Myra and I hung a little longer to talk about how great life can be - thanks to friendship. So, here are some pics that show my point of view, including, lastly, what makes Nathans so great, simply making out at the bar:

EARLIER...Welcome to July. All the coolest people are left-handed and born in July, and possibly even in Colorado.

So, there is a Michael Jackson will that supposedly names Diana Ross as a guardian for his children. I wonder if another pops up in which Elizabeth Taylor is named as guardian. Maybe Madonna will take them, too. OMG. Why not? Poor MJ. The aftermath of his death had to be a circus, but I'm sorry that it is such a gross circus.

The Fox News blond women all look exactly alike. I can't tell one from the other. Is that the point? Is this the genius of Roger Ailes? I hadn't watched cable news in a couple of months at least. Dipped back in for this Jackson story. I haven't missed a thing. Bland or sensational but always moronic reporting. There is no information ... just stuff ... unless it is live and they can't comment as events unfold, but then that's C-Span basically.

TUESDAY, JUNE 30 ... Quite an interesting night at Cafe Milano. Ned Brown invited Spencer and me to join him and the visiting son of a close friend. The young man is Christophe Gardin, an engineer from Switzerland, here for a conference. We sat on the terrace in lovely sunny weather. Fortunately we were under the awning, because within 30 minutes the sky darkened and it began to rain, and then pour, and then pour like a monsoon. At the same time a large man named Costas arrived with a woman and two large, handsome and well behaved Bull Mastiffs. They took the table next to ours. He ordered wine, steak and fish. The steak and fish were for the dogs, as well as two large bowls of bottled water! When the rain began to hit their table, he moved the table so he and the dogs were dry but the woman was basically getting soaked, patient as a saint. The rain was so heavy it spilled off the awning like a waterfall.

One of the rose gypsies showed up with his basket of flowers. The man bought a bouquet of roses - but not for the woman. He bought them for the dogs, and then fed them to the dogs, who chomped on the stems and petals.

At our table, dodging the rain made it fun and exciting. GM Laurent kept poking the awning to prevent the pools of water from bringing it down. I mean, the rain was impossibly heavy and splashed all around us. Our bread and plates got soaked but we protected the glasses of Domaine Ott. Of course. Our food was delicious. I had stuffed Zucchini Blossoms. Ned had Bresaola. Spencer and Christophe ate Mozzarella with Tomatoes and Basil. We all had pasta or risotto. Dessert, too. By the time we departed the rain was gone, the sky clear and the air cool and fresh. Here's a picture of Christophe at the peak of the rain. Behind him is the dog owner and his woman, standing in the rain:

EARLIER...One of the richest men in town last night said one of the nicest things to me. It isn't going to be a game changer, but it was thoughtful and meant a lot. I constantly have to re-evaluate my opinions of the rich.

Can't believe it's the end of June! We gotta slow down summer. Take it off warp speed and put it on slo mo. Up early, ready for the day. Lunch planned with the Ops, Black Op I and Black Op II. In other words, heavy day.

My boss at New York Social Diary, David Patrick Columbia, always writes interesting commentaries each weekday. Today he looks at the Madoff case. I was taken with this paragraph:

"Actually I kinda feel for Ruth Madoff, in a way, as one human being to another. She’s got the toughest sentence of all of them to live out. I don’t know her, never met her, but I’m not convinced she knew much of anything. A lot of wives – maybe most wives -- never do when it comes to their husbands’ private affairs, business, or monkey-wise. My mother didn’t. And yes there are quite a few husbands in that same boat when it comes to their wives’ private affairs. Nothing unusual there."

The highlighted part is essentially what my book is about. That and the whole saga of my inheriting and being life support to Nathans.

Also on NYSD, my colleague Ned Brown has an interesting piece about a historic weekend in Charleston, SC, where he lives part time. All of it here.

MONDAY, JUNE 29 ... Lovely dinner tonight on the rooftop of The Hay Adams Hotel for Jayne Sandman and Jeff Dufour, probably only the first of many preludes to their September wedding. There were 20 of us, beautiful flowers, candlelight, a June breeze, a brilliant clear sky and the money view - the White House. All that separated us from the mansion was Lafayette Park, and some Secret Service sharpshooters. Our hosts were Rachel Pearson, Mark Ein, Rebecca Fishman and Henry Harris.

Here is a pic that was shot of Rebecca, myself, Winston BaO Lord, another host, and Rachel. I think this was after dinner and generous pourings of good Sauvignon Blanc.

EARLIER... The subject is Men, Sex and Politics in my column on New York Social Diary today ... as we take a trip down memory lane in the matter of pols and their private parts. You can read it here.

MJ and I are from the same decade. I'm older but not that much older. When I do the Exorcist stairs, as I did this morning, and feel my heart pounding, as I did this morning, there's now a moment where I go, uh oh, is this a good or a bad thing? I push a little less hard. I hope it makes a difference that my body is not pumped full of Demerol, Dilaudid, Xanax and similar. I've got my drugs - how

SUNDAY, JUNE 28 ... At Facebook I've put up 120 or so random Nathans pics for "Buy Carol A Drink." The link is here.

I don't avoid death, but I also not drawn to it. Been there, done that, and with too many - husband, mother, father, sister, aunts, uncles, in laws. But I made today my personal memorial to Michael Jackson. Not the MJ of child molestation charges and the ever-shrinking nose and whiter skin, but the MJ of my childhood and irresistible hooks and unbelieveable foot work and stunning style, and also some very moving and even sweet songs. I listened to his Greatest Hits as I edited photos for New York Social Diary...and really loud. The parrot sat on my shoulder ang sang along. No kidding. Caught the beats and kept in tune.

Later I watched VH-1's tribute to his videos, and this was amazing. I'd seen them but not in a long, long time. In The Closet not only stands the test of time, it exceeds it. Brilliant. Do try to see it. You know the majors: Beat It, Thriller, Man in the Mirror. Eery when Man in the Mirror showed a clip of John Lennon.

Then, after that, the BET awards, where host Jamie Foxx made clear it was not about sadness but a celebration of a Jackson, "black man." He repeated, "a black man. He was one of us, but we shared him." That's an interesting point. Was Michael Jackson comfortable as a black man? Foxx also pulled off an honorable homage to the MJ style, the grooves. And he dared to moon walk.

Well, I wallowed in Michael today and loved it. Sad at times but more often moving, especially playing one or two times one of my Jackson favorites: Rock With Me. But, honestly, there are so many.

I got a very funny email today. I should say ANOTHER very funny email, given the Housewives email of yesterday. I'm not sure whether its out of Nigeria, but it could be. Here goes:

"You have been invited by xxxxx xxxx's to join Affluence.org. Affluence.org is an exclusive community of affluent people dedicated to making life better for both themselves and others.

As a member of Affluence.org you will have the ability to find and interact with other affluent people from around the world, evaluate and contribute to your favorite charities, and gain access to exclusive lifestyle guides to luxury living, travel and the latest trends...."

Hahaha. This is a joke, right?

SATURDAY, JUNE 27 ... An interesting email arrived today. It was from a casting director for Bravo's "Real Housewives" series, asking if I would be interested in doing the show. Get this. Not the Washington cast, but the New York cast! heh heh. I wrote back saying thank you very much but I happen to reside in the wrong city to be a New York housewife, even though that appellation would make me quite happy. Very funny. I laughed a lot and shared it with some friends. They said, "do it." Yeah yeah. I've got my hands full being a Washington housewife without a husband.

Spent most of the day writing my column, which was time consuming because, I don't know, I just took my damned time writing it. I'd write a few paragraphs, I'd go sit outside, I'd write some more, go sit outside, write some more, play with the bird, write some more, stretch out on the sofa and think, write some more. I guess that's called procrastination. Plus I was writing one part that was delicate, and then two other parts. It's a three-part column. I did get it done. When I finish I put it away to marinate, and then re-read early the next morning before pushing the "send" button to New York. Then I ship my photos. Sometimes I ship my photos earlier, but more often after I've written the piece and know what I need.

Tomorrow I really need to go through the tall stack of bills on my desk. Its a wretched prospect because I have no money in the bank, but avoiding them won't make them go away. I've tried voodoo and the magic wand and neither worked. I've tried buying many lottery tickets - too many over the years - and that didn't work, either. I'm good about my bills, but I have a lame policy of paying them only when there's money in the bank. I'm such a throwback to simpler times.

Almost 100 people have signed on for "Buy Carol A Drink" on July 12. Thank you. We will have fun. And you or I will drink a lot.

Stopped in Nathans this evening and finally did something I've not done before. I sat at the bar by myself and ate a cheeseburger. It was delicious. The only uncomfortable part was when someone tried to talk to me. I honestly don't know how to handle a situation like that. I get squirrelly, and that's not becoming at all. Oh my. He was a nice man and meant well. Before THAT happened I enjoyed sitting, watching, listening. It was fascinating to watch how the bartenders knew exactly what some people wanted to drink, it's such a RELATIONSHIP. Also interesting to watch how some people just set themselves up. I mean, they sit down on a barstool, and then array their glasses, phone, whatever on the bar, hunker down, relax and got ready to enjoy a glass of booze. Such ritual behavior. Nathans does it very well. Its the kind of bar where a person likes to have a DRINK. Not a beverage or a concoction, but a DRINK. People DRINK at Nathans. They don't come in to sip or taste. Wild and cool.

The reason I eat about one cheeseburger every six months is that after I have a cheeseburger - even a great cheeseburg - I feel like I've eaten all the food I need for a week.

I forgot to mention that last night when I had dinner at Nathans, the actor Noah Wyle and the actress Sarah Clarke were with friends at booth #26. He's actually even better good looking in the flesh. Very friendly. All of us left them completely alone, except for the waitress who served them ... but she didn't get into his Noahness with him. I think they are in town filming "Below the Beltway."

FRIDAY, JUNE 26...Nathans tonight after the hail, in the pic below the musketeers at the bar, me with my rain storm hair and Blue Cheese Martini, Bill McPherson with his Grey Goose Orange and Aubrey Sarvis, the Classic Cosmo:

EARLIER...t's 7:35 pm and my house is getting pelted by hail and heavy rain. The ice balls are bouncing off everything. The wind howls. What's next? Frogs?

Today I went into the drug store to refill a prescription and the pharmacist said "your insurance was cancelled as of May 31." Whaa? Excuse me? It would have been nice if they'd let me know in advance. Bad enough to not own a car, but to have no health insurance is really scary, and I write that as one who was hospitalized with blood poisoning only several months ago. And I have a child.

I checked with Jon Moss and he said we bounced one check, only one, which we immediately made good, and then did another payment in advance, and this is the thanks we get? The pharmacist said simply, "they are greedy bastards." It seems the greedy bastards are taking over.

I get so worn out by it all. I am worn out by it all. Nothing ever is easy, and I feel routinely pecked at by ducks. Peck, peck, peck. Everybody wants something from me, as if I am a source of endless possibility, opportunity and miracles. But I'm not. I'm only human. But I can run dry. I am running dry. Maybe I did run dry and this is the dust.

A reporter was surprised the other day when I pointed out that as a widow I am an easy target. She said, "I thought people would feel sorry for you." Au contraire. Not men, and not in business. Men especially see widows as a bull's eye for taking advantage, especially where money and control are concerned. Figuratively, men will take a widow and clean her out, skin her, hang her out to dry, and then come back with a two by four for a few more whacks. Why? Because there's no husband around to punch him in the nose. Men feel more manly when they can take advantage of someone, and widows are often defenseless. Its that simple. The men who do this typically have deep issues with women, either hating them or resenting them. But its there. Its not all men, of course, but its a lotta lotta of 'em, and they usually have wives at home. Is it mena of me to say this? No. I have plenty of anecdotes to back it up. Twelve years of them. From my earliest hours owning Nathans. To this very day.

But I do have the Ops. Thank God for them.

My advice to married women: don't have your husband die.

So, in the ongoing spirit of life doesn't always have to suck, this evening I'll meet my other Musketeers, Aubrey and Bill, for some martinis and shared personal therapy. What would I do without them? And Rachel and Sally and Myra and Francesca and Ned and Sahm and Jeannie and both Jims and both Joes and both Mikes and all the good people who write very cool email ... that range from sweet and tender to biting and outrageous, or all those things, and make me happy and sometimes make me laugh out loud.

Warren Buffett is not a prophet but he may be right about this recession. It doesn't feel like recovery is at hand. Its like one of those land mirages you see at sea, with the horizon always moving away as you sail closer. Sigh. Give me a deserted island, a good man, a spear, some matches, and a few strips of cloth.

Since I sent it out on Facebook, I may as well put it out here, too. Save the date of Sunday July 12 to come to Nathans and BUY CAROL A DRINK. All day long. You buy me a drink and you drink it. We'll have fun. You also are welcomed to buy me waffles, steak, pasta and wine. But at the very least, come in and BUY CAROL A DRINK. If you can't make it, you are welcomed to phone it in: 202.338.2000. I'll be there. Spencer, too. You can buy him a lemonade.

THURSDAY, JUNE 25 ... What more primal Larry King night than tonight, but I tuned into the show, hoping to hear some up to date reflections on Michael Jackson, and what do I get: Celine Dion? Cher? C'mon, Larry, this isn't Vegas assisted living. You can do better. Michael Jackson, whatever his controversies, deserves someting more. Yes, I know, maybe you called Simon Cowell and Jann Wenner and Madonna - who I would've booked - and I know how tough it is to get the big gets, but Celine and Cher feel like low hanging fruit.

His perviness is overshadowed by his talent, his fierce trends, and his style. I want to hear from Diana Ross, STEVIE WONDER, Berry Gordy, QUINCY JONES, CamerON Crowe. I can't repeat a story I once heard from a make-up artist who was called into a tent on the mall to prepare him for a DC appearance. But I'd like to hear from her, too. Texture. Deaths like Michael's need texture.

So, I have to hand it to Fox and MSNBC, and CNN after Larry, for much more in the moment coverage, with substantive guests and as-it-was-happening coverage, including brother Jermaine Jackson, Sheryl Crow.

Most likely, good old "Nightline" will be the broadcast to watch tonight. It will bring perspective.

I remember as a little girl dancing to The Jackson 5. Later, watching live the first night Michael moonwalked on national television. Was it the Grammys or MTV awards? Whichever, it was spellbinding. "Thriller" was a thriller. Howard and I were driving across South Carolina in the middle of the night, enroute north from Florida. We had a brand new 8 track "Thriller" and listened to it over and over and over.

You leave behind a complicated, troubled life, Michael, but also an amazing legacy of brilliant music. RIP. I've switched channels to "La Strada" on TCM, a comparable tribute to yearning, loss and greatness.

EARLIER....It's interesting how when my life decides to suck it sucks with full force. This is one of those days. The guillotine looms larger, closer, more menacing than before, and my neck is so small, so fragile, so helpless.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24 ... I'm officially weary of the celebrity sightings in Georgetown. Brad Pitt wandering the racks at Barnes and Noble yesterday, with an enroutage of fans following like puppies. I'm curious. Does he not get tired of tagging along after Wacky Angie, wherever she goes? (But he was quite special in Benjamin Button.) Reese Witherspoon lunching at Leopold's today. The concierge of the Four Seasons hit Proper Topper for $1500 in hats for a "secret" hotel guest. Duh. Do we think maybe Ms. Witherspoon needed some hide-out gear? But good for Proper Topper. The movie star guests come and go through the hotel's basement garage door, so as to miss the regular folks in the lobby...though today Paul Rudd was spotted seeing off some friends at the main entrance. But think of it in the larger context? You are a movie star, work your ass off building a career, earn millions of dollars, and what it gets you is having to come and go through a filthy garage.

A "world premiere" tonight of The Philanthropist tv show, hosted by NBC and the Creative Coalition, with a screening at the E Street Cinema and a party after at Coco Sala, where I become like a smack addict for their chocolate. All kinds of NBC brass flew in for the event, plus the show's star, James Purefoy. I spent most of my time talking to Ben Silverman, who is chairman of NBC Entertainment. We talked about Spencer and Heidi Pratt and how awful they behaved on the reality show, "I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here." I really can't share half of what Ben told me, but it was entertaining. It was interesting to learn that their meltdown was not staged - I thought it was - and that Ben was pissed off with them from day one. Oh, poor poor reality TV stars. Why can't this trend by over? Please.

But here's my question: Why was the world premiere of this show in DC? I watched the the program and did not get the connection. We are not the home of over-rich, guilt-ridden,40-something male nerds who suddenly decide they need to be the blank-checking-writing saviors of the third world. The drinks and food were good, though, and I headed home with a big fat chocolate bar in my hand.

EARLIER...The Georgetown Current today reports on my blog of last week about Nathans lease extension. Generally gets it down, but two misunderstandings. I said in the blog that the rent was reduced - blended - by about $1,000. Blended is an important word, because the rent itself was reduced by well more than $1,000, but when you add in a mandatory escrow payment for property tax, it reduces the blended rent by about $1,000. Even with the reduction, the rent is still high for the current market, and especially high for Nathans.

Georgetown is feeling the recession very hard, and at every level, from the smallest retailer to The Four Seasons Hotel. Some landlords are working with tenants, some aren't. Look at Chico's, which closed up one night and cleared out ... with no advance notice. Yes, down the street, NorthFace is coming in, but that was in the pipeline and it will be interesting to see how it does. As trends go, Northface may have jumped the shark. We'll see. No one wants boarded up properties along M and Wisconsin.

Also, the piece says I "withheld" rent over the last many years. Please don't think that means we were off spending it on good times. We didn't have the money to make rent. We "shorted" the rent because we could not afford the full rent, plus taxes and insurance. Something had to give. And that was in addition to my own savings I was shoveling into the business ... like coal that turned to smoke. But otherwise, the story is a good portrait of where we are right now, doing our best, hoping for the best, and looking toward the future.

Helpful that the landlords' broker indicated there are a lot of offers for them to choose among for a buyer. That is very encouraging. Good for them. Everyone knows it is the best location in Washington - except for whatever room Barack Obama happens to be gracing.

Bright spots: a party of 20 for lunch today, all men, drinking wine, having fun, staying late. Good reservations for tonight. Remember the little engine that could? We think we can, we think we can, we think we can...

TUESDAY, JUNE 23 ... I love writing my book. It reminds me of childbirth and I loved childbirth. I want it to be good. Really good. Its hard work but I like that. After 4-5 hours of writing I'm drained, in a good way, but drained. Barely verbal. Writing the book has changed my habits a bit. I listen to a lot less news. I tend to walk and listen to my thoughts rather than a radio or Ipod. My afternoons are about relaxing, and then an hour or two to review the morning's writing. Lunch is a treat.

Which brings me to today and another example, like last night at the French ambassador's, that life doesn't always have to suck. My friend Ned Brown is just back from Europe and we met for lunch downtown at Oyamel. Sat outside under a red umbrella. We drank margaritas - very very good margaritas - and ate lots of guacamole, very very good guacamole. I also had the crispy, refreshing gaspacho salad, and Ned had sweet juicy scallops and some tacos. But, really, it was the margaritas. Loved the margaritas. Instead of salt on the rim, they serve them topped with a slightly salty foam. OMG. And, of course, they use fresh lime juice.

Our waitress kept staring at me. Finally she said, "I recognize you but can't figure out from where." Oh, dear. I don't think my face is posted on the Ten Most Wanted yet. But we figured it out. She was at Nathans 40th Anniversary party with her mother. She said, "I loved the stories people told about Nathans over the years." Oh, yes. Sweet stories. So much sentiment and love.

I walked home to Georgetown in the warm and dry sunshine. Since I don't expect to have a holiday this summer, these little lunch getaways have to serve as a week at the beach.

Shocking about the Metro crash yesterday. For an hour or so my friend Francesca Craig did not know whether her son was on the train. That's a train and route he usually travels, and at that time of day. But he was not aboard, thankfully. Terrible about what happened to the other passengers, the six deaths and so many wounded. The accounts of survivor passengers and witnesses are chilling. The young girl who watched an older woman die in front of her. That account was tough to read. I'm thinking of the families who lost loved ones, and the injured, who will no doubt be haunted by the accident for some time to come.

Hooray that The Georgetowner put The Griffin Market on their cover. Much deserved. I wish we had more markets like Griffin, making delicious high quality and full meals for take out, and making them to order, rather than scooping them out of a chilled deli case. Its a home cooked meal made of the minute that you pick up and bring home and eat while its hot.

MONDAY, JUNE 22 ...Off to have dinner with the French Ambassador, at the residence. My point? Life doesn't always have to suck.

Welcome to summer. Let's hope it gives solace to us all as we slog through the warm months of the recession. On New York Social Diary today we gain some perspective on our own sorry lots. I visit the wounded soldiers of war at Walter Reed's Mologne House. Please give it a read, here.

On Facebook, and here on the website, I invited Catherine Reynolds to come to The Q&a Cafe on July 9 to hear Jane Hitchcock talk about her new high society murder mystery. If you know her, please let her know. We'd love to have her in the room. Jane would, too.

One hour of boot camp this morning, which involved the usual hundred crunches, scissor kicks, bicycles and leg lifts. Lots of planks, including a "plank off." If you have to ask you wouldn't get it anyway. The winners of the plank-off didn't have to do any of the jumping jack-push up combo, but those of us who didn't win had to do lots of the jumping-jack push-up combo. Otherwise, situps with 10 lb medicine ball, throwing medicine ball, more planks, and ... done. Wrote for four hours straight and then TexMex lunch. Very good on this beautiful day. Sat outside. Had a few sips of a terrible margarita (made with bottled lime juice = yuck). Now, waiting to hear from bank with the usual bad news. Dog sleeping. Bird doing somersaults. Back to writing shortly.

SUNDAY, JUNE 21 ... Hey, hey, whoa. Thanks for the nice emails but it worked out just fine. Spencer returned from lacrosse, said his stomach was bothering him, that we could do whatever suited me but he preferred something light. Hamburgers are not light. So I whipped up curried goat cheese omelets with mixed vegetables, and salads of baby organic greens - from the Farmer's Market today - with Greek dressing and tiny black raspberries (also from Farmer's Market). This meal worked out very well. Happiness all around. (PS-I had a wee olive and blue cheese Stoli martini before dinner. Child said: You're drinking alone? Mother said, No, the bird and dog are here.)

EARLIER...It's funny. I want to go to Nathans and sit at the bar and have a martini and a burger, but there's no one to go with me. I'm not trolling. This isn't "pity me." It's just amusing. My closest friends are busy with one thing or another - mostly to do with "Father's Day" - and so, I thought, since I spend a lot of time doing fatherly things I should treat myself to dinner. It's always more fun to dine with a friend. I have zero natural ability to sit by myself at a bar.

I would pitch the idea to my son but he's mad at me because I don't constantly give him money for gas and meals out, making me one helluva lousy mother. I suggest driving less and eating at home more. "Why would I do that?" Teenage frustration is such a peculiar emotional journey. It's always something. Either I woke him too early, or I let him sleep too late; I didn't make him breakfast or I made him breakfast but it wasn't what he wanted; I'm "prying" because I want to know what time he'll be home for dinner or I'm failing him because I've gone out when he spontaneously wants to eat ... you get the flow.

Today was marketing, writing, gardening and straightening up the house. Here's the thing about straightening up the house. If I always have to put things back where they were how do I know whether where they've been moved or strewn to isn't exactly where they want to be, and that when I'm straightening I'm actually the one making the mess?

Sadly, made a last visit to Balducci's today. They close at the end of the week, but they looked very nearly closed today, with last little bits of stuff on sale for half price. I used Balducci's some of the time, and also Sutton Place Gourmet before, especially when Howard was alive. One year, we had Sutton Place do up some meat platters - turkey, ham, roast beef - for a family Christmas Eve feast at our home on the Chesapeake Bay. When we arrived at the set time to pick up the food, it was not ready. We were, of course, miffed, and had to leave without the meats to get home in time to greet my father and brothers. Late in the day the store manager called, apologetic. He said our home was near his home and he would bring the food. He showed up around 8:30, wearing a Santa's hat, with a beautiful cooked roast beef, a sliced roasted Virginia ham, and a stuffed and roasted turkey. I made the trimmings, sides and desserts.

Well, we were an ecstatic group of people. He stayed for a few minutes and enjoyed a cup of Howard's freshly made egg nog. Maybe two cups, and then was on his way, with a fat tip. It's a happy memory.

The rumor is Trader Joe's is moving in to the Balducci's space. I'm probably the only person around who's not a Trader Joe's fan, but I'm not. I go, but it doesn't bowl me over. It's like somewhere between Whole Foods and Costco with lots of really good and fattening treats you would eat if you were high all the time, and I don't mean high on spirits. Plus, quanitities are packaged for a small army. Its wasteful, unless you live with many people, which I do not.

When the recession's over there will be far far fewer old school "gourmet" groceries and lots more Trader Joe's derivatives. There is a perception it is less expensive, but for me the quantities and waste make it more expensive.

SATURDAY, JUNE 20 ... I had an exceptional and affecting experience today. I spent the afternoon at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, at Mologne House, which is home to soldiers who are recuperating from wounds received in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan. There are some who were wounded elsewhere on duty, but the majority are mideast war wounded. It was a barbecue for them and their families, sponsored by the Heroes Centennial Celebration. Not much more to say except everyone who can should make the time to spend an hour or two visiting these mostly very young men and women. They appreciation the attention and the conversation.

Of course, I wish Dick Cheney, George Bush and Donald Rumsfeld had to live there with them and, at the very least, had to clean the latrines twice a day. But, seriously, they should be tried and sentenced to be there, full time, looking these young people in the eyes, those who still have two eyes, and apologizing to them.

I'm happy this evening that my dear friend who was in grave condition is not in grave condition after all, but stable and resting at home. There was some misinformation out there, according to his chief of staff, and he's actually holding his own. That was comforting news.

I contributed the vegetable dish at dinner tonight. It turned out beautifully. Mixed carrots, peas and corn - the carrots cut to pieces the size of the peas and corn - sauteed in butter. Then, cooked up some Neuskes bacon, chopped the strips to small pieces and tossed that with the vegetables, then grated a little good parmesan, added a little salt and pepper and ... finished. It was a hit, served with lamb chops. We also had butternut squash puree, some Provencal red wine, and Georgetown Cupcakes for dessert.

Otherwise, my day was writing, writing ... after early morning Gi Gong.

FRIDAY, JUNE 19 ... If any of you have ever had TMJ you will appreciate me saying my TMJ is ON FIRE!!! It's raging. Radiating up to my temple. I did acupuncture Wednesday, and yesterday it was better, but this afternoon, OMG, like molten muscle in my jaw. Though, according to the therapist, its not so much molten as tense, tight, rock hard knots of nerve endings and muscle that have been utterly petrified by stress.

Why didn't my husband leave me a marina in Key Largo? You know? Where's the justice?

But beautifully distracted tonight when Bill McPherson and I sat down to dinner at Nathans to talk only about my book, no other drama allowed. It was a pleasure as I macked out on the Mac N' Cheese, which just about anybody who has it claims is the best Mac N' Cheese anywhere ever. I agree. Bill is graciously reading pages for me, and his response is an emphatic "more." No small compliment from a man who won the Pulitzer for literary criticism.

I love spending my time shut in my home, writing. It's what I do best and what I like to do most. But enough about that.

I am starting to plan the fall Q&A Cafe series. Will we have a good fall? Some people tell me to be optimistic. I try, but there's no real indication right now of a potential dramatic upturn. Today I had lunch at Brasserie Beck and it was barely a third full. That's painful. At an adjacent table there were some restaurant people crying the blues about how slow it is all over town. I had dinner last night with a friend who owns more than one small business - here, the Hamptons and Florida - and he said its BAD. So, you know, hurry autumn. Hurry economic recovery.

No boot camp today but I did the Exorcist stairs anyway, all on my own. Only five ups and downs, but still. Not bad. My heart was pounding through my wife beater. Then push ups, pull ups, and a walk before 30 minutes of weight training. Then hot shower, my coffee, my granola, yogurt, fruit and ... writing.

After dinner I visited my neighbor Holly. That was just now. We sat in her garden, dished, and looked up in the trees at the baby raccoons. So tiny. My doggy is 9 lbs and these babies are half his size. They scale the big fat branches of the elm trees and look down at us. Someone said I should put out a basket of apples for them. I may just do that, or try to lob them into their tree hole.

Here's the question for the weekend: is spanking the new hugging? I wonder. Sleep well.

THURSDAY, JUNE 18 ... My thoughts to night are with someone very dear to me who is gravely ill. What else is there to do at a time like this than to savor memories, wish the family well and hope that the outcome is healthful recovery or eternal peace.

EARLIER...This was on Huffington Post this evening and I especially like it. It is from the book, "Be The Change." I may tack it on my refrigerator door, or my pillow:

1. We are not who we were yesterday
Within the space of seven years every cell in our body dies and is reformed, our thoughts are constantly changing and our feelings come and go. We are literally not the same person we were a minute ago, let alone a day, a month or a year ago. As we are no longer who we were when we did the deed, so we can bring forgiveness and hold our past self with kindness and compassion.

2. Forgiveness is not the same as forgetting
Inside us is the equivalent of an airplane's black box: everything we have been through is logged in, whether we are aware of it or not. So forgetting something is not really an option. No matter how hard we try, it will always be lurking around the corner, waiting to drag our emotions down again. On the other hand, forgiveness accepts the presence of the dreaded deed, it looks it full in the face and says, 'Yes, I know you. Now let's have tea together and get to know each other a bit better.'

3. We can learn so much from our mistakes
By getting to know who we were we have the chance to learn from what we did. We can become our own greatest teacher by seeing how mistaken we can be, even when we fully believe we are right. Mistakes show us we are human. If we do not acknowledge our blunders then we are not only blind to our own failings, but we are also much more likely to repeat them.

4. I am ok but I don't always get it right
Forgiving ourselves is not the same as forgiving what we did. A bad or rotten act is just that, and no amount of forgiveness will change it. But nor does constantly blaming ourselves. For instance, Monica made some obvious mistakes - but to continually blame herself will get her nowhere fast. What we can do is to really accept what we did while forgiving that part of us that was unaware of what we were doing or how it would impact other people; the part that just doesn't always get it right.

5. Accepting ourselves, warts and all
When we do something wrong or hurtful we tend to beat ourselves up, to try to find redemption through shame, remorse, and even self-hatred. "I am such an idiot," "My stupidity ruined everything," "I am a hopeless human being." Forgiving ourselves is the opposite. It is a radical acceptance of ourselves just as we are, mistakes and all, so that we can know ourselves more deeply and honestly. And because, in the long run, it is only through such self-acceptance that we are free to love and laugh again. Remember: Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly!

6. Letting go of the drama queen
This is one of the hardest things to do, but holding onto the story and the details of that happened is actually like a smokescreen that clouds our mind and stops us from seeing that we are more than the event, that whatever we did is not the whole of us. We can put the story down. We do not have to hold on to it, or keep repeating it in our minds. We can say: "I made a mistake, but I am not the guilt, I am not the mistake, I am not the failure, it is not the whole of me."

EARLIER...Of course, it rained again during the night and early morning. Poured. With thunder and lightning at dawn. I got up and thought about it and decided I was not going to do another boot camp dodging lightning bolts ... no matter how stimulating that may be for the blood flow. So, back to sleep for an extra hour while the rain finished doing its work. The dog, of course, quivvered under the covers beside me. Inside, in bed, a summer morning downpour is beautiful and soothing.

Received multiple emails from anonymous sources during the night, wanting me to know the landlords broker had not yet presented them with the offers that came in Monday. For some reason they thought I might know why. I do not know why. I am not in that loop. (Maybe its the landlords asking me?) I would like a buyer this week. It would change everything. But maybe its not going to happen that fast. The person who contacted me about moving Nathans to the two top floors, and making a skybar, apparently did not put in a bid, which disappoints me. His group had a promising concept.

I've also not heard back from the group who want to partner with me on an exciting reboot for the dining room. I like their idea, and think it could work, but to go forward with me now -- doable, totally doable -- requires the stomach of a riverboat gambler. I don't even have that!

Please remember to make reservations for our last Q&A of the summer. It's going to be so much fun with Jane Hitchcock. Her book is a hoot and in person she's one of the cleverest people you'll ever meet. Call Jon Moss today and make the reservation.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 17 ... I may at long last be in a relaxed state. It took an hour of boot camp, a half hour of weight training, a full day of writing, an hour of evening acupuncture, a plate of Griffin Market's insane fried porcini mushrooms and a glass of ice cold champagne. Also, the dog beside me here on the window seat at the dinner table. The bird is asleep under his tea towel and the child is off with the girlfriend.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm in a bliss state, but I can see it on the horizon. The acupuncturist believes I'll get there. She also said I have "good looking" feet and a "great" spine. At my age, those are worthy compliments.

I want to reveal of what I've kept pretty much to myself. My goal is not to bring clarity to all the questions I get asked about Nathans. The questions result when people think I don't appear joyous enough about Nathans "new lease." First of all, it's not a new lease. It's a lease extension. If you are in real estate, then you know that carefully crafted term is loaded with potential potholes. But let me go back before I go forward.

I inherited Nathans along with a mountain of debt, an IRS fraud case and a really tough lease. I didn't know how tough at the beginning. But then I didn't know much about anything at the beginning, except I wished to sell the place as fast as possible and escape with my life.

It was not possible. Once the dust settled on the IRS case and I was granted "Innocent Spouse" status by the IRS, I tried to sell the place. No one wanted it. "Awful lease," they said. "Highest per square foot rent in the city." So, I went to the landlords and begged for a new lease or for them to please take back the keys. God knows, I had no qualifications to own a restaurant. I was a writer and television producer. There is no merge in those professions.

The landlords were not interested in a renegotiation. They wanted me to stay and pay the rent - in full and on time. Fair enough. But Nathans couldn't hack it. With me flying it right, it couldn't afford itself. (You see, in the restaurant biz, you gotta be a little larcenous to make it all add up. I lacked that muscle.)

Each month we had a tougher time, and I was having to use my little bit of savings to help pay rent and property taxes. We were sinking. One day, at a chance meeting in a hallway outside the ABC board, their lawyer said to my lawyer, "Carol should short the rent by 30%. That will get their attention. They'll either renegotiate or evict her, but she'll get action. Regardless, it will be a de facto rent decrease." And so, we began to short the rent by 30%. The good news is Nathans was again bouyant. The bad news is the landlords cashed the checks, didn't complain, and the shorted rent was put in a debt column. That was June of 2001.

Through the following years, I kept asking for a rent renegotiation, but it never got anywhere. The landlords and I would meet, I would make my case, but nothing happened. Still, they cashed the shorted rent checks and the debt piled up.

Three years ago the landords put the building on the market, first to rent and then to sell, but still ... we were hoping they would consider a proposal to keep us there. We got a new lawyer, Black Op, pro bono, and made our pitch for a survivable lease. We even had a group pow wow - me, them, all the lawyers. Still, the landlords felt, with Georgetown booming, they could get $18-20 million for the building. They preferred that to renewing with me. Fair enough..

The landlords had a buyer in the fall, but when the market crashed he disappeared. They came to us and asked what it would take for us to stay. We outlined a rent and lease that could keep us alive. Negotiations began in earnest after the first of the year. We all had our eyes on the lease expiration date of April 15.

Cut to now, our recent lease extension negotiation. Nathans has been barely cutting it since the November market crash. Actually, less than barely. We've been overdrawn too often for good health. Jon Moss and I get paid but too often sporadically.

Probably 8-10 versions of the lease extension bounced back and forth between the landlords and Black Op and Black Op II, who joined the team. Anybody who's been there knows what torture that process can be. Meanwhile, the landlords got a new broker and relaunched the sale of the building.

The crux of the lease deal for us was that we wanted the back rent debt forgiven. For them it was they wanted me on a month to month basis, so that when they got a buyer it would be uncomplicated to get us out. That made sense. There were other things they wanted, like a "gag" order on me, to which we said "no," and other things we wanted, like a better rent, to which they said "no."

Then, out of the blue, the landlords filed suit against me in landlord-tenant court. They wanted us evicted. I spent 10 days dodging a process server, who at times banged on my front door. (Disguises help. Ladders at the garden wall to the neighbors help, too). The court date was set for June 15. They threatened to take my house.

So, we came to an agreement. I had to pay $100,000 to the city to bring the property taxes up to date, and another $30,000 in recent back rent that had been withheld. Plus another several thousand in outstanding BID taxes, and $11,000 in other taxes. That money was a loan on my house. Very painful. But then, when I looked at it, I realized that for every dollar I made at Nathans, after taxes, half went back to Nathans on property taxes, building upkeep, insurance and rent....when we fell behind. Personally, I was always struggling, and hawking personal property to come up with money. And over 12 years! Local businessmen who were good at the game said, "Face it, you work for the landlords."

Getting the back debt forgiven was a Godsend, and I was grateful, and I hoped publicity about the lease "extension" would boost business ... because while the rent was reduced, blended, the reduction is only about $1,000. We still have a rent that's too high for what we do. Maybe not too high for the volume of 2007, or a T-Mobile store or a Zara, but too high for little Nathans. Maybe you hadn't noticed, but no one is spending money in restaurants these days.

So, here's why I don't jump for joy. If we default, which could happen in the doldrums of summer, the agreement is wiped out immediately, the hundreds of thousands of dollars of back debt reinstated, the court date reinstated, the eviction reinstated, and the threat on my house reinstated. That's why I beg for your business, your dollars. We'll see. We pray the June rent checks clear the bank. We also pray someone buys the building. In other words, miracles.

TUESDAY, JUNE 16 ... I'm all written out. For whatever reasons, today I was at the keyboard from 8:30 a.m. until 5:30 p.m., with a brief break for a lunch of wild mushroom and bean burrito. (Good). No boot camp this morning, but did walk for an hour. Tomorrow more boot camp.

Last night I had the most pleasant little getaway dinner with my pals Aubrey Sarvis and William McPherson. It was spontaneous, and answered a need, and when I needed them they showed up. First it was Bill and me only, at La Chaumiere, and then when Aubrey heard the news he, too, showed up. We started with vodka, of course. Not big drinks but still oothed the weary soul. In my time travels of writing - and again for reasons unknown - I had in my mind the first meal I ever ate in Monte Carlo in 1976. It was a steak au poivre at the English Pub, alone, after my traveling companion and I had a disagreement of the minds. He went off in one huff and I in another. But the meal was spectacular, my first that trip in "France," so to speak. I can still recall the crunch and zing of the peppercorns and sauce, the chewiness of the meat, the crispness of the French fries, and the view of so many glam people.

Anyway, last night I asked Martin at Chaumiere if I could get the same meal, and voila, there it was. They also had a really good Bordeaux by the glass. Just right. Started with fresh asparagus salad, as did Aubrey. One of them had fish the other had soft shelled crabs. We shared chocolate souffle and berries gratin.

It was an important night, and they gave me enormous comfort, and laughte, and I'll explain at another time when I have some WRITE in me. Off to Nathans now to meet some friends who are making a special thing of coming in there tonight to spend some money. Can't leave them hanging.

MONDAY, JUNE 15 ... A new New York Social Diary column today that focuses on the Holocaust Museum shooting, Owen Wilson wandering Georgetown and more... Read it here.

SUNDAY, JUNE 14 ... Just got home from an hour of Sunday afternoon acupuncture, which was exactly what I needed. I fell asleep on the table with any number of pins stuck in my backside. Ooooh so relaxing. The acupuncturist was shocked by the amount of stress in my joints and muscles. I told her, "I didn't used to be like this....before Nathans." I should add, especially the last six months. So, rather than taking an ax and shovel to me, she stuck me with lots of little pins - in my face, my tummy, my feet, my knees and then, after I flipped over. various parts of my back, particularly along the spine. It did not hurt. Sometimes I did not feel her putting them in.

Tomorrow is D-Day for bids on Nathans building. I have my fingers crossed. Possibly even more than my landlords, I want them to find a buyer for the building and put all of us out of the endless misery of waiting. Of course, I hope it will be the fellow who contacted us about moving Nathans to the two top floors and adding a skybar, but I'll go with the flow ... as long as there is a buyer. It's been on the market for more than a year, but this is first time they've taken bids with a deadline. The broker says he expects some 20 bids. One of them's got to be the winner, and hopefully we'll know by the end of the week.

THAT would remove a certain amount of stress for sure.

I did meet with a man Friday night who has a proposal for Nathans, but I'm not sure it can work with some of the timetable pressures we're under. He has a tempting idea, and I think it could have legs, but the clock may not be on our side. This depressed me. Stopped at neighbors afterwards and we polished off at least two bottles of the new 2008 Domaine Tempier Bandol Rose, which was awesome, and doubly so with the beautiful night. We watched five baby raccoons crawl out of their tree hole to prowl around. Their mother was killed by a trapper and so the babies are on their own. Five little shadows in the twilight, edging down the side of the tree.

So, you know, the wine and the night and the late hours and all the talk, talk, talk with the neighbors. I had a good time, but fear I may have wobbled home ... which is rare for me. I'm done after two glasses of wine. Anything more and ... It's probably because I harbored this teeny tiny bit of disappointment after the meeting. I keep grasping at straws, to no avail.

Worked on my column today, which is a pleasure, and then headed downtown to get some last minute photos to go along with the story. Trying to find parking downtown is ridiculous. After circling I found a spot in front of the Willard, and then later another spot by the Tidal Basin. There were tourists and soccer games, but not much auto traffic. The parking issue wasn't about lots of cars, only so few available spaces.

Anyway, such a beautiful day. Super sweet.

Earlier I hit the farmer's market and scored some of the first raspberries of the season. Gorgeous. Fresh blueberries, too, and a bag of fresh picked spinach. I think I'll saute the spinach and serve it with roasted Chilean sea bass as dinner tonight. The raspberries and blueberries went into some yogurt for a morning meal.

Last night was dinner out with my son at La Chaumiere. We splurged. They had beautiful and fat fresh white asparagus, which was served with chanterelles and some bitter greens. Yum. They also had, get this, Duck a L'Orange. I mean, when was the last time that old timer appeared on a menu? Had to have it and was rewarded. It was not the sticky sweet version prepared in too many American restaurants, but the more austere, almost tart version, which is how it was originally meant to taste. So, I loved it. Had a glass of pinot noir. Spencer had summer greens and soft shelled crabs served meuniere. They were just right, not too big. This is the best time of year for soft shells. Almost anything after the first of June is not a real soft shell, but a shedder. For dessert - chocolate mousse for me, profiterolles for him.

The special occasion was to welcome Spencer home after "beach week" with his pals and, as you can imagine, he had stories to tell. I'm sure they were well-edited, but I did my best to probe and prod for details. He caught a few sunrises, which is what everyone should do at least once during a beach holiday. I was pleased he did not return with tattoos or piercings. Tomorrow he begins an internship (not paying) and a job (paying).

I'll be back to working on the book, a project that makes me happy all day long. But it's tough, tough work. And weird, too. Weird right now to be writing about the first days of my owning Nathans as I face what could be ... who knows? A new beginning? But I'll tell ya this, visiting the past is not sentimental. Only weird. I mean, the debt then was $250,000. That's the debit I inherited, not counting the IRS, etc. That was just the vendor debt. We cut it down substantially, but then the recession came along and rolled us good.

FRIDAY, JUNE 12 ... I would like at least a few of you today to please phone Jon Moss at Nathans and make a reservation for our July 9 Q&A Cafe ... the last before the fall ... and featuring one of the wittiest women in Washington and New York, Jane Stanton Hitchcock. She's a sharpy, and the cleverness and insight come across loud and clear in her sensational Washington murder mystery, "Mortal Friends." Jon's number is 202.338.2000. We need to fill the room. It will be a fun early summer party. I promise. Not heavy. Light, funny and lots of dish about who's sleeping around, doing drugs, booze, shenanigans and could be a candidate to commit murder among the city's rich and powerful.

THURSDAY, JUNE 11 ... Okay, please pat me on the back. Today I did the Exorcist Steps drill three more times than last week, meaning about 8 up and downs to everybody else's 12. Each time we got to the top we did 15 pull ups. At the bottom we did 15 push ups. Later, after 20 minutes of steps we did medicine ball work and lunges, and bands. Believe me, it's fun. All of us together, pushing each other, pulling for each other. No competitiveness. We compete against ourselves. And our coach, Jim Scott Polsinelli, does not make stupid jokes. Gentle humor is his skill, and a lot of gentle but focused pushing to get us to do more, and we do.

The new season begins Monday with two solid weeks of core work. Tomorrow for me: no boot camp. Weight training instead.

Today I was a guest at a lovely "ladies who lunch" kind of lunch party, given by the city's premier social hostess. I felt like I'd been let in with the adults. Long, long cocktail hour. Lots of jib-jabbing. Most of the ladies in smart suits. Not I. Summer mufti. Ages old Hermes leggings that I bought in St. Barth's in 1996, and an orange tunic with gold glittery motif, bought in the Bahamas moons ago - could be Indian, goes beautifully with warm weather - and sandals. The hostess was dressed for lunch at any chic seaside bistro in St. Tropez. But, everyone else was dressed for Washington.

I enjoyed the company of women, particlarly the two on my right and left, Jennifer McBride and Dale Mathias. They are women I see out and about a lot but have not had the chance to sit and talk as we did today. Also, Ali Wentworth, who I'd love to have do a Q&A ... especially with her WASP cookbook as part of the conversation. I cherish that book, for its humor and authentic recipes. She said she would. We hugged, because that's what women do a lot of at "ladies" lunches.

My day was boot camp, home, then to a 2 1/2 hour Washington Hospital Center board meeting, hair, home, and then lunch. After lunch I walked the dog and then napped to have the energy to go back out tonight for the W Hotel party on M Street in Georgetown. But I didn't get any writing done and that pains me.

Tonight at the W Hotel party there was a lively young crowd. I like the yougin's. They love New York Social Diary and aren't ashamed to say so. The oldsters always act like they can't be bothtered by anything with the word "social" in the name." But not the young. They are enthusiasts. Had a chat with a nice guy, Mike Ponticelli of The Scene Bisnow. He told me how often he comes to Nathans for the eggs benedicts and has been for years....starting as a child with his father. Sweet stories.

Of course, at both public events today I heard over and over, "I'm so happy Nathans will stay in business." Or, "Congratulations on the new lease." The Post's Amy Argetsinger asked if anybody mention's the book contract. "No," I said. "It's totally overshadowed by all that love for Nathans." Which is okay with me. For now its Nathans moment to shine. When the time comes, I'll hope for a big spotlight on my book.

Tomorrow I should have most of the day mine for writing, but there's an afternoon meeting with a man who wants to do something with Nathans. Its intriguing, but I know better than to assume anything. But we will meet for wine and conversation. I have to finish a chapter, though. That's priority number 1.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 10 ... Of course, it's raining again. I don't know how many days straight it has been, but it feels like a long, long time. There's thunder and lightning, which means I have a little 9 pound dog here beside me, vibrating. He gets so scared ... even of the pouring rain, but the crack of thunder gets him especially upset. The weather says we'll get another inch or two of rain tonight. We should have planted crops.

I'm very sad about the security guard who was killed today at the Holocaust Museum. A man, doing his job, killed by a madman fueled by hate. My thoughts are with the dead man's family, though, who probably said good-bye to him this morning, with every expectation he would be at the dinner table tonight. Senseless gun violence, once more.

Lunch today with Black Op II at I Ricchi. A very delicious lunch. I had salad of smoked trout and lettuces and for an entree, penne pasta with peas, mushrooms and cream. In part it was to thank him for all his good work for Nathans, but also to talk about how we go forward. The landlords will be getting bids for the building on Monday, and the broker says they expect 20 or so offers, which is amazing in this market. They are very very lucky. All I hear from landlords is about tenants wanting a rent cut, tenants taking landlords to court, tenants pulling out. Today I noticed the Chico's shop had closed. Poof. Gone. I go in the retail stores and they are empty, sales staff crying in the blues.

So, if the Nathans building has attracted such strong interest, it will be a great thing for Georgetown. Get the building sold, get it renovated in an appropriate way, and get some qualify tenants - meaning NOT more mall stores. One of the groups looking at the building told Jon Moss that whoever the lucky buyer is - whoever gets picked by the landlords - will want Nathans there during the long permit process. We're game. That's why I would like to know next week, after the offers come in, just who's on top.

That's if we can make it through next week. By terms of our new lease I have to make a big payment Monday, or give notice. This weekend is critical. We almost lost the beer company today, but Jon persuaded them to hang in. It was a masterful negotiation. We lost a building tenant, but again, by terms of the new lease, I am not permitted to get a new tenant, which puts us out that rent.

The rain is beating against the bed room loud enough to drown out whatever it is on TV.

Today at boot camp we did "strong man" routines. They were funny. Tough, but funny. Pounding on tires with sledge hammers. Throwing the tires. Throwing medicine balls. Lots of calisthenics and running. Tomorrow we do the Exorcist steps! Come watch - 6 a.m.

TUESDAY, JUNE 9 ... Dinner out tonight with a dear old friend. We're both widows ... she very recently. Me, the veteran. Once upon a time, we were two couples who double dated and thought we had forever to enjoy this good life as married people. In other words, DO NOT assume anything. She's also a Virginia republican and was so hoping Terry McAuliffe would win the democratic primary. Ah, poor GOP, robbed again. We dined at La Chaumiere, once again a perfect choice, especially for a stormy night. I would love to chat further, but now must watch "Real Housewives of New Jersey." It's watchable, but it's no "RH of New York" or "OC" or "Atlanta." At least, not yet.

EARLIER... This morning felt like my brother's tornado pic was about to happen here. A tense, tight and loud storm blew in at 6 a.m., pushing the trees to their sides, crashing hail upon us, with gushing rain and lightning - at least from my view under the Whitehurst Freeway - that appeared to hit the ground at least a dozen times. The thunder was deafening, especially under the bridge, which magnified each clap. There we were, just beginning boot camp, but exercise was not necessary to kick start the adrenaline. The group of us debated whether to call it quits, but decided to keep working out. Today's core routine was with a medicine ball, plus sprints, and something called a "burpee," which combines a push up with a jumping jack - over and over. By the time we were done the rain had stopped and the dark clouds were gone.

I have a new column on New York Social Diary today. It looks at the Reagan legacy building effort of former First Lady Nancy Reagan, who was in town last week. You can read it here.

MONDAY, JUNE 8 ... A very quiet day of writing here at home interspersed with attempts to unwind the mind through walking and other personal pursuits. Started the day with 6 a.m. boot camp, which was focused on kick boxing. We had a different trainer than our usual - Jim - and she was a hoot. With one move, where you lunge back with your hands up in the air and then bring them down at the same time as lifting the knee, she said, "imagine somebody's head between your hands." Okay. That's aggressive. (I prefer Jim's mellower drilling). We did loads of upper cuts, cross cuts and pivots, plus running, crunches, push-ups. You know the routine by now.

This evening I closed the day with an hour of acupuncture. It's only the second time I've done acupuncture - the first was five years ago - and I was eager to give it another try. Now I'm sitting here, enjoying the sense of well-being. The practioner was my neighbor and friend, Renee Thibault, who is a licensed pro with a masters in the skill. I went to her. It was easy and relaxing and I felt maybe one of the needles and then for only two seconds. If I can pull together the money, I will go again at the end of the week.

One of my favorite television programs comes back on the air tonight. "Weeds," starring Mary Louise Parker. At the beginning, it seemed like my life, except for the part about being a drug dealer. She's a cash-strapped widow with kids and a will to survive. What's the dif? Owning a bar or being a drug dealer? Either way, it's all risk, and you're always having to answer to the man. She makes more money, though. Also, she has way more affairs and wears really skimpy clothing.

I have not been covering it too closely, but there's about to be a democratic primary for Virginia governor. I'm not even sure who all the candidates are, but I know that Clinton ally Terry McAuliffe is one of them. Does he have a chance? Is it just me, or wouldn't he have some liabilities? Oh, well. Here's a more encompassing piece from Politico.com.

SUNDAY, JUNE 7 ... Just home from dinner with Aubrey Sarvis in his gorgeous garden. It was my second dinner of the evening, which means I'll have to work double hard at Boot Camp. My fist dinner was at Eatonville, a new 14th and V Street restaurant that specialises in authentic southern and soul cuisine. I had a shrimp stuffed hush puppy, shrimp etouffee, and beet salad. All delicious. Also, the steamed mussels. I don't know what they put in 'em, but they are addictive. This was a graduation dinner and a launching-the-boys-off-to-beach week dinner

So, I arrived at Aubrey's already stuffed. He served spaghetti bolognese, salad, and a delicious cheese plate with fresh grapes, strawberries and cherries. Then, for dessert, vanilla gelato with sliced farmer's market fresh strawberries. Add to this the lovely garden atmosphere of dribbling fountain, fragrant flowers, mossy bricks, street sounds and intimacy. Aubrey's garden is Charleston in Georgetown.

Leo was with me, and after eating as much as Aubrey and i could, and dishing as well, and polishing off the Domaine Tempier Bandol Rose - my fave - Aubrey walked me and the little one home. We walked only three blocks, but I could have walked three miles. oh well, that's what boot camp is for.

Got some writing done today, and shipped my column to New York.

SATURDAY, JUNE 6 ... Everybody I know stops me, and some people I don't know, to wish me well about Nathans lease extension. (Not counting all the emails and phone messages). It happened last night at the home of the Ambassador of Aghanistan, at the Opera Ball at the German Embassy, at the dinner Nancy Reagan hosted Wednesday night at the Capitol, out on the street, virtually wherever I go. It is such a groundswell of happiness. I'm grateful. I thank them. Let's hope everything works out and Nathans is around for a long, long time.

Yes, I am relieved by the turn of events. Yes, I am optimistic ... but I've always been an optimist, even at the worst of times. I believe if I can just hang on, something good will happen. For one thing, we've seen a little upturn in business. Maybe people heard my plea: Nathans needs you! Nathans needs customers. And we love you for it. Today a party of more than a dozen phoned ahead for brunch and also phoned ahead with their champagne order, and we got the champagne they wanted. You ask, Nathans will (try to) accommodate.

Today was a writing day for me, but for New York Social Diary. Wrote my column and shipped photos. While I'm writing the book, we're hoping to have my column appear every Monday as a regular thing. It's not written in stone, but a plan. Most days, though, I just focus on writing the book.

This morning Amy Bondurant joined me for my walk. What a good sport. I said, "I'll be doing some Exorcist steps." She joined me. Up, down, up, down. I want to stay in tune for Monday's Boot Camp.

Now we're off to a high school graduation party. Not for my son. He's a rising senior. But for many of his senior friends, who graduate tomorrow.

This morning Amy Bondurant joined me for my walk. What a good sport. I said, "I'll be doing some Exorcist steps." She joined me. Up, down, up, down. I want to stay in tune for Monday's Boot Camp.

Now we're off to a high school graduation party. Not for my son. He's a rising senior. But for many of his senior friends, who graduate tomorrow.

FRIDAY, JUNE 5 ... The rain stopped long enough to get out of the house a couple of times today to walk the dog. But, really, it feels these days like the rain NEVER stops. My little garden has become seriously New Orleans. No complaints. Of course, being Washington, the rain will end tomorrow and not come again until September. But right now the plants are very very happy.

Yesterday was rough. A lot of dealing with the city as we finished settling the lease extension with the landlords. You know, saving Nathans comes with a price, and the price had to be paid by me, and I ain't got nuthin' left. So, yesterday was about squeezing juice out of a rock. I had to get a loan on my house to loan to Nathans so Nathans could pay the city on behalf of the building. The dentist without novocaine is less painful. So I moped a bit.

Then there was the household drama of getting young Spencer off to his prom, all done up in his father's tuxedo we had recut. The drama centered on tying his bowtie, at which I failed over and over and over and over again, and this only made him more frustrated as the clock ticked down to when he had to leave to pickup his girlfriend. It reached the point where I ran to neighbors houses, pounded on doors, looking for men, but no one was home. We went to the internet and still I couldn't get it right.

Finally we found an old black silk tie of Howard's, and that was the solution. So, in the end, Spencer looked like a movie mogul wannabe on the way to the teen Oscars.

Seriously, he was handsome and smart as can be and I was very proud, and even though he blamed me for the failure of the planet, after he left I had a sentimental moment of parenthood, missing the opportunity to have his father here for the sharing of said moment - because, what better excuse to crack a bottle of bubbly with the hubby and talk about the handsome child. Oh, well, We move on.

It rained all night. I kept the bedroom windows open and got lulled to sleep by the music of the endless rain. It was still raining at dawn and well into the day.

Tonight, dinner at the home of the Ambassador of Afghanistan, Said Jawad and his lovely wife, Shamim. The food was delicious. I wish there'd been doggy bags. From there, my pal Ned Brown and I headed over to the glorious hilltop German Embassy for the "Opera Ball," which is not really a ball (no waltzing) but more of a very dressy dessert buffet party with a band that while generous still borders on being a teeny tiny bit cruise shippy. You know, the festive crazy feast the night before the ship returns to home port? We left early after sampling some shrimp with truffle cream, chocolate dipped pretzels, cheese, and vodka. Did pause to talk with Chief Justice Roberts, who Ned apparently knows from growing up days. Gridlock in the parking lot with the valet bosses shouting commands in German. Hearing their voices made me want Gummi Bears, but I couldn't find any.

THURSDAY, JUNE 4 ... I just learned today about the passing of Polly Krakora, a woman who I liked very much. I met her through her husband, Joe, when I did a lot of work for the National Gallery of Art, and she became an instant friend. They were Georgetowners through and through. Polly was simply a dear, kind and interesting woman. When Howard died, she and Joe, but especially Polly, were there for me. If we passed each other on the street she stopped to talk. She had that rare gift of being genuinely interested in other people. When she asked, "How are you?" she meant it. Polly would have lunch with me at Nathans, and she made arrangements for me to make a film for the Georgetown Garden Club. She and Joe would take me to dinner at La Chaumiere. They were always interested in Spencer, and how my life was shaping up - or not - in the wake of Howard's death.

She was quite stylish, with gorgeous white hair, great posture and the most appealing smile. Polly and Joe lived with great style and taste. Their Georgetown home was/is a collectors dream of American folk and primitive decorative arts.

Polly had cancer surgery and lost the use of her voice. The cancer was in her throat or larynx. She used a device she held to her throat to talk with people. She seemed a bit self-conscious about it, but still showed up at parties, and was game for whatever. I was always happy to see her. She got a little white dog and was very happy walking the dog through the neighborhood. When she was out less of recent years I would see Joe walking the dog. Whenever I pass their adorable slim townhouse - a Georgetown gem - I think of Polly.

Today I noticed an obit online and it made me very sad. Here's the text:

Former Delawarean Mary Buck Krakora of Washington, D.C., a former National Republican Committee member for Delaware who later held a top post with the National Endowment for the Arts, died Thursday after a long illness. She was 82. Family members said she died in her home in Georgetown. She spent her later years in Washington, D.C., after growing up in Philadelphia and living much of her adult life in Greenville, where she owned the bookstore Books Inc.

Note: Boot Camp in the rain at dawn can be quite exhilirating. Two hundred sit ups, 100 dips, stair work, sprints, agility drills, box jumps, etc. No time to sweat. It all gets washed off by the rain. And, we're not alone. Another Boot Camp crossed our paths. Could it be a morning epidemic in Georgetown? Can't beat the value. $100 for a month of workouts. Having been a founding member of the Four Seasons Hotel gym, back in my former life, Boot Camp is the better deal ... but I do miss the steam bath.

Five thirty was a little more difficult than usual today because last night I went out - to a private candlelight dinner hosted by Nancy Reagan in Statuary Hall. It was to mark the unveiling of the statue of "Ronnie," that is new to the Capitol Rotunda. Given all, Mrs. Reagan looked good. It was a swarm of the "old" crowd, many in from sunny California.

TUESDAY, JUNE 2 ... Day four of Boot Camp. The location was the Exorcist steps. Up, down, up. down, up. down. I think I did maybe 8 laps up and down while the campers half my age did maybe 12. After about 3 laps dizziness sets in and the leg muscles get wobbly, but you press on. Also did climbing squats, lats with bands, tossing medicine balls against a wall, and running. This evening my rear feels like it got spanked with a 2x4. Oh, my. Boot Camp rules.

I read on some blog that I've been contacted to be on Real Housewives of DC. Sooo not true. No one has contacted me, nor do I expect them to or would want them to. I love the show. I'm watching the NJ edition right now, but I want to watch the DC version, not appear on it or in it. Oh, please. I'm so not qualified and mostly too old. The thought makes me laugh.

Met some friends at Nathans this evening. At 7 pm I was already too tired to eat or drink. Had some wine but not really into it. Had pasta and green beans. Full. No dessert. BUT, earlier today, to acknowledge the email below, I did go to Good Stuff Eatery for a some fries and a toasted marshmallow milkshake. Awesome. I could live on those milkshakes, but then I would have to do Exorcist steps all the long day. Anyway, at 9pm ready for bed.

Bergorf Goodman, a store I used to actually shop at and loved a lot - when that was my life - sent me a letter. I've had an account with them since 1980, and always paid my bill on time. The letter said they were reducing my spending limit because of my poor credit rating. Welcome to recession era living, with pay cuts and everything that comes with pay cuts. Or, it could be that I haven't shopped there in a long while. It hurt my feelings, but I'll get over it. Snap.

EARLIER...This email just went out to Nathans mailing list:

Here is some big news after many months of rumors, speculation, suspense and negotiations: I have signed a lease extension with Nathans landlords. I'm relieved to report this critically important development. The agreement is a tribute to people working together in tough economic times. Survival today means compromise from both sides. I feel we achieved a chance at keeping Nathans going for the foreseeable future.

Do I have a crystal ball? No. Are there shallow waters ahead. You betcha. It's called summer, especially July, August and September, typically the doldrums for the Washington restaurant industry. Tourists are grand, and we love 'em, but nobody's better for business than our own homegrown customers. So, consider this a sincere invitation from me, my son and Nathans staff of 40 managers, bartenders, kitchen and wait staff to PLEASE invest in us, give us your support, be a regular customer. We can't do it without you. But remember, as the doctor says, use it or lose it. If business doesn't pick up, my options evaporate, and shockingly fast.

To that end, we're here for you and want to hear from you. A private party, ask us. A special dinner, ask us. A food request, ask us. Fix the men's urinal. It's on our list.

Jon Moss is eager to hear from you at 202.338.2000. Also, Ann and Stuart in the evenings. You have my email. You know our location.

To Nathans landlords, thank you. To Black Op I and Black Op II, our pro-bono lawyers, thank you wrapped in hugs and kisses. To various journalists who have done supportive stories, we're grateful.

And, most of all, to the hundreds and hundreds of customers who inquire, ask what they can do, send us their Nathans anecdotes, or simply write to say "we love you," well, right back at you.

BUT REMEMBER, and I can't emphasize this enough: Commerce is like voting. If you want a business to stay open it's not enough to say so. You've got to go in and vote with your dollars. So, please, vote and vote often.

MONDAY, JUNE 1 ... Survived my third Boot Camp this morning, but totally tired and ready for bed before sunset. THAT hasn't happened in quite a while. Not thirsty, not hungry, just sleepy (though I did have some fresh lemonade, tuna and salad). Tomorrow we do the Exorcist stairs. Could be a step too far for me, but we'll see. I like the workout, but I especially like being done working out and its only 7 a.m. This morning we did sprints, push ups, squats, a lot of arm work with bands, lunges, crunches. I kept up with the youngin's, but just barely.

Or, I'm exhausted from running errands in the surburbs. It's just draining to navigate the roads of Tysons, Falls Church and environs. The traffic is slow, stodgy, endless. Had to re-up my rental car, help the teen pick out a grad gift for his GF, and then do some tedious cell phone business. How do they find the people who work in electronics stores? I wonder what comprises the qualifications? Really amazing. Still, the thick, slow traffic was more defeating than sales clerks.

EARLIER... I can't believe its June already. But then I also can't believe that Susan Boyle lost and that the last survivor of the Titantic has died. I actually interviewed Milvina Dean back in the 1980s, or whenever Robert Ballard located the sunken wreckage at the bottom of the Altantic. Dean was an infant when the Titanic sunk, traveling in 3rd class with her family. Her father, who went down with the ship, got her and her mother onto a lifeboat, which was rare for the third class passengers. He put his baby daughter in a mail bag.

I have a new column on New York Social Diary today. It is about a dinner at the British ambassador's residence, recalling especially the Bruce family. Also, a small remembrance of Brooke Shearer, who I did not know but we had friends in common who thought quite a lot of her. You can read it here. Note one small typo that will be corrected today. I refer to Anthony Moss when it should be Anthony Ross.

SUNDAY, MAY 31 ... Just a short note cuz I gotta column to do and need to get to sleep early for Boot Camp in the morning, BUT, here's the point: kudos to the President and First Lady for taking a quick trip to New York to have dinner and catch a show. Hey, naysayers, it's allowed. And they took the little jet. And there's not one thing they can do about the security, except stay shut in the White House like the previous occupant. We need a president who GOES OUT to the theater and a restaurant. We need him to inspire all of America to GET BACK OUT. It's the American way, after all. Because if we don't support the arts and restaurants and clubs and culture there won't be any waiting for us when the recession ends. My 2 cents. Gotta get some zzzzz's now.

SATURDAY, MAY 30 ... Sat in our little garden this evening. Drank very cold champagne. Went to Milano for dinner. Coulda been a casting call for "Real Housewives of DC." At one table you had Maxine Isaacs and hubby Jim Johnson. She's a real housewife of DC. At another table, Deborah Harmon and her husband, Dr. Robert Seder. She's a real housewife of, if not exactly DC, close enough. DC by Bravo standards. And a smart, nifty person. At the table on my right, the controversial philanthropist Catherine Reynolds. She'd be cool in a cast and she's legit DC. At the table to my left, Marcia Ralls, Nancy Paul and Beverly Kirk. Each totally qualified to be the "housewife" sans husband. There's one in every "housewives" cast. The terrace scene amused me. I mean, where were the Bravo producers and their cameras?

EARLIER...So, here's the wild n' crazy dream of last night. It's too much fun not to share. I'm at a dinner overseen by the one and only Carolyn Peachy. She says, "Glad you could come. I've seated you well." I take my seat on a charcoal gray suede banquet at a rectangular table for 8. Bill Gates arrives at the table and says, "Okay if I sit next to you?" Sure thing, I say. He slides in. We talk easily. I'm a little nervous, but outwardly cool. He's very friendly, intrigued by the vagaries of owning a small business, but nothing he says about business makes any sense to me, except for the part where he says his yacht is in Nice and he has to get back because there are a lot of celebrity guests aboard. So, it seems we're in France. "Dwight Schute" from NBC's The Office is seated across from us, and whenever Bill looks away Dwight gives me an evil eye and says, "I met him first. He's
mine."

After dinner Bill disappears. I'm outside at a massive high school athletic field. There are games going on, but I'm still in my cocktail dress from the dinner, and strappy heels. I think, "Well, that's it. I'll never see nice Bill Gates again." It takes forever, but I walk from the site of the dinner party up to a main gate. There are two expensive cars parked outside the gate. One is a cream-colored Bentley convertible. People are getting into it. Bill says, "Ride with us to Nice. Then we'll cruise down the coast. Bruno will get you back here." I say, "Okay. Don't worry about Bruno. I'll see if my son can pick me up." But before we depart I need to walk back to the site of the dinner party to get my things, which inexplicably (ha, what's explicable in a dream?) include an athletic bag and a new electric blue Eres swimsuit. Bruno, Bill's major domo, says they'll wait.

I can't reach Spencer, because his cell phone is busted.

The walk is endless. I wish someone would come along in a golf cart to give me a ride. I see a golf cart and ask for a lift, but Dwight says, "Oh, no. That's against policy." So I keep walking. "They'll never wait for me," I think. I get to the site, get my stuff, and start back to the gate and the cars, but it has become muddy and my strappy high heels sink in the mud, slowing me down. I have to pull my feet out of the mud to go forward. It takes forever. When I get to the gate the cars are gone. But I'm determined. I ask a random man if I can get a cab to Nice. "Certainly," he says, but none of the cab drivers will take me.

There's a frisky pair of hippies, a young man and woman in colorful and wacky clothing with wild hair. They point to an empty but eccentric taxi that could be out of The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, and say, "We'll take you." The interior is bright red with red upholstery covered with white feathers, but the man and woman remove all the feathers before they welcome me to get in. The three of us sit in the front seat. She drives while he gives directions and talks to her intensely about something. I look out the window, loving the familiar scenery, happy to be in France, looking forward to arriving at the yacht and cruising down the coast with Bill Gates and assorted celebrities. I worry a little about arriving at the gangway, and the security, but assume I'll finesse it and that, besides, they are expecting me.

Then the Blackberry on my bedside table buzzed and I woke up. So much for a yacht trip in the Med. I'm not aware of whether Gates owns a yacht (he must), rides in a Bentley or hangs out with celebrities. Nice doesn't really have a yacht harbor, but my son's cell phone is, in fact, busted.

FRIDAY, MAY 29 ... It's very funny. Virtually every woman I know has been asked to appear in "Real Housewives of Washington, DC." No kidding. Time to call it "Desperate Producers of Real Housewives of Washington, DC," because they've all said "no way." One of the city's most mentionable "hot" tamales, after being asked, sent me this message: "Everyone I know would rather jump from the top of the Washington monument than do this." And she knows everyone, at least everyone who counts or who is remotely "real."

So, I say it's time to pick gay men. ALL gay men. Only gay men. This will be seen as "out of the box" producing and might actually draw an audience and, at the same time, say something about Washington. Should I name names? Oh, you know who I mean. I don't need to spell it out. And I'm told the best players are eager to give the game a shot.

Please take a moment this morning to read about a biography of the late I.F. Stone. It's on New York Social Diary and is reported by my colleague, the photojournalist Jill Krementz. Jill also includes some of her archive photos of Stone, in addition to pics from a recent NYC book party for author D.D. Guttenplan.

I can hardly call Stone a friend, but we were in each other's company over a few meals in New York when I lived there in the early 70s, and typically when I was invited along by my good friend Nicholas von Hoffman.

No boot camp this morning. Instead, the city government.

THURSDAY, MAY 28 ... Ended my work day back in a bank, just as with yesterday, but not for two hours this time. More like 45 minutes. But may I just say: saving a small business has a lot to do with banks. (And debt). I'm not really smart enough for the task, but I did have a clever idea during the meeting, and I could tell by the look in the bank officer's eyes that he thought so, too. Later, talking to one of the Ops about an important meeting I have tomorrow morning, he said, "just work your magic, Carol." Is that what I do? If so, I have no sense of it. To my view all I do is bang around, trying to grab onto some firm sod.

I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but I need it to go my way. I need a break. Please do voodoo upon reading this.

Dinner at the British Embassy tonight for Sasha Bruce Youthworks. Really nice. Needless to say, the Brits know how to throw a dinner party. No scrimping. Particularly loved cocktails on their gorgeous terrace. Of course, they pour good champagne ... so I had, ah, a few glasses. It was hot and humid and I was thirsty. Happy to reunite with my dear buddy Henry von Eichel. We both had bouts with critical health this year - his more serious than mine - but he's looking great and beyond being on the mend. In fact, he's off to Europe for an extended stretch of time. Saw Mike and Pam Peabody, too, who are off to France. You know, I just want to touch their sleeves. Feel the fairy dust of international travel. Mike, it should be mentioned, is leading the effort to stop Marc Teren and save Scheele's Market. He's made progress, but apparently no one in Georgetown trusts Mr. Teren. That's got to be a strange way to live in your 'hood, with no one believing what you say.

EARLIER...Guess what? I made it back to Georgetown Boot Camp today. Wow. And I can still walk! Up at 5:30 a.m., in "formation" at 6 down by the river. Today's 1 hr and 15 mins of drills were aimed at speed and agility. Let's see. We ran, we jumped up on steps, we side stepped, we ran backward, we jumped over bars, hopscotched, ran some more and did four repetitions of something named after a James Bond bad guy that involved 100 push ups, 100 squats and more running. There was more but why spell it out.

Stopped at home to clean my sweat soaked self and then breakfast at Furin's with writer Annie Groer, who is doing a piece about Washington for Town & Country Magazine. She wanted to know if Washington is cool again. I said "sort of," but all the cool is contained in the room with BARACK OBAMA. Where he goes, it goes. We had a pleasant hour together.

Then all downhill from there. Nah. I'm kidding. Just dealing with some heavy stuff. But we may have news in the next 72 hours. It's looking possible. Quite possible. Fingers crossed. If it goes the way I hope it's gonna go we'll have a big party at Nathans. It'll have to be CASH BAR, but for a good cause. Stay tuned to this site.

Got out to Bethesda to run errands for Nathans - lightbulbs, concrete, that sort of stuff. Stopped in Spring Mill Bakery to get some of their insane bread. OMG. I could eat the whole loaf in one sitting (but then I'd have to do TWO boot camps tomorrow).

I got my hair blowed yesterday so I would look all spiffy for our Tewaaraton Board dinner last night for the Tewaaraton Trophy finalits, a great group, btw, and in spite of the extreme humidity I think I pulled it off. However, today, with boot camp and even more humidity, well, I've got my summer hair in full - wild and crazy. Birds could live on my head, nest and raise babies. And to think tonight I'm expected the British Embassy, where it's all about cool and sleek. Ha ha.

Again, we hope to have happy news in the next 72 hours. All my news. Even my personal news. And I'll say it now. Don't send champagne. Just send your butts to Nathans and help me to keep it open!!!

WEDNESDAY, MAY 27 .... There's been an enthusiastic response to my NYSD column today...on the subject of "The Real Housewives of Washington, DC." I'm not surprised the news prompted so much talk. Better than having to focus on becoming poorer, eh? Read the column here.

I did spend two hours at the bank today with my friendly banker Joe Reamer, trying his best to put a positive spin on my, ah, what do they call 'em, financial straits? Shallows may be more apt. Shoals? Rocks? For a while we had Jon Moss on a speaker phone, and the info he provided caused the banker's posture to go from ramrod to slumped. Ha ha. I warned him his optimism would get doused by a bucket of cold water. We haven't given up all hope, but, as your ambassador to the brink, let me tell you it's bleak out here on the edge.

One thing Joe did say, and it lifted my spirits, was, "Carol, look what you've been through. Your husband died, then the IRS, then fighting for your liquor license, then the manhole covers exploding, then 9/11, and The Georgetown Project, and (the office crisis of 06), then the market crash. You've never had it easy so why should now be different?"

Well, when its put like that I guess I see the light. But I wouldn't object to a little easy. Nah. I'd take it and run.

Stopped in Nathans. Standing at the bar was were three men, including one I'd met a couple of times before. He asked the bartender if I was on the scene, and sure enough there I was. I said hello to him and his friends. They'd come from a board meeting. One of them is soon off to Gitmo, to act as an Arab interpreter, and the man who I know is off to France. I'll take France. I did ask the interpreter - who already has served this role in Iraq - what the "detainees" say to him that they don't want the non-Arab speaking to understand. Usually, he said, just "help me. Please help me." He said they never say anything malevolent, like "I'm Osama's right hand man and if you get me out I'll give you 25 million dollars and 15 virgins." He will stay at Gitmo until it is shut down.

Again, I'll take France.

I am committed to show up for Boot Camp tomorrow at 6 a.m, (after which I surely will need to be committed.) I'm so confident I can make this work out session that I made a breakfast appointment for 8 a.m. with Town & Country Magazine. I hope they find shorts, a t-shirt and sweat to be chic.

TUESDAY, MAY 26 ... Good and interesting story in the NYTimes today about the closing of Times Square to vehicles. Several years ago Anthony Lanier proposed something similar for Georgetown. I opposed him at the time, for selfish business reasons, but on reflection I have changed my mind. Wisconsin and M Streets should be closed to traffic, and adjacent streets should have the sidewalks widened to make for a more pedestrian friendly environment. Georgetown has been moving mall-ward for the last decade, so why not take the plunge and go the distance.

Mayor Fenty should take this on as a project, to follow the lead of New York, where they are following the lead of Copenhagen. Read the Times story here.

I love the wind and the rain, but it kept me up much of the night. Not so much the weather as the dog's reaction to the occasional thunder and the rain lashing the bedroom window. His whining and little quivvering body would rouse me from sleep and I'd be staring into two wide dog eyes. This happened about 4 times. Now, of course, he's sleeping peacefully, and I will drag all day. But, you know, I love him so much - he's worth a little lost sleep.

MONDAY, MAY 25 ... Started my Memorial Day bright and early with an hour of fitness torture called "Georgetown Boot Camp." About 35 of us gathered down at the new waterfront park, where trainer/drill instructor Jim Scott POLSINELLI put us through an assortment of routines. I'm amazed I survived as well as I did. There's some soreness in my thigh muscles but at least I can walk! I thought it would be tough keeping up, because 30 of the class were under age 30, but it wasn't too bad and never humiliating. He certainly had me doing moves I would never do on my own, and I need to ramp up my fitness a bit. I've been slacking off lately, due to stress and whatever (eating and drinking as I wish, for example).

But now I have good reason to get back on top of my game, and Jim's price is not outrageous - $100 for a month, or 20 sessions. The camp occurs Mon-Thurs at 6 a.m. for one hour. They meet at Grace Street right where it intersects with Potomac below the Canal and Dean & DeLuca. There's some running, some squats, some push-ups, some sit ups, some leg work, some sprints, some core work, crunches and stretching. Bring a towel, water bottle and attitude.

I love working out at the crack of dawn, though. Back in the day I rowed a scull on the Potomac every spring, summer and fall morning at 6 a.m. Slipped my boat in the water at Thompson's and generally headed up above Three Sisters rocks. It was wonderful. No jets yet. A lot of nature; ducks and their ducklings, geese and their goslings, some fish, turtles, and occasionally other rowers. I'd return to the dock at 7, just as the urban bustle began. When we moved to the Chesapeake Bay I took my scull with me and rowed on the Bay. Wow. That's a different scene altogether, especially when a sudden chop would come up. It didn't take much to have water break over the bow of my thin sliver of a boat.

After Spencer was born I switched from rowing to running, but I still headed out as the sun came up. For about 12 years I ran every day - or 6 out of 7 days - until my back started to fight me. Then I switched to an elliptical. Now I routinely do the elliptical, weight train and walk, plus 100 sit-ups every day, and may try boot camp. I also need to cut back on the bread, pasta, pizza, milk shakes, pastries and cookies.

Otherwise, took advantage of the gray, muggy, rainy weather to stay inside and write a column. Caught the NCAA lacrosse final - Syracuse in otime - and did a little spade work on my new project that is making me quite happy. Wound up the afternoon with the third of my three celebration champagnes, and feel I've pretty well marked this occasion for the happiness it has brought to me. Now I gotta get to work.

The week ahead is quieter than recent weeks, but we do have the Tewaaraton Trophy to award to the nation's top college male and female lacrosse players on Thursday evening. That is exciting. We gather at the Museum of the American Indian and the awards are taped for TV. Our board hosts a dinner the night before with the nominees and their parents at the University Club. It's a very special week for college lacrosse.

I'm sure there's other stuff on the calendar, but I can't remember what right now.

Big congratulations to Benjamin and Katy Duboeuf on the new addition to their family, a daughter born Saturday. They play an important role in my life: Benjamin cuts my hair and Katy keeps the gray hidden, and that requires lots and lots and lots of hair dye. Yes, I earn every gray hair that sprouts, but that doesn't mean they need to be shared with the world. Maybe one of these days, but we're not there yet.

SUNDAY, MAY 24 ... The fat soft middle of a holiday weekend. Fitting the occasion, it is sunny and sultry outside. The streets are quiet. This morning I don't envy anyone who is at the beach. I envy them the ocean, but that's it. I don't envy the crowds, the crush, the traffic coming home. These empty weekends in the city give the city back to us. Now, having written that before noon, I'll soon go walkabout and find myself overwhelmed by "rolling thunder." Hundreds of motor cycles, gunning their engines so loud they could smother the roar of jets revving on an aircraft carrier. They'll roll down M Street at some point.

Still, Georgetown is beautiful. The honeysuckle are in bloom. Also lots of roses. I'm looking for my next rendezvous with some chilled champagne.

SATURDAY, MAY 23 ... Very sweet celebration dinner tonight with my buds Aubrey Sarvis and Bill McPherson. They first arrived my house for cold French champagne in the little garden. We nibbled on "Charleston Biscuits," olives stuffed with blue cheese and beautiful cashews. The bubbles were courtesy of Veuve Cliquot. We lingered talking, and lingered more, until we realized we were way past due for our rez at Cafe Milano, but I contacted Laurent and he said "OK." Sure enough, when we arrived they had our outdoor table by the door waiting for us - and every other table was booked. Lots of familiar faces. People I'd thought would be out of town. It feels like lots of people ARE out of town, except for at Milano. I hope Nathans was/is this busy. It was a brilliant evening.

We had salads - Bill and I, the beets, Aubrey, the arugula, and then we ordered three different fresh pastas that were divided between us. Makes for a full and interesting plate of pasta. With dinner we had a Pinot Noir Sancerre, which is a type of rose. Come summer all I really want is rose, preferably Domaine Tempier Bandol, or Domaine Ott Chateau de Selles. But most restaurants over-charge for the Tempier and the Domaine Ott.

Basically dinner was a big ego boost for me, quite a lot of love, with Aubrey and Bill making toasts and wishing me well. What I've achieved is not money or wealth or a jackpot, but a professional accomplishment that gets me back in the flow of my shattered career. I have hard work ahead, but I am ready. I need a reason to stop self-destructing. This is the line to my life raft. But before I piss on self destruction, let me just say this - when life is particularly painful, and hard to bear, and often discouraging and repeated dead ends, it's not the worst thing in the world to check out. I'm fairly disciplined about my absences of discipline, but its time now to get back in my groove.

This also is very good for Nathans. It's a vitamin for Nathans. A B-12 shot, if you will.

A few weeks ago I asked my shrink to send me to rehab, for which he said I did not qualify. Hmm. I didn't know qualifying was an issue. But he wouldn't do it. I'm only a wanna be rehab case, not a real rehab case. I have to rehab myself. Yesterday I was handed the reason.

Back at Milano, Janet Donovan and Kiki ryan had a table near us on the terrace, as did the headmaster of Georgetown Prep, the Rev. William George, and Tandy Dickinson ...though not together. Nearby were Joe Findaro and Marti Tirinazzi. And a parade of well-done up men and women, who appeared to have arrived from the outer boros like Maryland and Virginia.

Aubrey walked me home and it was just lovely. Breezy, warm. At home, I returned to the garden with Leo the dog to loll in the hammock and look up at the elm leaves, the stars and the indigo sky. What is in store for me? I don't have full control back, but today I have loads more than I had yesterday morning. For the first time in a decade, I have opportunity. It's like I've been starving and I just found a basket of fresh-picked, ripe and juicy mangoes, and they are mine, all mine.

Gosh, I'm happy. Alll I have to do is work hard and get it right. And to my West Coast fans, thanks for drinking D.P. in my honor.

EARLIER...Welcome to the Memorial Day weekend, and remember at all times that Nathans DOES serve rockin' hot dogs and hamburgers. Our hot dogs are primo, and the hamburgers come regular sized and as a trio of mini-burgers. Please note we were the first in DC to put mini-burgers on the menu, back in 2000, before they became all the rage. Nathans are served three to a basket w/ french fries.

Do yourself a big favor and start the weekend at Time.com, reading Paul Slansky's hilarious look at the characters who starred in the week that just was. Read it here.

Me? Last night I had a couple of glasses of champagne with a friend to celebrate my bit of good news. Will hope to do same today and tomorrow, and then must get down to business. Funny how my friends rank what would be good news to me. Very funny. Phoned Adam Mahr yesterday afternoon to say, "I've got to come see you. I have some good news." So, here's his response:

"You got a new lease?" Me: No.

"You're pregnant?" Me: No. (Hardly)

"You got married?" Me: No.

Haha. I totally surprised dear Adam, who I visited at his shop, A Mano, in upper Georgetown. Among many other things he's one of my friends who has actually been to Europe in the last few months. I have Europe yearnings, envy, whatever. The month of May always makes me think of France, Italy. When I see friends who have been or who are about to go over there I'm so happy for them. I actually worry I may never get to Europe again, unless I rob a bank or win the lottery. I can't think of any place I'd rather be in May than Antibes, France ... or, really anywhere along the Med coast. The air alone is intoxicating, and then add the food, the wine, the flowers. Sigh.

FRIDAY, MAY 22...I'm gobsmacked. It went my way! For this moment, I'm diliriously happy. Best possible news. And it didn't involve lawyers! (Not that I don't adore Black Op I and Black Op II.) This was my action, my play. Quite a cause for celebration.

EARLIER... Though it's late or, depending, early, I now slide between the crisp, cool white sheets with an anxious mind and an eager heart. I tried to explain the significance of tomorrow to my son without drama. He said, "Cool, Mom, I hope it goes your way." Perhaps we will know by noon. Or maybe a little later. If it takes the entire weekend I will beat my head to a pulp against the nearest brick wall.

Dinner tonight at Heritage, a Dupont Circle Indian restaurant, after an interlude with the Empire Salon at the National Trust for Historic Preservation. There were 10 or 11 of us. Quite a lot of good conversation. Mostly beers, water, wine and iced tea at the table, though the gentleman to my left went through three martinis. Score! I liked that. My kind of man. Nor did it diminish his repartee. Nope. The gent could hold his Grey Goose. Stoli was impressed.

I have nothing more to say of any value, except - if fate plays out - I'm at one of those tipping points in life's course....and saying even that jars my superstitions.

THURSDAY, MAY 21 ... Some fans write/call to ask what will happen to Nathans if the building sells. Honestly, a sale of the building could be great for Nathans. I'm eager to see the building sell. We've been on board with this from when it was first put on the market more than a year ago. We've never been an impediment to sale of the building. In fact, Jon Moss regularly works with the landlords brokers to help show the building. We can't even count how many prospective buyers have "kicked the tires" all these many months. Two of the prospective buyers have been in touch with us directly. One, who fell away when the market crashed, asked us to stay in place while he went through all the bureaucratic mischegas of renovation permits and finding tenants.

Another buyer, who is in the mix now, not only wants Nathans to stay but has asked if we would consider moving to the top two floors (with an elevator) and ideally add a roofdeck bar. I love that idea. The view from the roof is awesome. I immediately conjured images of the groovy Skybar at the Clark Cooke House in Newport. A third potential buyer asked if we would let him move us to a new location. Hmmm. I have no idea how to open a restaurant. The one I inherited was fully operational when it landed on me.

The truth is we've had our fingers crossed for a sale from the get go. The building needs new love. Having its well-being dependent solely on me is unrealistic. I may have the imagination and determination, but I lack the all-important resources.

If the new owner wants Nathans to go, so be it. We go.

So, that's the answer to that question.

On his The Georgetown Metropolitan website, Christopher Mathews lists his ten favorite things about Georgetown. So far, he's counted down to No. 3, which is Montrose Park. No.'s 5-10 are The Georgetown Current, Greater Dumbarton Oaks, Sara's Market, Bistro Lepic, Q Street's elm trees and te "abundance of stores." No. 4 just happens to be that little pub at the corner of Wisconsin and M, and here's what Mathews has to say about it:

Favorite Things – #4 – Nathans

Nathans is not the nicest restaurant in Georgetown. It’s not the oldest restaurant in Georgetown. And it’s not the most popular restaurant in Georgetown. But what it is is the most improbable restaurant in Georgetown.

Why improbable? It’s sitting on one of the most expensive and sought after corners in Georgetown. It’s constantly surrounded by tourists and suburbanite teens out shopping at stores they could probably find in the suburbs.

Yet despite all of that, it still continues as a quiet and peaceful refuge and a local favorite. Saddle up the the bar on a Sunday and you’ll eventually see someone you recognize come through the doors. Better yet, come to a Q & A Cafe and you’ll probably recognize your fellow diners from the neighborhood and the guest from TV (and perhaps also from the neighborhood).

So yes, some may prefer other places like Clyde’s or Martins for the tavern needs, but none of them is quite as improbable as Nathans. If Nathans does eventually close, we’ll finally see how improbable its continued existence was when some bland and generic chain snaps up the space, rips out the bar, tears up the well-worn floorboards, and turns it into just another place to buy shoes or phones or whatever.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 20 ...The American Idol finale. Have to admit I was out tonight and missed the show. (It was too lovely an evening to watch TV). But upon returning home - much like people who record sports events - I watched the show on DVR. FFDing to the end, was shocked, glad but shocked, by the outcome. After all, Kris was my pick. But here's the thing: I felt much like him. I thought Adam, who I (mean girl of me) call the Gay Elvis, was certain to win. Made it easier to cheer for Kris, the underdog. So when Kris won I felt sad for Adam. Like, it would have been a bigger emotional and vindicating victory if the underdog had lost. Postively un-American of me.

Does any of this matter? No, not at all. Both young men will do well.

What matters, perhaps, is that Nancy Pelosi is becoming a big fat joke to everyone, not just the right.

EARLIER...I'm pretty much a go along get along type of person, at least so I tell myself, but there are some events in life that are like getting tied down by elves and pelted with anvils. As you endure the experience all that's on your mind is FREEDOM. One is a mammogram, that annual torture when women are reminded their lovely breasts also are toxic, and can be squished to the size of thin bread, and the other is jury duty, the civic requirement that is supposed to make us feel patriotic and like we're giving back (after shelling out for taxes and parking tickets).

So, today I was called to jury duty, my fourth opportunity to enjoy the pleasures of Superior Court since Howard died. Who knows why I was never called before. Probably all that sheltering by my husband. Perhaps I didn't even legally exist. It's possible. Of course, once the government found out about me they made up for lost time.

DC Superior Court runs like DC, in part endearing and in part frustrating and in part comical. I was called for 8 a.m., and showed up at 8:15, and then had to return to my car because they would not let me bring in my camera (darn!). So, checked in at 8:45, took a seat and fell asleep reading the NYTimes. I must have been snoring because no one sat next to me. Or, was it my hair? I had the clever idea this morning to use the idle jury hours to condition my hair (it's not like I was going on a date), and I applied the creme, massaged it in and off I went. Well, it turned to cement, making my hair appear like poorly executed white girl dreads. Prolly kinda cute on someone 25, but at my age just plain freaky. Add to that the black tank top, the Goth pants, no maquillage.

Snapped to conscousness at 9:45 when they summoned everyone to the jury room and began to read off names and numbers. In every other instance it was just a last name and number but in my case she shouted "CAROL JOYNT" and my number. That was embarassing. I didn't want a name attached to my hair. We obediently followed her to the lobby and then to the door of a courtroom where, just before she lined us up, it was announced the power was out. They gave us a 20 minute break. Dashed outside, sat on a metal chair at a nearby Subway, aiming my face at the sun. Lovely.

Returned to the designated location on time, waited another 20 minutes for her to read off names and send people into the unknown, err, I mean courtroom, but she never read my name. When I was the only juror remaining outside the chamber, she said, "You are one too many. Go back to the jury room." Done. Promptly signed myself out for a 15 minute break and returned to the metal chair outside at the Subway. Face to the sun. (You gotta find ways to make these experiences interesting, I tell ya). Returned, cooled my jets for another 30 minutes, took another 15 minute break in the sun, and then they called another jury panel. My name and number were NOT called and at 1 p.m. our lucky leftovers were freed for a one hour lunch break.

My destination was easy, and only a 5 minute walk. Oyamel. Sat outside, at the sunny table refused by the people in business suits who sat under the shady umbrellas. I loved the sun. From the darkness into the light. Ordered a straight up margarita, handmade guacamole, and a tasty salad of jicama, oranges, melon, cucumber, mango. Nice follow to the guac. I read Carrie Fisher's musings on electric shock therapy. I mean, why the hell not? It was the pitch perfect tone between criminal court and a beautiful day.

Returned sort of on time, or as on time as anybody else at Superior Court, like 20 minutes late. From across the hall a friendly voice called out, "Carol!" It was Amy Nathan. A gentleman offered her the seat next to mine and we launched 40 minutes of hard core dish. What fun. We talked White House, White House correspondents, our children, other people's children, hair and makeup (of others), schools, courts, lawyers, parties... And then a loud voice over the blasted P.A. system called everyone back to the jury room. Those darned judges and their trials. Such an intrusion. And it's 2:45. Amy's number got called. Mine didn't. We hugged good-bye and I wished her "good luck," as if we were parting at the New York docks, she boarding the big mystery ship and me still on dry land, waving.

I plopped down next to a man who seemed to know people. Chatted him up. He said he had been a court intern. "Don't worry. They're gonna let us go. It's almost 3 o'clock. The judges don't like to start picking a jury at 3 because quitting time is 4. Easier to just start tomorrow morning." OMG. Too good to be true, and sure enough at 3 on the dot all my fellow leftovers were sent home. Back out in to the sunshine. Free for another two years.

Given my demented appearance I seriously doubt I would have been picked for a jury, anyway. I never have before, especially my first time, immediately after 9/11, when I was so paranoid about being trapped in a building downtown that I went dressed as a Taliban who bathed in too much cloying Giorgio perfume. I simply wanted them to think I was crazy. It amused me but no one else.

I might look forward to jury duty if it involved white collar crime and sending some Madoff-type off to pay his price to society. But the two times I've actually made it into a courtroom the defedants were young black men, up on first-time drug charges, wearing fear in their eyes and a too new suit bought by their public defender. Do I really want to send them into the DC prison system and no chance of rehabilitation?

Now I have to transform myself into a proper human to cover some high society brawl. My two lives. Maybe I should pull out the Taliban kit???

MONDAY, MAY 18 ... A new column on New York Social Diary today covers a range of events: tea time at St. Albans, a WPAS gala, Spinal Tap, lunch for the LeFrak family, dinner for Sheila Johnson and a Latin Opera festival. Read it here.

SUNDAY, MAY 17 ... Off to our first graduation party of graduation season ... for the son of friends. A happy time.

EARLIER...It's a Miles Davis kind of gray, gloomy Sunday afternoon, and so I've been listening to Miles, and some Chris Botti, Coltrane, Sinatra (it was just the anniversary of his passing) and more Miles. This while performing my monthly opening of the snail mail, paying bills and filling file folders with various other matters that must be dealt with. Anon. Just as with the occasional bill marked "past due" I open a few invites for events that already happened, and for a moment I feel bad, but then feel good, except when it's a close friend (but they usually, like, call me.)

Lucky me, last night I got to hear Wynton Marsalis in the flesh, playing "Embraceable You." It was part of a larger set but that song was the stand out for me. So romantic. That trumpet! Grrrr. Couples who I hope are having sex got up and danced cheek to cheek. Whenever I see couples on Saturday nights I like to assume they are having sex. I want it to be true, though most of my married friends, as I get to know them, have me feeling I am perhaps a delusional optimist.

I used to have a gyno who, after Howard died, asked at every appointment, "Are you sexually active?" Well, uh. I'm a widow, raising a child, inherited a nightmare, can't make ends meet, trying to save us from being eaten alive by a small business, and the doc wants to know about the boudoir action? No, I'd say, "Sadly, not exactly. I mostly talk to lawyers and accountants and the city government." Where are they in the foreplay manual? The medical advice I got in return was: 'Use it or lose it." I wondered if that meant I should have reckless sex with random men, go into another line of work, have a friendly hotel concierge send over some prime meat on specific nights of the week.

It's funny that when I was primtetime "sexually active," in the lusty and random sense, and rather happily so with the coolest of dudes (and a few not so cool) in my early 20s, no doc ever asked that question. But then I guess they were not worried about my failing to "use it" or "lose it." I got married, adjusted, and developed a genuine affection for fidelity, and after this decade of widow life, I still seek another chance at a Goose-like relationship. One man, one me, one sex life. Here's a truth, though: peril is a buzz kill for hot thoughts. I mean, once the Titanic was sinking was anybody on board hooking up? It didn't happen even in the movie. Goodness, Leo was shackled to a pipe and Kate was slogging through rising water.

Haha. Enough about sex. See what Miles Davis and bill-paying do to me? I'm all shook up.

SATURDAY, MAY 16 ... Nobody I know talks about it, but it's worth mentioning the special on TV last night about the drift toward death of FarRah Fawcett. The only place I've found any notable comment is the New York Post. Am I the only one who found it terribly disturbing and creepy? So much so that as I surfed the tube I kept returning to it, actually amazed that it got on the air. It had no real content except the voyeuristic sensation of watching a celebrity become weaker, thinnner, sicker and nearer to death's door. Was Patrick Swayze not available or more respectful of self? Sometimes the camera just hung on her sleeping, barely visible in the bed. I'm not sure reality TV can go much further, unless they film her actual death and make that a reason to re-air the two hours with the death scene tacked on. They could film Angelina Jolie's next birth, but we've virtually got that with her look-alike, Octomom. And, Jolie already was photographed nursing for the cover of W.

It would have made a difference if the program purported to teach viewers something about cancer treatment, but there was scant education involved.

The most bizarre parts of "Farrah's Story" were not the lingering scenes of her decline. They were topped by the deathbed visit of her son - in prison shackles - who crawled into bed with her, crying, while she was near comatose, and the countless moist tesimonials from Ryan O'Neal. Someone, somewhere should already be saying, "They don't make TV like that anymore." It is an instant classic.

EARLIER...I am my own home plumber. It's that simple. I am not yet my own electrician - common sense prevents - but I am learning to fix toilets, clogged drains and other sorts of pipe work. This is necessity, not pleasure. I can't afford to have the plumber in the house. He does a 15 minute repair and I still get charged for at least an hour's time. No can do. My house needs so much work. It's beginning to remind me of Nathans, though few buildings have a crisis-of-the-day like Nathans. When it rains Jon and I just groan, because whatever hits the roof has a way of making it into the dining room. It's not unheard of for him to phoned in the wee hours, with a night staffer reporting some similar event. Sometimes water comes into the basement from the sidewalks. That's a city problem. They've worked with us on it, but - after all - the building is Civil War era.

I don't envy Piccolo restaurant their fire. No one would, and fortunately no one was hurt. But I do envy their almost complete rebuild...courtesy of insurance $$$$.

Off to lacrosse soon. Hope the rain holds off. I do have one of my society mosh pit events tonight. Since I haven't been to one since last weekend I'm kinda looking forward to it. I miss all the Botox, lifts, plugs, pull backs, dye jobs, butt lifts and tummy tucks - and that's just on the men!

It's nice that these people let me walk among 'em, though, because there's no way I'm one of them. It can be uplifting to be among people wearing new clothing and real jewels and who probably don't have to do their own plumbing. I certainly don't let it depress me. I observe them with a benevolent and amused affection, but they are not my friends. Not that way. Not BFF mode. Sometimes I fantasize passing the hat at my table, and how maybe I could walk away with enough scratch to heave myself out of the quicksand. Then I would be my own plumber and my own fundraiser.

FRIDAY, MAY 15 ... A day of talking to advice givers. My head is full of advice. Here's the question: If I relocate my legal residence to Florida will I be happy? I know I'll be free and in sunshine, but will I be happy? Do I care? I mean, am I happy here? Are things going my way? This is one of my big decisions. Performance day is Monday and Tuesday. Many conference calls. I'm exhausted already. Move under cover of darkness. My a/c's been crapped out all day ... so the inside of my little home feels like the outdoors in Florida, maybe the Everglades. ...though I believe they do have a/c there, and gators. Snakes and gators. Remember my dream of the other night? The pythons with dragon heads? Wow. It resonates. Was it an omen?

Reporters phoning all day, too. They want to do stories about Nathans. Yikes. I'm not into that. Not now. Not at the moment. Want to get Phase XII done and then see about talking. For now I referred them to MING I and MING II. I got interviewed enough on Wednesday. The simple answers are these: we're proceeding along nicely. Optimism is the word of the day. Also, some wonderful individuals want to start "Save Nathans" campaigns. They want to file for landmark status for the bulding. That's very thoughtful. I'm grateful for the former but can't get involved in the latter, because I don't own the building. (It owns me. heh heh.) I should get landmark status. "The Miracle at Wisconsin and M." We actually have that on one of the Nathans t-shirts. But the landmark status is up to the owners of buildings, not tenants. So, let's gather up $18.5 million, buy the building, and turn it into a landmark. Snap.

On to less complicated subjects. Take a moment to read this item from the Washington Examiner today. Here. When you read it you'll get why I linked to it. And no, it's not about Nathans!!

Congratulations to all the graduates this weekend, and it couldn't come at a better time for poor deflated Georgetown. We need the bidness. There will be lots of happy restaurant and shop owners these next two days as actual customers come in our doors - parents and grandparents with money! Welcome. We're so happy to see you. Eat, drink and be merry.

THURSDAY, MAY 14... I have said it before and I'll say it again. There is no movie I relate to more than Robert Zemeckis' "Cast Away" starring Tom Hanks. It is the story of my last 12 years, without the rescue.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 13 ... Quite a treat tonight. Tenth row center at the "Unwigged and Unplugged" performance of the players known as Spinal Tap and The Folksman with some songs from "Waiting for Guffman," too, and a two-song appearance from Annette O'Toole, who is married to Michael McKean, and who with him wrote the Oscar nominated song "A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow" from "A Mighty Wind." Michael, Harry Shearer and Christopher Guest put on a powerful show. Extremely musical and funny and even, sometimes, loud - which is the trademark of Spinal Tap.

Here's something that was sweet. At my son's high school it is a big deal to make your prom invitation in a clever way. Perhaps silly, but it's the way it is. He was having quite an uphill challenge trying to come up with a clever way to invite his GF to the prom. One of his ideas was totally rejected by me, hisi sensible mother. Then, at dinner the other night with Harry, we came up with another idea. So what happened tonight, while Spencer and his GF sat in the audience with me, was that Harry and his Spinal Tap mates made the prom invitation from the stage - not once, but twice. Harry did the inviting and then later Michael asked the audience if the GF should accept. They applauded loudly. Well, it was a sweet and special moment and I hope clever enough to count. Thank goodness.

After the show we went backstage, joined by David Corn and his wife, Welmoed; Mary Ann Akers and Michael Isikoff, Bill Schneider, and other friends of Harry mostly. We also got a tour of their tour bus, which was parked inside the Warner's garage and ready to take them to Philadelphia. The driver was inside, making coffee. The bus was beautifully paneled and appointed with leather settees and chairs, two rows of bunk beds, and a leather and wood "den" in the back. I said to "C.J.," their keyboardist, "I want to leave on the bus." He said, "come with us." Oh, man, if only. He was telling me how much he loves being on tour, being on the bus, and earlier in the interview today, Michael, Chris and Harry talked about how much they like being on the bus. It's a special life. The driver said he would be taking them all the way back west.

A missed opportunity. Oh, to run off with the band.

What a good time we had today at The Q&A Cafe, thanks to the clever personalities of Harry Shearer, Michael McKean and Christopher Guest. They were interesting, amusing, relaxed. Their comfort with each other made my job as interviewer very easy. The only hard work I had to do was to not be constantly cracking up at their jokes. Michael McKean in particular. Annette O'Toole, his wife, will be young forever with that kind of humor in the house.

We talked about the formation of "Spinal Tap," and the new album the group has coming out in June, "Back from the Dead," and their two-night one-country "Round the World Tour." The two nights are in England - one performance at the Glasbury Festival and another at Wembley Arena. The new album is freshly recorded, not a remix or remastering.

An interesting story they told was about meeting Paul McCartney during rehearsals for the "Unplugged" tour. He was rehearsing in the studio nextdoor and popped over to have a listen. They were "gobsmacked," as Harry put it when Paul asked them to play a couple of tunes. Very funny story.

I asked Chris Guest about his next film project, which seems to be gestating. He said it usually takes him about three years between films. Would he ever shine his improv light on politics, I wondered. He said that he's actually thinking about doing something in that realm, though not Washington politics. For now, he said, there may be a Broadway version of "Waiting for Guffman," and Michael will be on Broadway in "Superior Donuts." Harry continues with "The Simpsons," now the longest-running sitcom in TV history, and his radio program, "Le Show."

Toward the end Harry told the story of his attempt to get Obama Administration attention focused on New Orleans, his part-time home. You'll have to watch the show to hear that doozy.

A missed opportunity. Oh, to run off with the band.

Toward the end Harry told the story of his attempt to get Obama Administration attention focused on New Orleans, his part-time home. You'll have to watch the show to hear that doozy.

The only dismaying part of the Q&A today - and the guys did not know this - is that we had 20 no-shows. Wow. That's almost a record, and very disappointng. Not just for Nathans, because its food we bought and didn't sell, but especially disappointing for the 15 or so people who wanted to be there but who we turned away because it was "sold out." Overbooked, in fact. On top of that, the 20 no-shows were people who reconfirmed. We don't know what to do. Jon and I resist charging people when they book, but it may come to that.

The no-shows owe an apology to Nathans but also to the people who didn't get in and who wanted to be there.

That said, it was just what I like The Q&A Cafe to be - about something, with people who have something to say, and who are comfortable in their skin. I look forward to seeing Michael, Chris and Harry in their show tonight at the Warner. They'll be doing the heavy lifting and I'll be doing the enjoying.

TUESDAY, MAY 12 ... Per usual, I spent today focused on tomorrow's Q&A. Lots of reading and then watched "This is Spinal Tap" twice. First time through to refresh my memory of the film, second time through to listen to the recorded commentary track that runs over the film. It was recorded much later for the "Special Edition" of the film.

People keep asking if Christopher Guest, Michael McKean and Harry Shearer are coming in character as the band "Spinal Tap." No. They are coming as themselves, which is as I would want it. These men are fascinating and creative talents who have much more to say as themselves than as their characters. Goodness, the range of talents they embody is stunning. Each is a master musician, actor, comedian, writer and, in the case of Guest and Shearer, director. They've each worked on stage, in films, in television, they've been recording artists. McKean and his wife, actress Annette O'Toole, were nominated for a Best Song Oscar for a tune they for "A Mighty Wind." Also, they are very smart.

Anyway, Chis, Harry and Michael have a reliable comic combustion when they are together. The interview will not lack humor. I just hope I can keep up.

If you have a reservation for tomorrow please know we are sold out. There will be a seat for everyone, but it will be packed ... and so be patient and understanding. Dress light. The air-conditioning is challenged these days and we can't justify buying a new air conditioner until we know what's in our future. It works fine for normal lunch and dinner, but the Q&A Cafe ALWAYS is packed, plus the TV lights. It's not miserable, it's just not refrigerator cold.

Gosh, my son and I had were fighting with each other much of last night. Bitch, bitch, bitch. Me asserting myself as his mother, and him asserting himself as a teenage boy with notions about independence. Finally, I went in my room and closed the door and told him I was naked - a total gross-out for a teenage boy - and that kept him from coming in to harass me more. He stood there knocking, though, like an 8-year-old. I said, "Okay, here are the terms. You can come in and argue with me, but you have to wear your mouthguard and I'll wear mine." I got in my jammies, got in bed, put in my mouthguard and he came in wearing his. He hopped on the bed and we resumed our argument with both of us sounding like variations on Daffy Duck. This leavened the fight considerably and after a while we said goodnight and he returned to his room.

Then to sleep. Whacked out dreams. Whatever the story was it involved snakes, large pythons with big heads like dragons, five of them, parked outside my house, and the neighbors, too. Somehow I got in where it was safe but I kept telling everyone, "there are giant snakes outside." Everyone said, "No. We don't see them. Only you see them." Who needs horror films with dreams like mine?

btw, a belated link. I happen to love Chablis. Here's a piece from the New York Times "The Pour" column that has good news for fellow lovers of Chablis. Read it here.

MONDAY, MAY 11 ...I used to sail a lot. I spent 7 months in the West Indies crewing on a 73 foot racing sailboat that was built by "Captain Nat" for J.P. Morgan in 1918. The yacht's name was "Spartan." One of the gleaming gems of Long Island Sound in her prime, and of the Caribbean in my time, matched only by the iconic "Ticonderoga." Sometimes we'd race. I developed a life-long love of the islands, just as I have for the south of France, which is where I lived after my months in the West Indies. Many lessons were learned during this time in my life - about freedom, an open mind, nature, music, native people, aquamarine water, swimming with sharks, love, late nights, good food, good wine, rum, serious money, Boulliabaise, Ray Charles, the loveliness of dawn, playboys, friendship, and how to sail a boat.

Sailing can teach many lessons about life. For example, when in rough weather with big seas and heavy winds the secret is not to back down. Trim your sails, check your lifeline, and then head into it bow first, just a little off the weather. What you don't do is run away from it, because you'll get buried, and you don't run along side it, broadside, because you'll get rolled over. Trust me, in the thick of it you will be scared half to death, praying it will just end sooner than not, and that some rogue wave doesn't come along and break all the rules, not to mention your boat and your plan. The heavy weather we face in our lives is not much different. And that's how I've dealt with today.

Also, in the middle of my day I broke away from REALITY to attend a lovely luncheon at the Smithsonian to honor multiple members of the LeFrak family of New York - Samuel and Ethel LeFrak as patriarchs - who endowed the National Museum of American History's new lobby. Two hours of good food, good company and good words about the American experience and philanthropy; getting and giving back. Then, in my pearls and dress, hopped in the rental car and drove to southeast to go to the office of the property manager who handles Nathans upstairs tenants, to get an advance on the rent. The office has bullet proof glass and multiple locks on the doors. Ah, back to reality. Or, depending, from one reality to another.

EARLIER...As I mentioned early yesterday morning, I was up till almost 4 am shipping to NY my photos from the White House Correspondents Assn dinner etc. Well, this morning the column is up right here. It's better than being there. Haha. Well, minus the good French champagne at the Vanity Fair party....but, everthing else.

SUNDAY, MAY 10 ... Happy Mother's Day all you mothers out there. I spent mine sleeping late, writing a column, enjoying a champagne brunch at the next door neighbor's, and then a long afternoon nap with the dog and the parrot. My son worked his Sunday job for part of the morning and afternoon, but did bring me roses, lemonade and cupcakes at the end of the day. And then he took a nap, too, because he'd been out till the wee hours at a rock concert at Nissan that started in the afternoon. He and his buds went on a bus - so at least they weren't driving - but it WAS a late, late Saturday night all around.

A little bit of dread is beginning to lick at the edges of my soul. I've gotta face some big issues this week, the biggest since Howard died and the business landed on me. You could compare my life sometimes to a Road Runner cartoon. You know the one's where safes, boulders and you name it fall out of the sky and land on him - and he survives! I've put it out of my mind for the full weekend, or tried to. But reality can be avoided for only so long. (Still, almost every other person I talked to last night asked, "What's happening with Nathans?")

I hate having to be strong. I really do. I don't see the reward. It's so much anguish, and I'm always left feeling the loser. I really prefer to lean one someone. I like that better. Maybe this means I'm weak, but so be it.

I joked with a friend today about how IF ONLY I could have passed the hat the Vanity Fair party last night. Ten thousand here, ten thousand there - from rich people - and maybe I could have got myself what I need to get out of his bind I'm in.

EARLIER...It is 3:30 in the morning, home at last after Vanity Fair/Bloomberg party at the French ambassador's residence. Quite a party. Everywhere you looked it was someone: Ashton Kutcher and Demi MoorE, Donald Rumsfeld, Owen Wilson, Anton Scalia, Ed Westwick and Chace Crawford, Natalie Portman, Jon Hamm, Eva Longoria, Felicity Huffman, Kyle MacLachlan, Dana Delaney, Jon Bon Jovi, Ludacris, Stevie Wonder, RICHARD BELZER, Amy Poehler, MIKE MYERS, Bradley Cooper, Jason Bateman, DONATELLA VERSACE, JONATHAN RHYS MEYERS, GLENN CLOSE, Dennis Leary, and all kinds of media people... oh well, you get the picture. Too many names to mention.

The residence was decorated beautifully with colored lights painting the trees in the garden washes of pink and blue. Everyone wanted to stand outside on the terrace because the breeze was so lovely.

Fun moment: talking to Sony boss Sir Howard Stringer, who I've known for a a while, and showing him my little Sony Cybershot that takes all the pics we put up on New York Social Diary. He reached into his tux jacket and said, "Do you want me to see if I have a check?" Oh Howard, you card.

SATURDAY, MAY 9 ... I'm not big on the White House Correspondents Dinner weekend hoopla. I'm not off to this or that brunch, this or that midday drinks fest, and yada yada. I will do some of the pre-parties at the hotel, and some of the after parties, but for the dinner itself - wisely - I will watch it on TV in comfort, re-charging batteries for the remainder of the evening. On TV I will actually see the stage up close and be able to hear what's said. When you are in the room, everyone is talking. They talk through the speeches, the awards, the comedian and sometimes the President. And there's so much security and the bathrooms are m i l e s away. The food is hotel ordinary, you can't get a cocktail in the ballroom (and you can't get a premium brand at the bars since Vanity Fair checked out of the pre-party swarm)...so, I'm sure you get the picture.

Do I want to meet anybody? Well, if I can get my pic taken with one of the cast of Gossip Girl I will rank in this household, where GG is mother/son bonding TV on Monday nights. We both know the show is preposterous, but we watch it loyally. It makes us laugh so much.

The Garden Tour is underway here in Georgetown, which means first of all no parking spaces for those of us who live here, and loads of out-of-Georgetowners wandering the streets, staring at our plants, assessing whether we measure up. Out front I have some baby mums, whch will be glorious in the fall, a lovely rose bush, which is glorious right now, and some aging pansies. (No jokes, please).

I've set aside all the grief of the past week, and the BIG decisions I must make, until Monday. It can become too much pressure. Some people get pecked to death by ducks, my fate is to be pecked to death by crows. How do you fight off crows? A scarecrow. I must find my inner scarecrow.

A friend has suggested a fundraiser to help Nathans retire its debt, the way a political candidate retires his or her debt. Would that be possible? How much could I raise? I'd be happy to do it, but I don't know anything about hosting a fundraiser. What would I have to give in return? Hmmmm. Think of the possibilities. If it could happen it would keep me from DROWNING in quicksand. Swimming in it is hard enough. I do not want to drown.

THURSDAY, MAY 7 ... I have a new column on New York Social Diary today and I call it "Four Parties and a Horse Race," because in it I go to four parties and a horse race. I tried to construct as mostly a photo story, letting the pics do the talking. I hope that scheme succeeds. It seems especially so with the Virginia Gold Cup races. Anyway, you can read it here.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 6 ... I've had such great emails today. I tell ya'all, I Love Ya. You get me through so much. You have no idea. It takes a village to pump up a saloon owner. I love hearing from you.

My dinner date this evening called while I was standing out in the rain waiting for him. "I'm stuck in traffic at Dupont Circle," he said. "I'm just going to bag it. Sorry." So, we didn't go out to dinner. Instead I walked in the rain to Griffin Market and got fresh handcut tagliatelle in Bolognese sauce and an arugula and shaved parm salad. Got home and the moment I set down the bag the phone rang. It was Black Op II. We talked for the next 45 mintes. So, it was good I was not out to dinner. I sipped some Stoli while we talked, keeping the ice moderately quiet. I don't think he wouldda cared. We're talking balls to the walls issues. With the meal - no longer on the phone - I sipped Hipolyte Sancerre.

I'm just a wreck these days. I know it. I'm not proud but I'm not ashamed, either. I don't overdue anything but I do everything.

Received an endearing email this afternoon and thought, "oops, I better write something." Here's the email:

"Sounds like you're falling in love! I hope that's what the sigh was all about."

Well, gosh. If that could be so. I'm open not only to falling in love but being swept off my feet and carried away by a Knight in shining armour to his castle high on a hill with a moat and a drawbridge. (Come to think of it, I've already done that and look where it got me?) So, I guess 86 the Knight and the castle and the drawbridge, but keep the swept off my feet and the falling in love. And soon please. Very very soon.

No. The sigh was just a general sigh welcoming the end of a long hard day that was still a long hard day even though it included a beautiful dinner at the home of French Ambassador Pierre Vimont, a host with the most if there ever was one. These past few weeks the daylight hours have been like climbing rocky cliffs with bare hands and feet. The scary part is when I stop to look down and don't see the bottom. So it's nice to get home, shut and lock the door, climb the stairs, hug my son, pet the dog, pat the bird, kick off my shoes, strip off my dress wash my face, brush my teeth, comb my hair, and climb into bed. You know, that kind of sigh. Usually I try to write something here, but last night I had only that one word. Basically, I was non verbal. It happens.

But I have perspective. As scary as life is right now, there's a chance I will survive. There are worse places to be than owning a small business that has no lease. Walk through a pediatric cancer ward, and so many permutations thereof, and you get the picture.

I'm just home from a ladies tea that was quite an experience. Hats and gloves and a harpist and cucumber sandwiches, ginger scones with cream and jam, silver tea service. It was 1955. I loved every minute. It was relentlessly civilized, like playing pretend with your girlfriends, though I didn't know many of the women there. A friend took me as her guest. "This is the direct opposite of my life right now," I said. "Mine, too," she said. We laughed. Another friend, on hearing of my plans, said "take a flask." He was right. I should have. But I did wear a hat - pulled the box out of the back of the closet - and appropriately conservative (meaning matronly) kit, and I carried my gloves. When I put them on and looked in the mirror it was laughable, so I carried them. And a handbag, too, with a little strap that hung on my forearm, like the Queen. Maybe I was channeling the Queen, or Helen Mirren playing the Queen.

I think I'm headed out to dinner tonight. I said to my friend, "Please, someplace empty and quiet. I don't feel like noise or crowds." My mood needs air and space and a chance to talk in a normal voice. Of course, many area restaurants these days are empty and quiet.

We need the sun to come back out. That's what we need.

TUESDAY, MAY 5 ... Sigh.

MONDAY, MAY 4 ... My dream last night, from which I woke in a fright about 4 a.m., went like this: I lived in a village not unlike Venice, Italy, but all the paths were variations of hallways and tunnels, and there were no windows or doors, no light. I had to get from one place to another in pitch black. Sometimes I would hear footsteps coming toward me, sharp, hard taps on a stone floor, and I would run as fast as possible, even though I had no idea where I was going. My hands would be out in front to feel for walls. I was always alone, except for the unseen footsteps coming after me. Did I call this a "dream?" Def wrong choice of word.

A new column on New York Social Diary this morning. It's about Helen Thomas, who I have known since I first started working in journalism a few thousand years ago. You can read it here.

btw, I'm the guest "live" today on News Channel 8 around 4:15 or so.

SUNDAY, MAY 3 ... I'm back in the car business. Not ownership, or leaseship but rental ship. That's a fair reflection of my day to day. I rent hope, with the wish it can become something long term. Got a kick out of Topher Mathews observation on his Georgetown Metropolitan website regarding the Spinal Tap Q&A:

This is (a) truly a bizarre and, frankly, inspired choice by Joynt. What media figures know more about getting a raw deal than Spinal Tap? Joynt and the band will have much to commiserate over.

Heh heh. Maybe I'll just run off with the band.

The fact is I'm delighted in the change of gears. We'd been doing a lot of media people. I like media people, but many are like cover bands. My preference always is for genuine newsmakers, originals, one of a kind. I hope soon to announce another groovy Q&A....it's gonna happen, just waiting for the date.

In the department of another one bites the dust: noticed today that Philadelphia Cheesesteak is very closed and boarded up on M Street. It's in the building long known as The Cellar Door building and is, coincidentally, owned by the same landlords who own the Nathans building. Their one other building is the Jewelry (or Diamond) Exchange, also known as The Georgetown Theater. (I heard late Sunday that is closed for renovations and will reopen).

At least I start the week tomorrow with my shrink. Praise The Psychotherapy, Lord, Lord. You have no idea. Then a small event tomorrow night, another one Tuesday, and Thursday, and Friday and Saturday. There's all kinds of noise being made about the upcoming White House Correspondents Association dinner, but - honestly - I find it kind of tedious. This used to be a serious and elegant dinner of print journalists, and now it's anything but, and it's become more about the before and after parties anyway. The way journalists go ga-ga because some ENTERTAINERS come to town is just beyond me. I tell ya this, all these Washington reporters go bats**t to invite an actor or singer or whatever to be at their WHCA table, but do any of these Hollywood people invite their Washington media hosts to the Oscars, the SAGs, the Golden Globes? No, they do not. There is not tit for tit. So, at least somebody has their heads screwed on, and its not the folks here in Watergate city.

To achieve ultimate outrageousness on a par with the Jonas Brothers last year, I hope someone has invited the gay Elvis of American Idol, Adam LamberT, and if he appears I hope it is in a white satin tux and that he's seated at the same table with, ah, Alan Greenspan and Andrea Mitchell, Rep. Michele Bachman, Rachel Ray, Keith Olbermann, Mike Tyson, NINA TOTENBERG, KELLY BENSIMON and Norm Coleman. Of course, that's a fantasy table, but the real deals are not much different in their whack job seating arrangements. I guess I should try to embrace the inner Vegas of it all.

The best part of the day: the little baby birds who were eggs a few weeks ago, and hatched about two weeks ago, flew out of the nest over the weekend. I saw one on the back porch today, perplexed by the rain, trying to fly high with its infantile wings. With each effort the bird got a little higher, but not without some crashes into stairs and walls. All I could do was watch and hope. It's a wild thing, after all.

EARLIER...A long walk in the rain this morning. At first listened to to the Sunday show roundtables on my transistor; won't be able to do that much longer, not after the locals go digital. Everybody backing down on Swine Flu frenzy while covering their a**es, and ramping up on Supreme Court. Turned it off after about 15 minutes of hot air. I walked along the Potomac and the C&O Canal. Gray, cool, moody, thoughtful, solitary, and very wet.

I'm now off to get a rental car. I love walking, but at a certain point a girl's gots to have wheels.

SATURDAY, MAY 2 ... My day at the races was an interesting interlude in a world where "Let's drink beer!" is a motto and an Obama button would be out of place, but the view is beautiful and the horses handsome. Since my last Gold Cup about 30 years ago, the race has moved to a new location and become five times its former size and very corporate. The officials were quite accomodating to me and my guests, my "entourage," since I was there as a "VIP " judge, one of a small group asked to sample selected tailgate parties and pick a winner. Not a bad gig for a cloudy but dry and mild Saturday afternoon. More than half the women were in cocktail dresses, high heels and elaborate hats. I wore my 7 jeans, black paddock boots and a lightweight yellow J. Crew sweater with an ancient but bold black and taxi cab yellow Hermes scarf patterned with race horses. Given the chill and the damp grass, my kit felt just right if not exactly glam.

We judged 5-6 tailgate parties. The one we visited first turned out to be the best. The ladies had made all their food from scratch, which makes a difference. What's the fun of judging a tray of sandwiches from Costco or the local deli (unless the deli is Forlano's Market). They also offered me a glass of Veuve Cliquot before I began to sample the bite size and scrumptious ham biscuits made right: thin, flat, with a slice of Smithfield ham and butter. The difference was their buns were sweet potato, and it was a good fit. I loved their crab dip. The tenderloin was gorgeous and perfectly pink ... and was served with three sauces. There was berry salad and Derby Pie, and a big bowl of fat red strawberries with a dip of chanilly creme.

Another contestant had old school southern fried chicken, the kind you can get only from making by hand. Crunchy, salty, the meat inside chewy, moist and flavorful. Also, a big bowl of shredded pork barbecue.

The most interesting tailgate spread was called "Wild," and it was two sisters who boasted that almost their entire menu was "killed by our husbands," as they pointed to the goose meat, the duck meat, the ground buffalo, the beef and lamb and the rockfish. I dunno. It was fairly in your face for a city girl who shops at Whole Foods. I know I eat "killed" food, but there's something about hearing it described that way. The hostess's name was Grace Kelly. Ole Grace and her murdered meat. I think if the presentation had been a little more "done" she might have won, though. The flaw wasn't the food, but the no frills presentation.

There was a lot of drainkin going on at this event. Many Lily Pulitzer dresses on tipsy young women, young men with round cheeks at both ends, highwaters, and a drink in each hand. My "entourage" were good company and we shared our private giggles. We also hopped in the car and headed back to down ahead of the crowd. It was time. We were tired. I was half asleep on the way home ... gladly I wasn't driving. Got home and took a nap before going back out tonight to a little Nightline reunion gathering at the Adams Morgan home of Kate Kross. Lots of folks from the past. Very warm. But I had grazed enough for one day and ate very little.

I'm delighted to announce that the legendary mock rock band SPINAL TAP will be the guests at The Q&A Cafe on Wednesday, May 13. David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean), Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest) and cuke wearing bassist Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) will be in da house. Dare I say, but this is must-be-there Q&A Cafe. Make your reservations directly with Jon Moss at 202.338.2000.

FRIDAY, MAY 1 .... This was bizarre. It rained today. I wore my rain gear. Got home from walking the dog and heard buzzing, but more like bzzzzzing. A faint but constant bzzzzzz. Thought maybe the neighbors were using a blender, but it seemed to be in the vicinity of my rain gear. I walked away from the coat and it got quieter. Walked closer to the coat and it got louder. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. Took the coat outside and shook it hard. Nothing came out. Still the bzzzzzing sound. Spread it out on the stairs and listened to every square inch. The bzzzz was in a pocket. I pounded on the jacket. Still, bzzzzz. Pounded some more. Bzzzzz. Gently opened the pocket, peered in carefully, and there was a big bumble bee! It flew out and away. Not sure which one of us was more alarmed. How did it get in my pocket? Maybe it had been living there.

Gray day. Weird, gray day. Much to deal with. But that's cool. What's a little heavy lifting? Then, in the midst of it, got an email from William McPherson. "Can you meet Aubrey (SaRvis) and me for lunch at the usual place? 1:30?" I replied: "Yes, yes, yes." And so the three of us met up for lunch at a dark back round table at La Chaumiere. A chilled white Graves, fresh asparagus in vinaigrette, Chilean sea bass with roasted artichoke, and lots of catch-up, dish and laughing. Very good for the soul. These men are so smart and interesting and such good company. Bill did win a Pulitzer for literary criticism, after all. Aubrey took a few calls that had to do with the group he runs, SLDN, who are working for the repeal of "don't ask/don't tell." It seems the White House had changed the language in their Civil Rights agenda, specifically replacing the word "repeal" the law with the word "change" the law. This made a big difference and Aubrey was working it. (By the end of the day, the White House had returned "repeal" to the language.)

We didn't leave the restaurant till 3:30 ... returning to the gray, cloudy, damp outside world. I wonder if the bee was in my pocket even then? Maybe it's a Napoleonic bee.

These are strange days, and I wish I could report on it here, and someday I will, but trust me on this. Stranger by the hour. The ducks are nibbling not only at my ankles but up to my shins ... (and you know who you are!) But the team is on it, especially Black Op I and II.

Thank goodness I got my mouthguard from the dentist. Even though it is for night time, I've been wearing it today and - seriously - there is an overall sense of less stress. Amazing. Not quite a full body massage, but something.

THURSDAY, APRIL 30 ... Pardon me, but I'm proud of myself. Three parties in one night and home by 9 o'clock. Two of them were all about food. First, the Ritz Carlton Georgetown, showing off their new "bar concept" of "small bites" and "tiny plates." (When will we return to large bites and big plates?) Liked the little bite sized paninis. Also liked my first Stoli of the evening, with cranberry juice. Tried one of the tiny vodka jello shots, but don't get it. I mean, WHAT IS THE POINT? I think you have to be younger to dig it. Then to the German Embassy, and a party for the Washington Opera, but it was nearly over when I arrived at quarter to 7. Apparently it started at 5. The Opera's thing is not going late. No food remained. Had my second Stoli with cranberry, though really only had a few sips before moving on. Took a pic of the fellow who runs the opera, Shayne Doty, and his co-hort, Susan Lehrman, and enjoyed the beautiful view from the embassy's terrace. It took us three tries to find the correct driveway and then finally got our directions from the ambassaor, who was on his way out. Party pal Francesca Craig was along and graciously handled the driving.

The most lively and crowded party was at Coco Sala, at 9th and F, an anniversary fete for Roll Call newspaper, and again lots and lots of food. Francesca, knowing the ways of members of Congress, walked in and asked the host, "Okay, who's here with their girlfriends?" Haha. Like the Ritz, many trays of mini-burgers. I passed on the mini-burgers. They really mess up the lip gloss. But I did like the mac n' cheese tarts and the chocolate mousse. Also, my third vodka. BUT, it was not to be. The glass was wet and slipped through my hand and crashed into shards on the floor. I took that as an alcohol omen. Like Audubon, after shooting the chocolate mojito, I felt I must take a sip. Better than it sounded, but still it ain't gonna become my drink. One sip enough.

btw, congratulations to Mary Ann Akers and Michael Isikoff, who are four months pregnant. I'm so happy for them. They were at the Roll Call party.

EARLIER...Certain parts of yesterday's Q&A linger. That happens with a lot of my interviews, but this one more than most. What sticks with me is Quinn Bradlee talking about his depression and how at one point he even thought of suicide. Quinn, born with a genetic disorder called Velo-Cardio Facial Syndrome, hit a low point of no hope. He felt friendless and that he would never fit in. His mother, Sally Quinn, too, talked about her bouts with depression. She said at her lowest she spent an entire week in the same clothing, including "a yellow t-shirt. And I hate yellow." Hopeless, helpless - they are awful feelings to have. Fortunately, I've lived most of my life without knowing either. Before this phase of my life, I was more like Ben Bradlee, who said his credo was "nose down, ass up, push forward." Also, he said, he believed there was nothing that couldn't be fixed. Of course, he said, that didn't work for his son. Hopelessness and helplessness set in when you realize a situation cant be fixed and that it may eat you alive. That's when you bring out the yellow t-shirt. My t-shirt is gray, and I've not yet spent an entire week in the same clothing... but.

The thing is, I've never been in a jam I couldn't get out of, but this one my husband left me could be the end of that. And here are the tough parts: the working very very hard but gaining no ground, the doing the right thing but not making a difference, the heaps of thinking outside the box and creative energy that changes nothing. In my career those were all qualities that made a difference, moved you ahead, made you a success. Oddly, in my life as a business owner, it's been just the opposite. I slide backward, I live in quicksand. It's so weird and dispiriting. I'm always in the tunnel and never seeing any light. I hate that. It's no way to live a life, especially when the people who own you aren't impressed with any of the effort nor recognize the value it has brought to them. Geez Louise.

What I tend to do these days, though, is wake up each morning and absorb more bad news.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29 ... The Q&A with the Bradlee family turned out very well. Quinn Bradlee was a winning guest, and his parents came to play, showing us all the Bradlee family dynamic. The family member in charge shifted from one to the other, but mostly between Quinn and Sally with Ben sort of laughing it off and saying, "you don't have to answer that" in regard to certain of my questions. He was mortified when I brought up Quinn's losing his virginity at a Caribbean island brothel, and his mother's behavior the next day. But, as Sally and Quinn said, its in the book.

Later in the afternoon I walked in the rain to an appt at Georgetown University and then back, ate a big chunk of chocolate for lunch, and started my column. After his lax practice, Spencer drove us to the grocery store, Balduccis, which is beginning to look like a store that is closing, which it is. Sad. Got myself some wicked good creamy goat's cheese, crackers, mache, grapes and pear for dinner. Spencer got a ready made steak dinner with mashed sweets and broccoli. It was late, we were both starving, and no time to cook. That simple.

I watched Obama while sipping some Sancerre, nibbling on cheese and lettuces, grapes and pears. Not bad. He was not bad. In time he'll have a better grasp of the opening remarks, perhaps be a little more casual, but it's not required when commenting on critical issues. He was easy and comfortable with the reporters' questions, only they seemed still stuck in another time and place. He's like up here in NOW and many of them are back there in THEN.

EARLIER...Day One without a car. Should be interesting, and okay, too, I suppose, if rain can hold off until after my appt at hairdresser's, which is a ten minute walk from home. Ten minutes in rain can do serious damage to a "do," even under an umbrella.

Again, consider joining us today for The Q&A Cafe. The best sort of gray or rainy day diversion. Phone Jon Moss at 338.2000 for a rez.

Sorry to be enigmatic, but really liked this email last night from my "party pal," Francesca Craig. "Think of the worst case scenario, you will be okay even with that. You are going to be fine, either way, you will be fine and soon this is going to be
over. this is the wrapping up of your nightmare, one way or another..." I know which way I want it to wrap up, which is the option that's best for all involved. Can force of will achieve this goal? I wonder.

Also liked this email, which I woke up to this morning, from Mr. "don't google me, I'm not famous" out on the other coast: "You may be the greatest writer describing food since Dickens, Christopher Morely, M.F.K. Fisher or Proust. Yes, have been impressed, as always, with yer various outings, and daily plights but the description of all the chow! Wow! -- I have gained fifteen E-pounds...you seem to have the ability to construct perfect little tableau of grub...both in reality and description." Nice. He gains "E-pounds," while I gain the real thing.

Like Francesca's, another little missive of positive energy. Vitamins for the psyche.

TUESDAY, APRIL 28 ... If I could bottle a night this would be the night. Last night, too. The air is smooth and warm, dry and bugless. It's fragrant, too, with the sweet smells of spring - blossoms, new leaves, fresh earth. Basically, everything coming to life. If I didn't have "homework," I'd probably loll in the hammock till midnight. Got dinner from Griffin Market: melon with speck, fresh raviolis of veal and sage, chicken milanese, arugula salad, and NO DESSERT. I ate too much dessert last night, and stopped by Dolcezza this afternoon for a "chico" of Cardomon/Honey and Avocado/Orange sorbets. Preposterous. The teenager can help himself to the Oreos. Actually, I'd like him to finish them off. He had a game today. He can use the calories.

Tomorrow: a little morning workout, prep, hair, show, unwind, walk to doctor's appt, write column. I think I actually don't have anything on the calendar tomorrow night. Phew. There was something at the British Embassy tonight, but I don't go out on the nights before a Q&A - ever. Thursday there are two things. Friday one, and on Saturday I'm supposed to attend the Gold Cup horse races out "hunt country" way to be a judge of the tailgate competition. I hope this means I get to sample the tailgate fare. How else to judge? I won't be looking at the races because I can't bear to watch animals have to perform stunts for humans. But that's me. In the past at horse races I've just kept my back to the track ... which is why I don't go to many horse races.

Anyway, if you wake up Wednesday with nothing to do at lunch time, do please call Jon Moss and make a rez for The Q&A Cafe. It's gonna be a good one.

EARLIER...An apt description of my life at this moment would be walking the high wire without a pole or a safety net. (Granted, Black Op is a type of safety net. He makes me feel safe.) This afternoon the high wire got pulled up a little higher....but I haven't lost my balance. Worth noting: I've sailed in 35 knot winds and 7 foot seas and not lost my footing. Oh, if only this were a sea with me on a sailboat. I guess if it's gonna be like this: bring on the gale force winds.

But Nathans is doing well. The winter doldrums have ended. People are going back out - a little - and Mother's Day and graduations are on the horizon. We can get some bills paid.

Sat at the counter at Wagshall's today and had a BLT, lemonade and chips. Then I walked from Tenleytown to Georgetown, a good hour's walk. Sunny, breezy, no devices in my ears ... just my own thoughts, and mapping out tomorrow's interview. C-Span wanted to come shoot it but I had to say "no." I mean, where were they the last 7 years. I'm not going to throw over DC Cable. I can't. They've been loyal and generous with staff and equipment. Now, if C-Span wants to air each show going forward, maybe we can talk.

EARLIER...Swine flu hysteria. I'm not saying don't take it seriously, but would be helpful if the media could back off a little on the alarm. I feel informed and up to date after dinner last night with a friend who is head of critical care at Washington Hospital Center. His department would be the front line of an outbreak here. WHC is informed, prepared but not freaking out. But right now anyone who comes in the ER with flu symptoms gets looked at with heightened awareness.

In a few hours I will be car-less. Not sure what that will be like, and hopefully it won't last too long. Me thinks I'm about to enter the realm of "kindness of strangers." But where is my Tennessee Williams?

MONDAY, APRIL 27 ... Some nights are just strange, seriously strange. Thankfully.

EARLIER...Unlike me, most of my friends have normal careers - doctors, lawyers, writers, business ownership, artists, public relations, media. At the gala dinner the other night, my pal Ned Brown almost didn't know where to begin in explaining what it is I do. "Well," he said, "Carol wears many hats." And then he ticked off The Q&A Cafe, Nathans (which, courteously, he pointed out I inherited), New York Social Diary columnist, ending with, "she'll tell you her first job is her son." Well, that's true. While Nathans keeps us in bread and milk - and debt - it's the mothering the provides the challenge and the reward.

Like last night, when we had a debate about something he wanted to do to which I had said simply "no." And the debate continued. And continued. Finally there was a stand-off, and then resolution, and then we went off to Ray's Hell Burger for big fat juicy mounds of fresh ground beef on good buns, mine with cheese, onions, lettuce, tomato and pickles, his with cheese, sauteed onions and mushrooms. Wow, great meal. Was I stuffed.

He drove. We put down the windows. I got to look at the city in its spring colors. We tooled around a bit. Really nice. Summer air, with the windows down, hair getting blown all over, some kind of rap on the radio. I asked, "is there anything calmer?" He said, "Mom, this is calm." We got home at twilight. He returned to homework and I returned to Quinn Bradlee's book.

I have a colleague from Washington Hospital Center coming for dinner this evening, so I went out procuring vittles today. I know we'll have the Hippolyte Sancerre, and so I'm building the meal around that - some tomato tarts with carrot and celery sticks to start, cold watercress soup, picnic style main course of chicken salad with bountiful greens, French bread, and strawberries and lemon sorbet for dessert. In other words, the opposite of the big juicy burger of last night.

Now, back to my studies.

EARLIER...I have a new column on New York Social Diary today. It's about the gala embassy dinner where I approached with doubt but ended up impressed. You can read it here.

SUNDAY, APRIL 26 ... I do have a lot of Q&A Cafe fans who want me to find a way to stream the interviews live on the web as they happen. We certainly have the cameras and the talent but I do not know the technicalities involved in getting it up. I welcomed advice.

Last night at the Society of the Cincinatti dinner I was approached by friendly older couple from South Carolina, but who, when they are in DC, love to watch The Q&A Cafe on TV. I mean, they "recognized" me, like a regular tv celeb or something. That floored me. Me, the truly minor cable star.

Aubrey came over for llunch in the garden. Peaceful. We had Bandol Rose, lots of fresh water, two different salads - shrimp with roasted peppers, and butter lettuce with mango, avacado,cherry tomatoes, and bits of roasted chicken. Also, a package of ripe and ready gooey goat's cheese with crackers and Fr bread.

I want all my girlfriends to act with me like we're shooting scenes for Real Housewives of DC. This could be fun. I'll be the nice one with the hapless existence ... but a sense of humor. I suppose.

SATURDAY, APRIL 25 ... I'm putting this entry on the "date" of Saturday though I'm writing it in the wee hours of Sunday morning. I've been out dining and clubbing, though the dining part was not an exact match with the clubbing. Like, one event was an ode to the past and the other almost too much about today.

But how's this for a jolt? Got home and could not find the bird. Ozzy lives on his perch and sleeps under a tea towel. He is not a caged bird. I returned home and NO OZZY. Looked everywhere. High and low. Simultaneously a police helicopter whirred overhead, an annoying racket, searchlight scanning the many common gardens of my block. (No doubt not looking for a parrot) I'm in an evening gown, searching. Maybe kinda comic though I was concerned. After 15 minutes, at my exasperated limit, I heard a parrot sound, a subtle coo. And then another. He was in a corner, in the room off my office area, perched on Leo's other bed (where he did, btw, make a considerable "deposit.") Something must have spooked him ...

The white tie dinner tonight was all that Hollywood imagines of a white tie dinner in Washington. Most of the men were in cutaways, or "tails," they wore medals, some on sashes around their necks. Women wore medals, too, though in the form of tiny pins. Lots of serious white hair. The women a mix out of the Barbara and Laura Bush mold, but not entirely. A few young ones - sort of, but very serious, weighted down by names that go back 200 years. A lot of firsts for me. Here's two: the first dinner I've attended with descedents of the Revolutionary War. The first dinner I've been to this century that included a prayer for both Homeland Security and the economy.

Great table. The man on my left could have been out of "24." His role in the government is to be a hacker, with a serious security clearance, but the "good" hacker who thwarts the "bad" hackers who try to invade, intercept or poison the giant American mainframe as well as various government endeavors. I called him a "pre-emptive internet detective," and he didn't disagree.

The dinner was stodgy but lovely. Face it. There's not much sexy about dinner where even the women wear medals, but it was impressive. The long gowns, the opera gloves, the chandeliers, champagne, elaborate dinner, pomp and circumstance, the honor guard, hymns to France and America, and heartfelt and patriotic toasts. We drank to President George Washington, another first for me. Absolutely no media at all. I didn't dare mention my line of work. It didn't matter. I was a legitmate guest rather than a writer on assignment, which is why this account is a little cryptic.

If I had to sum up the names, the mash up would be Reginald Botetourt van Throckmorton, IV, and the Mrs, nee Wendy Warburton Worthington.

One young woman identified herself to me thus: "I am a Conservative and then I am a Republican." Okey Dokey.

What I loved especially was the music. After dinner there was dancing to a combo that included a trumpet, a sax and a trombone, along with drummer, etc. They played Cole Porter. Guests danced the Fox Trot. In this gorgeous ballroom, in this awesome mansion, under massive chandeliers, with thunder and lightening outside, it was romantic and pointedly elegant.

I was a guest of Ned Brown, whose family goes back, back and then back further. Instead of a white tie he wore black tie, instead of medals, heh heh, he wore his Obama pin.

Interesting contrast, though, when later we got to L2 for a night cap or two at the hyper modern bar with monotnous house music,. One world and then another. Still L2 had a little period edge rockin - many of the women wore huge white Marie Antoinette wigs and 18th century dress, cut to mini-length, along with knee-high white stockings and stilettos. Now, if only I could have got those girls over to the earlier dinner, THAT would have been a meeting of cultures.

EARLIER...My son's lacrosse game was exciting, and warm - very warm under a bright sun. His team did not win but they turned an 11-1 loss into a 15-10 loss, coming on strong in the second half, especially the fourth quarter, but obviously not by enough. After four games over four days, I think they were just plain tired....which can happen even to teenagers.

FRIDAY, APRIL 24 ... My jaw is much improved this evening. I gather it is the kind of chronic condition that comes and goes, but I'm glad it came and that I went to the doc. My son has TMJ and as soon as he started using a nightguard it made all the difference. The dentist told me me he, his wife and grown children wear them as a preventative. "It keeps you younger," he said. Well, we'll see. I'd rather have the lease resolved and the stress lifted from my life, but ...

The Ops didn't have any bad news, but they didn't have any good news, either. We're in what's technically called a "stalemate."

For lunch I zipped up to the Hill to get a Toasted Marshmallow Milk Shake at Good Stuff Eatery. This is a brilliant milk shake. And, I didn't have to chew! Nibbled also on some herb and sea salt French Fries. Little bites. Also brilliant, and cooked to a crunchy golden brown. Whadda healthy lunch! Good Stuff is coming to Dupont Circle. I hope they can maintain the quality.

This evening was all about the gorgeous weather. Had to sit outside. The air was soft, soothing ... and the mosquitoes aren't with us yet. A friend visited, we shared a good bottle of chilled Sancerre and a plate of goat's cheeses from the same region as the wine. Also some Membrillo and Marconas. Later, chicken and lentils. Came inside at dark.

Tomorrow in Georgetown we have the annual House Tour, and the annual Art Show at Christ Church, and the French Market Festival above P Street! And clear sunny weather in the high 70s to low 80s. My forecast: hordes. Forget about finding parking after 11 a.m. I wish I could stay put but we have a lacrosse game, the fourth this week for my son's high school team.

btw, tonight, no jelly beans.

EARLIER...Last night at bedtime I had my usual few jelly beans. It's what I do. Good or bad. Some people medicate, some people self-pleasure, some people have actual sex with another human being ... but I pop a few jelly beans. And then WHAMMO, my jaw cramped. Awful pain. Slept okay but woke up this morning barely able to move my jaw. Raced to the dentist. He diagnosed "TMJ," otherwise known as temporomandibular joint disorder. Awful pain. All on my right side. Can't chew. "All stress related," he said. "You are grinding and clenching when you sleep. You need to de-stress, get massage, simplify your life." HAHAHAHAHA. Walk in my shoes for a day, doc. But he did add, "eating a jelly bean is the perfect situation to set it off." Should I sue Jelly Belly? I wonder if the landlords would like to spot the $500+ for the mouthguard I need to get for sleeping.

And so begins another day in the life of Stoli Lexapro. Talking to Black Op I and II in about ten minutes. I'm presuming some landlord movement. Who knows. Maybe the other side of my jaw will clench, too. Why do these legal moments always come down on Fridays? Is there some God who does not want me to have a blissed out weekend?

Tomorrow it's a white tie gala at an esteemed and imposing mansion on Massachusetts Avenue. I will wear my long black vintage Halston I bought for $200 at Revolution vintage shop in Soho. Do I splash on the YSL or the Chanel #19? Is the hair up or down? Do I wear the long gloves or no gloves? These are the gripping decisions I will focus on today ... along with whatever trauma comes my way from the OPS.

THURSDAY, APRIL 23 ... Phew. I don't have to go out again until Saturday night! How sweet is that? Not that I didn't love being out this evening at a dinner honoring Helen Thomas. I did. It was a warm, happy, sentimental dinner celebrating Helen's long career as a journalism force of nature. We first met a few days after Richard Nixon was inaugurated as president for the first time ... 1969. I'll write more about Helen and the dinner for NYSD next week.

I was happy to return home to wash off the maquillage, as always. Anybody who ever wears make-up understands when I say it feels so good to have a clean face at the end of the day. It's the first thing I do after coming home from anywhere out that requires putting on a shellacking of foundation, blush, powder, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick and a touch more powder, whether its after breakfast, lunch or dinner. Get out of the outfits, too.

Stephanie Green, who writes about fashion for The Washington Times, tonight complimented my wardrobe. That was meaningful. I can't wait to tell Pink Lulu, who helps me to find clothing on triple knockdown. Don't know what I'd do without her now that I have no budget for dresses and and kicks and all the other fun stuff. Much of what I wear is either from the dark back of the sale rack or millions of years old. I don't mind my old clothing. Well made. Memories. There's honor in old clothing.

Wrote a column today - about last night's dinner - and went to a lacrosse game out in the boonies, Potomac, Md. Though a long drive it was very pretty out there. Took the dog with me for a field trip. Also bought concrete for Nathans. Don't ask. The bags weigh as much as a dead body. Or at least they seem to.

Last night I had the most interesting, and, of course, bizarre dream. I got a job in New York with a new TV news program that was to be produced by a production company owned by Howard Stern. I was to be the show's writer. It would be "live" and on the air during the overnight (shades of "Nightwatch.") I would be working with some of his whackier characters, like "Eric the Midget" and "Beatlejuice." That was fine with me. I was ridiculous happy. And then I woke up. Har dee har har.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 22 ... I'm back from dinner and must amend earlier comments forecasting a dreary night out. Our esteemed hostess could not have been more gracious and, moreover, served wines way above the norm for DC and seated me next to an actual unmarried man who was not gay, 125 years old, a woman hater or a potential serial killer. Therefore this was an unusual evening out for me. Have I become a total shill for her, no. But hat's off to a masterful job of denying one's guest the opportunity to be snarky. Now, since I did enjoy the wine ... I will stop here and get back to nibbling my chocolate bar swag of el otra noche. Should I admit tonight's swag was a Hermes scarf? It was, but I can't chew on it.

EARLIER...Another rainy day. I like it. I'll be ready for it to end, though, around 6-ish when I have to head out to a thing - not sure exactly what - at Dean & DeLuca, and then a dinner. I look forward to the party at the market more than the dinner. Why? Lots of reasons, but mainly the dinner hostess won't let me bring my camera. Not much point in my going anywhere if I don't have my camera. And this isn't because there's no media. Hardly. This particular couple love the limelight. But she wants to use only her photographers. That's silly. The pictures are never as fun or real. But methinks it allows her to pick her best angles, which is spelled c-o-n-t-r-o-l. I never run ugly pictures of people. The additional hosts are all the oil companies, auto companies and some of the banks. You name the rogues and I'll be rubbing their, ah, elbows tonight.

The guests will be most of the usual suspects of a certain age. Job titles and raging ambition mashed up with toxic self-importance. In many ways, Washington at its best (food? spirits?) and worst. I'll stand in the corner and watch, hiding my social contempt with a big smile.

Yesterday a good friend took me to Anderson House, home of the Society of the Cincinatti, to see some of the private upstairs sleeping rooms. Wow. What a treat. Quite a lot of architectural detail to feast upon. This is a group that definitely allows no media, and I'm fine with that, but what a great story the building would make for my NYSD column. Alas. Clubs get all weird about photos. In my NYSD piece last year about the Washington power lunch I happened to run some pics from inside the Metropolitan Club. Oh, Lord, did those gentlemen get their boxers in a bunch, calling Nathans, of all places, and complaining to Jon Moss, like he could care. Like he was my minder and would dutifully inflict punishment. We both got a good laugh about that. You can read the column here. It's harmless. The pics are NBD.

The work for my column often swings between people who practically throw themselves in front of the camera and the more fun part - trying to surreptiously get my lens in where it's not necessarily welcomed. I'm always sweet about it and when not wanted go in peace. Mostly. Snapping a quickie on my way out the door.

EARLIER... Happy Day, Earth. I actually remember the first Earth Day, centuries ago. I hung out with the singer Don McLean. He actually sat thisclose and did an unplugged "American Pie." A choice memory.

Nothing to do with the dear earth, I have a new column today on New York Social Diary that contemplates the subdued DC party scene. and I take you to the Washington Life spring revel for young socialites. You can read it here.

TUESDAY, APRIL 21 ... I'm surprised I feel this way, but the Washingtonian Magazine's shirtless, swimsuited Obama cover bothers me. I find it in poor taste. They crossed some line I didn't even know existed, but now I do, and it shouldn't have been crossed. For a magazine that's usually selling "best of the suburbs" or "top 50 budget restaurants" or "where to live now," this seems like a desperate grab. Sort of like if Nathans started wet t-shirt nights. Shocking, easy and desperate. Then again, they have a right to try to stay in business. I don't have to buy it.

EARLIER...Now the story can safely be told. Yesterday I was a louche. I spent most of the day in bed. I assumed it was the beginning of a descent into trippy depression, like you see depicted on TV, where I sleep all day, wander the house in a bathrobe, sleep some more, and maybe have a shot of vodka here and there. Stoli Lexapro, indeed; a madwoman in need of a lease. Or maybe I was simply channeling Grey Gardens. Or, possibly, catching up on badly needed sleep. Regardless, I snoozed till almost 11, then pulled a basket of bills into bed and paid them - or them's that I could. Outside, it poured, slapping and splashing against the window. The dog (who I did walk earlier) was curled in a ball beside me. My sustenance was herbal tea.

Anyway, I didn't climb out of the sack, make my toilette and dress until mid-afternoon, when the rain stopped. I visited Nathans, bizzed with Jon, and returned home to write a column, make dinner, etc. At bedtime I wondered, "tomorrow will I again sleep all day?"

Nope. Got up at dawn, walked the dog, worked out, woke the child, made breakfast, got on with my morning... Guess my spiral into boozy, bathrobed and trippy depression will have to wait another day. Off to lunch with the head of the hospital where I'm on the board, then to meet a friend for a tour of a special room in a historic house, to Staples to buy staples, then pickup my world's sweetest doggy from the groomer, then a lacrosse game, then a board meeting of the Tewaaraton Foundation. Hmmm. Come to think of it, the louche life has its advantages.

Getting up and heading out means I will spend the day in my one all purpose suit. It's in the closet with my one all purpose evening gown. Both are forgettable in design...so that if I don't wear them too often people won't notice I wear them all the time. This from a woman who once had a closet just for her Chanel, and another dedicated to the YSL, Ralph Lauren, Gucci and Givenchy. Hahahahaha. I know. Cool then, embarrassing now. Note: all those frocks were sold at consignment long long ago.

MONDAY, APRIL 20 ... I have a new column on New York Social Diary today. It's about Steven Stolman and the Duke Ellington Jazz Festival. Read it here.

Some people, before getting out of, read the newspaper or have sex, or both. Me, I paid parking tickets. Before getting out of bed today I paid DC $335 in tickets. The most painful was the one for $200, which began its life as $100. I got it one morning in March at 9:27, when I parked outside Krispy Kreme to get my son a surprise box of "hot" glazed as a "bravo" for doing so very well on his SATs. As we all know, at 9:30, it's clear to park. Wouldn't you know during the 4 minutes I was inside KK the stealth meter maid hit. I tried to pay it immediately online, but got a message that said I had to wait two weeks. And then I put it aside and forgot about it and, voila, it multiplied and became $200. Now, it's done with ... but painful. The others were miscellanous. But it's all done with. Otherwise, they become pests.

Now I will get on the phone with the Virginia Juvenile Traffic Division and try to sort out this court summons for my son re the ticket I paid but forgot to sign the waiver blah blah blah. It seems my morning belongs to the DMV. I'll get out of bed for the Virginia DMV.

Love the rain, though. Could sleep until the sun comes out, but ...

MONDAY, APRIL 20 ... I have a new column on New York Social Diary today. It's about Steven Stolman and the Duke Ellington Jazz Festival. Read it here.

Love the rain, though. Could sleep until the sun comes out, but ...

SUNDAY, APRIL 19 ... I did not make it to the Scheele's meeting this evening. My son was napping on the sofa and I decided to sit and watch him and read and look at a little (quiet) TV. While he slept the bird slept on his chest. The dog was on the chair behind my head ... and so it was a happy family scene. Then, the teenager woke up and announced, "I have to go back upstairs to study." Hi. Bye. Earlier I made him a grilled virginia country ham and jarlsberg sandwich. I so wanted to take a big bite, which makes me think my tum is back to normal. Still, I was good today and at various stages ate rice, bananas, graham crackers and, for dinner, some steamed broccolini.

My chocolate addiction is back in gear, though. Tonight I unwrapped the giant bar of dark chocolate from CoCo Sala that was in the swag bag from the other night's Washington Life party. Oh my my. Took five little bites. Great stuff. Immediately looked up CoCo Sala's website. Look's interesting. Check it out here. Now I must ask my son to hide the chocolate bar for a coupla days. Or else. I luuuv chocolate.

But back to Scheele's. A good website has appeared on the scene that's of and for Georgetown. It's called The Georgetown Metropolitan and it has been covering the Scheele's story very well. It covers Georgetown in general very well. You may want to give it a bookmark. The link is
here.

This is going to be a ROUGH week, and so I am enjoying a quiet night. Many boulders rolling down the chute into my path. I'm limber and ready to dodge 'em, but it's hard work. You know. We all know. We're all in the same struggle right now, only with different boulders.

I just want everybody to know if I ever get this Nathans mess sorted out I won't be such a whiny bitch. When I get that behind me, and get out of debt, and buy a new dress, I will return to the simpatico optimist I was 12 years ago.

Hey, btw, you can watch my March interview with Mayor Fenty on DC Cable on demand online. I hope it works. I can't tell because I use a Mac and don't have Windows and you need Windows to watch it. The link is here.

SATURDAY, APRIL 18 ... If I didn't have to go out to a thing tonight I would invite over some BF's, insist they come in their most tatterted bathrobes, and then once here have us all wrap our heads in scarves and towels, fasten them with safety pins, get some cats, and watch Grey Gardens. But, alas, I will have to record the first run on HBO. But please someone ... have that party. Awesome fun Saturday night soiree. The most chic.

There's a community meeting tomorrow at 5:30 at Mt. Zion Church. The purpose? To save Scheele's Market, which has been a corner market for Georgetowners for decades and it is worth saving. If you don't know, it's at the corner of Dumbarton and 30th. It's owned by Mr. and Mrs. Lee, and the Scheele family have a contract to sell the building for $1.4 million to a man named Marc Teren. The purpose of this meeting is for community members to question Teren about his intentions for Scheele's. Do you sense the envy in my words? First of all, I'm so happy for the Lee's. I've been a customer for years. They deserve the community support. The community needs Scheele's. For the Lee's, it is their livelihood. It's a beautiful thing when a community gets involved in helping its small businesses.

i wonder if a group could form to save Nathans. Would form. I can't do it. I am the tenant. I have to work with the landlords. But the community, I imagine, has a right to find out from landlords what their intentions are with community landmarks ...like Nathans. It's commendable that Teren has agreed to appear before the Scheele's group. It was formed by neighborhood people, chiefly Mike Peabody. I am envious and I am cheering for the Scheele's.

FRIDAY, APRIL 17 ... Saw "State of Play" tonight. So much was right and so much was wrong. What was right was the portrayal of DC as a city of intrigue and occasionally stunning vistas and buildings. What was wrong was the story, something like "All The President's Men" meets that early 90s relic "The Paper." The endearing but preposterous part was the concept of a media entity holding a story for the paper rather than breaking it online. The political types were cartoon characters. Jason Bateman is good fun. The Halliburton-Blackwater angle was promising, but "24" is doing it much better. Theater packed, though. Gorgeous night. Some of the sketchy characters on the street looked like they stepped out of the film. Is that synergy?

EARLIER...Just home from the high school lacrosse game. Our team beat the other team 11-4. I stood on the sidelines, as I do at all games this year, watching through the lens of a video camera. My son has me shooting game vids for him. It's not the best way to watch the game, but he gets to sit in his room and watch the action repeatedly. It was a lovely afternoon for a game. Temps in the low 70s, no humidity, clear blue sky, bright yellow sun, soft breeze. What's better?

The mother of my son's GF came over and introduced her darling self. Isn't that cool? We stood talking, getting to know each other, driving the young ones nuts, I hope.

Get this. Some time ago the resident teen got a speeding ticket in Virginia. Along with the pointed lecture from Mom, he earned the money to pay it and I sent the check in with the ticket - after getting fully advised over the phone by the nice lady at the Juvenile Traffic Office or whatever. In other words, I was playing by all the rules. Thursday I received the check back in the mail saying I forgot to sign some waiver. They postponed the due date to June 9. Then today I receive a certified letter with a Summons to court for my son for the unpaid ticket! What the ****? What this means is another hour on the phone with Virginia on Monday ... and when I say Virginia I don't mean the nice lady who pours coffee at the deli. I mean the state with the troopers who wear the jack boots and the big hats.

Earlier lunch at Cafe Milano with Aubrey. We sat on the terrace. All the ladies who lunch were there ... parading in one after another. We could have cast Real (Desperate) Housewives of Washington, DC, while we nibbled on roasted cod. Aubrey and I laughed a lot. He was off for the weekend to the Eastern Shore. Lucky duck.

Then, of course, my tum tum said, "whoa, sister," as if I'd forgot altogether that it was on a turbulent flight just three nights ago. I must take it easy for the weekend.

Fridays can be so many things. For those of us who are carrying a load it tends to be the moment when all the cars - problems - back up on each other. As in, I sit hear thinking "How am I going to get out from under this mountain of debt?" I envy Hillary Clinton. (Yes, I wrote that.) Why? Because she has Bill Clinton to auction off to pay down her campaign debt. If I had a Bill Clinton to auction off I would do exactly the same thing. Hey, Mr. President? Wanna help a hapless saloon owner get free of her shackles?

It's an hour from twilight. Outside my window I hear a crying child who does not want to go to bed, some birds singing their muted evening songs, a distant helicopter, laughter among adults in one of the nearby gardens. It's Friday evening in Georgetown. My son was home for all of 30 minutes to shower before going out on a date with the GF. The dog is sleeping after the nice walk we took. The bird is on my shoulder, preening, ready for bed himself. Maybe a walk? Maybe a movie? Hmmm....

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 15 ... So far, so good - in terms of surviving the day. Through the miracles of make-up, adrenalin, Tylenol, and Ginger Ale I got into Nathans, did the Q&A, made it to the accountant's, wrote checks, and then treated myself to an afternoon crash on the den sofa. Woke up from a nap feeling better. There were a few moments while interviewing Jonathan Capehart when I thought I might keel over, but thankfully didn't. Inside my head it was, "What did I just ask him?" or "Where do I go from here?" But, he was interesting and amusing - and a little under the weather himself - which combined to make a perfect Q&A scenario. I even got "teabagging" into the conversation, mostly for my own amusement, but I'm sure DC Cable will cut it or bleep it. It wasn't the word so much as the context! Hello, Dick Armey.

It's still raining. I love it. I hear it outside my bedroom window. The gentle rain. Soothing. It will make me well. That, and the bowl of steamed rice which was dinner. And time. The doc says my symptoms read like a fierce but fast virus. Who needs the Martha's Vineyard diet to cleanse toxins. Get a dose of what went through me overnight. My buddy BILL MCPHERSON seems to have something similar and we've been commiserating. His remedy? Reed's Ginger Ale. I like Dr. Brown's, too.

Where would we be without friends to buck us up? Emailed Ned Brown this morning with today's challenges of health and taxes, and he wrote back: "Sounds tough. Get your hair done." Good advice. A hair pit stop has transformative powers.

You know what's tough? Q&A regular SHELLY WRIGHT today brought me a box of crunchy, buttery and nutty toffee. OMG. How insane is that? I peeked in the box and swooned. But it has to wait. It would be wrong to dive into that under the circumstances. But I'm counting the hours? Days?

EARLIER... This is how I greeted tax day (and many $$$ I just learned are owed) and the conclusion of Nathans lease at Wisconsin and M: up all night so sick you'd think I was auditioning for Linda Blair's part in a remake of The Exorcist - without having to use a special effects department. Wildly ill. Audible burbles and groans coming from inside my l'il ole bod, and that's just between bouts of being violently ill. My son was like, "did that noise come from you?"

My friend FRANCESCA CRAIG, good mother of several children as she is, phoned early to check on me. She thinks it is food poisoning. But I don't know. I was feeling a little achy before I ate.

This I know: Nathans is not closing, somehow I will pay my taxes, and today the show will go on as planned with Jonathan Capehart at The Q&A Cafe.

When all obligations are met, I will come home and collapse back in bed.

TUESDAY, APRIL 14 ... I'm trying to stay focused on prepping for JONATHAN CAPEHART tomorrow at The Q&A Cafe, but imagine what that's like when the lease on your business and livelihood expires in fewer than 12 hours. As I've made clear again and again, I'm not the brave and bold type. I'm a wimp. Yes, I'm even old fashioned, and would welcome the chance to hide behind a big strong man who could protect me from the dragons. Yes, thankfully I have Black op. And, now on the team, Black Op II. But they don't live with me. They call me on the phone. Ditto Jon Moss, who keeps the engine room stoked but has his own life. Otherwise, I'm on my own. Utterly. I'd be lying if I didn't admit this is emotional and mental torture. My life, and making a life for my son, is on the line; out of my hands and in the hands of my landlords. And we wait. Tick tock tick tock.

(Then again, after writing stuff like the above paragraph, I usually get my strength back, pick myself up and head back out to the battle.)

I know Balducci's is a rich man's market, but it's been nice having it around - I used to shop at the original in the West Village - and I'm bummed to hear it is closing. I didn't buy a lot there but I bought enough there, especially cold cuts and fruit and and cheeses. The Georgetown Safeway closes in a week or so for 18 month makeover. That will leave us the Giants, and a very rich man's market, Dean & Deluca. I'm resolved to use my neighborhood markets as much as possible. They are Scheele's and Sara's and Griffin, but they don't always have everything I need. I want to help keep THEM in business. I still mourn Neam's Market. It was the best. I know we have Whole Foods, and I go there occasionally, but more and more the foods are from so far away - Chile, Ecuador, for example - that it's become Safeway with higher prices.

I got a column done and shipped to NY. My writing foods are fresh lemonade and popcorn or pretzels. However, my dear son has taken the cheddar and caramel popcorn and hidden it from me. I should do the same thing with the money for his next tank of gas. Eh? Some children have to hide mom's weed or whiskey. My son has to hide my cheddar popcorn.

Do you crack up every time the media go on about "tea bagging" and the "tea baggers" and put up chyrons like "conservative tea bagger?" O.M.G. Is there no cultural awareness? My fave was the straight faced anchor on MSNBC who last night said - seriously - that the conservative tea baggers may need the help of "big Dick Armey." O.M.G. Ha ha ha ha ha.

I know life in Georgetown is supposed to be chic and glam. Here's the notice I just got about tonight's meeting of the Citizens Association: "The Latest on Sinkholes, Drinking Water, Hydrants, Sewer Overflow and More." Well, they do serve wine.

MONDAY, APRIL 13 ... The shrink today said, in a calm and responsible voice, and after getting an update on lease and landlords and Nathans, that my life owning Nathans is "the purest form of hell." We both laughed, but in that dark knowing way of two people who see the unvarnished reality. Outside Wagshal's, where I went to buy lemonade and a good BLT on whole wheat toast, I ran into John Cochran, who asked, "how're things?" I said, "Subtract Nathans and I'm great." That's one of my honest answers. The other, when asked "how are you?" is "I'm upright." When asked "How's Nathans?" I reply, "As far as I know, open."

Wrote a column today. Shipped it to NY. Hope it runs Wed or Thurs. I enjoyed writing it. Had to do some doctor time because my left kidney, which was the source of my frightening bout with blood poisoning in November, seems to be acting up again. What's this about? Apparently the infection can return, like a stalker you thought you got rid of once and for all. Un unh. Possibly still here. Blood tests tomorrow. I think it's stress. If stress could sell on E-Bay I'd have all the money I need to pay off the landlords.

Tomorrow gotta get Nathans taxes to the accountant so she can do my taxes, and then hope she won't hand back to me some crushing news. Jon Moss did Nathans taxes all on his own. Give that man a raise. If only I could right now, but he wouldn't let me.

Other than the shrink and BLACK OP, Jon is the only person with whom I can share the darkest side of my humor, and vice versa. We live a similar professional hell, but unlike me he can walk away at any time. He knows that. I tell him I hate him for it. Jon is my "professional soul mate." It's true. And Black Op is my "legal soul mate." Jon could be my son and Black Op could be my older brother. I rely on them.

Did not get enough time outside today, but did walk to shrink and back, and to kidney doctor...then got in car and drove and listened to Howard Stern. I've emptied everything personal out of my little car because it could be repo'd at anytime. I look out the window in the morning, hands to my cheeks, and go, "Oh my God, it's still there!"

At Wagshal's I had my BLT with Adam Mahr, who just happened to be there. His weekend of Florida sun glowed on him. He told me his own landlord stories and I laughed a lot. He gets it. Drove out to Praline - way the hell out - just to buy vegetable soup and oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies. Visited the birds in the pet shop next door. This made me feel productive. And happy. Birds make me happy. After writing my column I let Ozzy nap on my chest for 15 minutes and I, of course, fell alseep, too. Then woke up to watch a lot of political TV and read columns as prep for Capehart. More intense studying tomorrow. I took a lot of notes today.

I have a new column today on New York Social Diary. It's titled "Passion in Washington." Read it here

SUNDAY, APRIL 12 ... Gosh, what a beautiful day. I was outside as much as possible. Down by the river twice. I love the new Georgetown waterfront park. I can't wait until it's finished and possible to walk along the water from Key Bridge to Memorial Bridge. I need that proximity to water every day. Maybe it's not a West Indian beach, but it'll do for now.

I splurged for our Easter brunch and took the teenager to a lux hotel for the prix fix buffet. It was out of my price range for these days, but I wanted to give him a special occasion. Well, the good news is we talked a lot and had a good time together but I felt totally ripped off by the restaurant. It was high on cost and low on menu options. It was as if they kept the rate the same as before the crash, but got stingy about the buffet. I mean, c'mon. In a recession you try to do MORE for the customer, not less. For example, maybe include champagne. Have a little more seafood. Make a bigger effort on the desserts. My opinion.

Consider this: last night Jim, Mike and I ate at a place where the prix fix was $35 a person and we had good apps, entree and dessert. The price was right, the portions generous and the cooking excellent. Today I paid more than twice that amount per person and got taken. Again, my son and I had a good time together and so be it. Still, every dollar matters now. Every single damned dollar. You want my business then work with me. Again, at Nathans, our prix fix is $25.50 at dinner and you get choices.

This should be one of THOSE weeks. Let's see. The lease is up Wednesday. It's tax day Wednesday. I interview Jonathan Capehart on Wednesday. Which part do you think I'll like best? The landlords have our fourth proposal. They got it Friday evening. I expect we will hear something tomorrow. Got to, really. Thank heaven I have the shrink first thing. Told him I could see him only once this month and tomorrow's the day we picked. Maybe I'll walk in, sit down and scream for 45 minutes. You know? A pre-emptive meltdown. Then I guess I'll reach out to the accountant for THAT dose of bad news. I also have to write a column somewhere in there and do a lot of studying of politics. The column writing will be fine. I get lost in it when I write. Often the best part of the day.

Amazing about the captain's rescue from the Somalis. Especially after all that handwringing by the rightwingnuts that President Obama was being lame on this. He was cool and effective. Years and years and years ago, when I crewed on a 73 foot sail boat in the West Indies, we heard about pirate incidents. Sometimes too close for comfort. We didn't worry about it a lot, but knew it was out there happening, that people were getting hurt and that boats would get stolen.

If you do facebook, please "friend" me. It's become an easy way to keep people posted on what's happening with Nathans. Though I always put the big news here first.

EARLIER...Happy Easter. I observed with two long morning walks and then presented teenager with his Easter Bakset, which he still likes to dig into on Easter morning (and why not?)

Watched Sunday shows and had to check the calendar when Chris Matthews made his theme who will be the republican candidate in 2012. Whoa. Slow down. Especially since they haven't the slightest option on the horizon right now.

Well, it's a day off and its beautiful. Enjoy it.

SATURDAY, APRIL 11 ... I am corrected. Of course today represents an important part of the Chrisitan observance of Easter. It is "the great vigil." I learned this from my friends Jim and Mike, who called late last night about buying a house in Italy for $30,000. "Sure sure, guys," I said, "get it." It could have been the Chardonnay shopping, but then, Jim and Mike can be delightfully impulsive. In the winter they booked a 10 day trip to mostly Paris but also London entirely on one of those travel websites and at the last minute. Air, hotel, etc. The whole thing cost them $5,000, including their meals at one good bistro or another. They called me shortly after booking to announce their imminent departure. "Come with us!" If only I was living that particular life at the moment. Maybe again oneday.

Anyhow, I returned their call this afternoon as the sun came out. Jim said they were off to the "great vigil" this evening at St. Matthews. "Join us." I begged off. "I'm thinking of doing my vigil in a restaurant." Walked the dog and noticed my very parish is doing a vigil, too, at 7:30. Called Jim to report this bit of news. "You're on to something," I said. Fifteen minutes later Mike called me. "We've decided to blow off the vigil. Wanna go to dinner?"

That's how I got my Bible studies lesson about the great vigil. I will be sure to ask more questions during our meal, and probably encourage them to take another Paris trip. Whenever they go they do a little perfume errand for me. The last trip they picked up an ounce or two of my spring perfume, Chanel #19 The price is better and the Chanel sold in Paris is made in France, unlike much of the Chanel sold in the U.K. and U.S., which is made in Ireland or beyond. They also bring mustard. When they go to London they bring back Stilton and Jo Malone. Also, Johnson's Baby Shampoo, which is made with the old forumla and scent which I like a lot and which Johnson's scrapped in the U.S. They also like to bring me "Fairy Dish Soap," but that's their joke.

EARLIER... This is the day wedged between Good Friday and Easter Sunday and if it has a religious designation I don't know it. For now, it's a great stay in bed morning, with a steady, cool spring rain falling outside my open bedroom windows. Love this. Time to snuggle with the dog. At a whopping 9 pounds, Leo is a hot water bottle covered with white fluff.

Last night we both entertained. Neighbors Aubrey Sarvis and Ellen Charles came over for a dinner of spring pea soup, escarole salad, quiche and two Sancerres to try - to pick our fave - and Ellen brought Ulla, one of her Standard Poodles, to hang out with Leo. Yes, a rather significant size difference, like putting Janet Reno next to Danny DeVito, but they enjoyed each other's company. You know, lots of sniffing. After dessert of mixed berries, vanilla gelato and Easter egg cookies, we took a nice walk around Georgetown. Big fat full moon. The air was soft and sweet, the way it is in spring before a rain. We dropped Ellen off, and then Aubrey walked me home. Later, I went back out alone to walk around the block a few times...until it dawned on me that it was 11 o'clock and no matter how lovely the evening I could still get randomly mudgged or murdered.

Spencer just returned home from sleeping over at a friend's. "Yeah, we got to sleep early," he said, before diving back into bed. Today he works all day at Georgetown Cupcake. I can only imagine how busy they will be - even with the rain. Me? I have personal maintenance to do.

Yesterday, btw, we shipped the landlords our fourth lease proposal. We wait.

I hear Ozzy screeching for his breakfast seeds. Must get up.

FRIDAY, APRIL 10 ... It's Good Friday but that doesn't mean lease talks take a rest. There is no escape. It's the endless hypercoastER that never returns to the station ... but I'd welcome a waiter with fresh chilled martinis at every curve. Wise or not, I'm putting the whole mess out of my head for the weekend. Every now and then a girl's just gotta give it up.

Now, a major segue:

My news habits have changed significantly since the election. Whereas before Election Day I was fairly wedded to the cable yak shows - Morning Joe, Hardball, Olberman, etc. - I now barely watch them at all. The events of our world seem too sophisticated for that sort of heated, controversy-driven, and loud format. I don't learn anything from them. Too much hysteria, and with the election over, and a new president in place, I actually want to learn things that are going on, especially behind the scenes. So the cable shows are not on my radar. Don't think I've missed anything.

Perhaps if CHUCK TODD had the same prominent role on MSNBC that he had before, or if JONATHAN CAPEHART appeared daily, I would tune in, but they don't. Chuck's on the White House beat, which is a waste of his talent. I'm lukewarm about the Morning Joe hosts, and when Contessa whatever comes on MSNBC, I have to change the channel. Rachel Maddow is good, but not alone. She needs a co-host (with a sense of humor).

I still watch the Sunday shows, and in this order: Fox News Sunday, This Week, and the roundtable portion of Meet the Press. Sometimes I miss MTP altogether. It's fallen off my screen somewhat since Russert's death.

Otherwise, I read. I read mostly online, but will grab an actual newspaper from time to time.

Now I'm off to say hello to Steven Stolman, who is having lunch at Nathans. Remember his upholstery fabric clothing? Quite the rage until he decided to get out of the garment business.

EARLIER... I've been out every night this week and so last evening, after an hour at a nearby event for NYSD, it was a joy to come home, shut the door, put on jammies and t-shirt, order pizza, plop on the sofa and watch some TV. The pizza was very good. From a place at 20th and P named Alberto's. (It was recommended by Elizabeth Powell, so I was confident it would be good). I think I started to doze off at 10 p.m. Again, a great evening.

A group of economists say the recession will end in September. Do we believe that? It seems almost too good to be true. For whatever reason, business has picked up nicely at Nathans. Mostly tourists and we're grateful for them. This year's spring break brought many more out-of-towners than expected. The other night at Cafe Milano, Laurent Menoud - who runs the place like a maestro - was predicting a busier than usual summer because a lot of people won't go away. I hope he's right.

Even with a pickup, it will take most small businesses quite a while to dig out of the slump that began in October with the market crash. At Nathans we downsized to weather the storm, but still it's rough going.

THURSDAY, APRIL 9 ... Earlier today I received a profane but charming email from a "Quicksand" reader who lives, I assume, in the L.A. region of the planet and who works, it seems, in the entertainment industry. I can hear him chortling at my use of the word "works." It has cheered me so much today that I hope he won't mind my posting it here. Again, it's profane - in the best sense - and we're all grown-ups, right?

Hey, Doll,

Forewarned, am under the influence of a Down Turn Martini -- three shots Safeway Gin, a dash of caramelized Lillet found in the back of my dead agent's office fridge the weekend Rumsfeld resigned and an olive plucked from a Costco free sample of Caprese /Amalfi Tapenade/Presto Pesto garden something or the other....six bucks a tub..

Am addicted to your "Quicksand", sometimes you seem like a character from a 70's Gore Vidal D.C. novel:
"Her name was Stoli Lexapro. Stoli married well, but not Kay Graham well. But, Hell, any bony, mannish, thin-lipped, multi-i-talentlesss hag could run a newspaper inherited from "daddy"; it look a real dame to keep a saloon going founded by a dead man she still loved. A man who had a rascal's smile, a lover's heart and the business sense of Zelda Fucking Fitzgerald!."

Things are so bad in Hollywood, I read yer blog to lift my spirits....

Good luck, kid,

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx

Don't Google me, I ain't famous

With pardons to Katharine Graham, whose book I happened to like quite a lot. Better yet is that once when I was talking to her she asked me to sit down beside her, "because we have so much in common." Well, Kay, not exactly, but thank you.

That takes nothing away from Mr. XXX's email, though. Gotta point out something once and for all. Men, please, I am not still in love with my dead husband. Yes, I am stuck with his bar and that's sort of like walking into Howardville every day. I did love Howard to capacity, but he's utterly gone. I do miss parts of the life I lived with him - not having to be where the buck stops, for one - but being in love with a dead man, like being mad at a dead man, is pointless.

I can't wait to fall in love - again.

EARLIER...Happy Passover, though I'm not certain "happy" is the appropriate salutation for an occasion that has to do with the Angel of Death passing over. Grateful Passover, perhaps. And, of course, this evening Christians will be in church to worship on Maundy Thursday, and again tomorrow for Good Friday and again on Sunday for Easter.

Me? Today? The hardware store, for one thing, to get some stuff needed at Nathans. And tonight a party that has nothing to do with religious observances. Will anyone be there?

I have a cheddar and caramel popcorn hangover. No surprise, given my antics of last night. But my spirits are fine. I tend to pour my anxiety into this blog - much like a therapy session - and then it's gone. Looking forward to a sunny spring day and, yes, a chat with The Ops.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 8... If you believe that stress spawns appetites for what's dangerous for the human body - carbs, fats, whatever has loads of calories - and you also believe that cheddar and caramel popcorn belong in the dangerous category, then you understand my last several hours. I have an addiction to Garrett's cheddar and caramel popcorn - thanks to a loyal Q&A'er who gave me a tin as a Christmas present - and the addiction has ramped up in the recent days of lease talks. Oh goodness, my landlords must think I have a Swiss bank account ... given their latest demands that arrived tonight. We are now on the fourth round of an agreement. Seriously, a U.S. response to North Korea is less complicated.

The lease expires on Wednesday. What do we do? I know that legally we can just become squatters - AKA, a month to month lease with no terms - but that seems nuttier to me than the terms under which we exist already. I mean, month to month, all bets are off. We can pay whatever rent we want to pay, essay our own obligations. Still, what an insane way to run a business.

My dear darling friend RACHEL PEARSON tonight took me out to dinner at a too quiet Cafe Milano. We had wine and dished so earnestly. I was thisclose to simply crying on her shoulder. You know, When will I be free? Free to not live on cheddar and caramel popcorn, vino and Lexapro? (We actually laughed a lot instead of sobbing). If you've never walked in my shoes - high wire business lease negotiations in which I am where the buck stops - then you can't know what I'm talking about. Most think I'm tough and a miracle worker. I'm not. (If I were I'd have some super successful recession-proof business and be on spring vacation in the West Indies). And I'm not a big drinker, and don't want to become one, preferring a glass of wine with dinner and early to bed. Stress is a beast, though.

But for now it seems I eat delicious cheddar and caramel popcorn. Thank goodness lease talks don't happen often. (At bedtime my son came and took the popcorn tin away from me.)

BLACK OP I and BLACK OP II want to talk tomorrow. Sigh, and so begins the next round of negotiations. Hang in. Nathans is not closing. Period.

TUESDAY, APRIL 7, 2009 .. Do you have a son or daughter who is off to college this year or next? Or did you in the past? Or is college down the road a bit? The time-honored child-parent college tour road trip is the subject of my column on New York Social Diary. You can read it here.

Sarah Palin is barely on my radar. I, for one, do not think she is the future of the Republican party (btw, nor is Newt Gingrich). However, as we watch her personal life play out like a serial drama scripted by TMZ, it's possible to wonder if there aren't strings being pulled behind the scenes by some party types who want to do her in. She's been having some very bad weeks lately.

MONDAY, APRIL 6, 2009 ... Two margaritas tonight at the bar at the Ritz Carlton West End. Two. On a Monday. And it was a needed kick back. With my friend ADAM MAHR. We met there after he worked out at the W.E. gym and I went to a "salon" at the National Trust for Historic Preservation. The Ritz was very quiet. The restaurant was so-so busy. I hope Nathans did better. Looked across the bar and saw Ben Bradlee, Sally Quinn and Michael Kinsley head to a table. Thought of going over to say "Hi" and "look forward to the Q&A later this month," but then thought "nah, I'm chillin," and continued doing just that.

Spent an hour at Filene's Basement today. Wow. Have you ever done that? It's like hunting. It's essential to arrive mentally prepared to comb the racks, but there are finds to be found. For example, today I saw some beautiful items from Dolce and Gabbana, Chole, Valentino and Missoni. Several sections were labeled simply "From Barney's NY." Also, they had racks and racks of Vineyard Vines. Filene's is the only place where I buy my son Vineyard Vines. He loves their cotton shirts.

At check-out I chatted up the woman running the register. We agreed that Filene's is benefitting from a windfall of clothing that did not sell at upscale retail stores during the winter. She said another load will arrive on Wednesday and then again on Friday. I may return. New clothing would be a luxury. The truth is, until the warm weather arrives, I don't dress too well. I can spend an entire day in my "college kit." These are the sweats, flannels, jerseys, etc., I buy in college stores. It's not impossible for me to walk around Georgetown in my Yale sweatpants, Dartmouth t-shirt and Wharton sweatshirt. This wardrobe is particularly amusing to a person who never went to college. Ha ha ha. I love the Wharton sweatshirt in particular, given my ownership of a corner bar. Ha ha ha. I wear clothing from so many schools. I could be the NCAA of fashion.

We had a strong weekend at Nathans. Do I think the economic mess has turned around? No. Not for a second. But I like having a strong weekend and hope we see more of the same these next several weeks. Please join us for Easter, btw. And do do do make a rez for next week's Q&A with JONATHAN CAPEHART. It will be time to assess President Obama's big trip and so much more.

One last thing: today, walking on the C&O Canal, I saw the biggest black snake. It was squeezing into a fallen tree. First time I've spotted a snake on the canal.

SUNDAY, APRIL 5, 2009 ... I finally caught "I Love Ya, Man" tonight. I loved the film. That group of comic actors always deliver. I needed the laughs and enjoyed them all. Can't wait for second coming of Sacha Baron Cohen as "Bruno." I'll be there the moment it opens, even if that means midnight.

Palm Sunday. Can't believe it's already here.

Gosh, what a gorgeous evening last night. Caught an early movie with good friends - Duplicity, which I liked a lot - and then drinks and snacks at Cit Bar. We drank the least expensive wine, which was the Sancerre, but very good, and ate affordable salads and cheese, so the bill was not too crushing, and we did an even split.

Thanks to the movie I had two indulgent hours with my favorite movie star, Clive Owen. Love his onscreen presence. You can have Brad Pitt. I'll take Clive.

Earlier Nathans had a booming Saturday brunch, and I'm hoping for more of the same today. Tis the season to get out and eat - morning, noon and 8 o'clock, too. Make your Eastern plans today, and please think of Nathans for Easter brunch. It's always been a winner for that special day. Alas, we don't do Passover seders, but if restaurants did do 'em we would. I've just never heard of a restaurant that offers a Seder.

SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 2009 ... Got out of town today to The Plains, Va., for lunch at Forlano's Market. I wrote about this place in my coverage of the Virginia "hunt country" for New York Social Diary. Obviously, I think it's tops. At lunch they serve really amazing sandwiches - I had the excellent Philadelphia cheesesteak - and at dinner they do a full menu of appropriate dinner items, with wine and beer available. Today Spencer had the BLT and our friend, Sally Hosta, who lives out that way, had the crab cake on arugula.

EARLIER...Finally, a beautiful sunny morning, refreshed by the spring rains. Check out those cherry blossoms. I'm headed out of town for an awesome lunch.

Note: because some concern was expressed that I am going this alone, please understand the Ops are our lawyers. While I do talk to the landlords directly from time to time, and Jon Moss talks to one or two of them regularly, the negotiations are handled solely by lawyers - my lawyers and the landlords' lawyers. Occasionally the landlords go rogue on their lawyer, but the meaningful talks are lawyer to lawyer.

Black Op 1 has been on the case for three years. The Ops and Jon remain cool throughout the twists and turns and up and downs of every little clause in the agreement. I, on the other hand, get wildly emotional and take everything personally when I should just stand back, have faith, and let the pro's get it done. As Black Op says, "this will all work out."

FRIDAY, APRIL 3, 2009...A friend and I walked down to Nathans tonight and sat at the bar. I sipped champagne and thought about the business I've owned for a dozen years. He said, "this place is special. There are few places like it left. It's like a great little bar in a seaside village on the northeast shore or on Nantucket." I moaned about the age of stuff, and he said, "no, the weathering is good. It's authentic." He may be right. How can I tell? Lease negotiations have robbed me of the ability to see the forest from the trees. I know Nathans is worth saving. I'm trying very hard to do that, but it's hard work. Thank God for the Ops, Black Op I and Black Op II (who entered the picture only a few weeks ago). And Jon Moss. If he'd been captain of the Titantic there'd be no wreckage on the floor of the Atlantic.

I can't tell whether my landlords actually want to keep Nathans or kill Nathans. Their most recent demands make it seem like the latter. I think it's a combination of their own survival and that they just don't know what to do with me. I've never pretended to be made for this business or any business, but I've always been honest with them, and always put their interests first. I've never claimed to be more or less than I am.

This blog is called "Swimming in Quicksand" for a very specific and genuine reason: the daily struggle to keep from drowning. Ha! Ha! Ha!

EARLIER...The photos I took of the cherry blossoms are on New York Social Diary today. My new column also has photos I shot Saturday night of some very adorable models at the Fashion for Paws party, and Tuesday's annual dinner of TAPS, an organization that supports the families of military personnel who die in service to the USA. Read it here.

Here's the full "life handbook" sent to me by Jeff Pfeifle. I don't usually go for these new agey things and, in respect to items #34 and #38, first you have to believe there is a God - but this outline is relatively sane:

Health:
1. Drink plenty of water.
2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.
3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
4. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy.
5. Make time to pray.
6. Play more games.
7. Read more books than you did in 2008.
8. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.
9. Sleep for 7 hours.
10. Take a 10-30 minutes walk daily. And while you walk, smile.

Personality:
11. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
12. Don't have negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
13. Don't over do. Keep your limits.
14. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
15. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.
16. Dream more while you are awake.
17. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
18. Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner with His/her mistakes of the past. That will ruin your present happiness.
19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don't hate others.
20. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.
21. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
22. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.
23. Smile and laugh more.
24. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

Society:
25. Call your family often.
26. Each day give something good to others.
27. Forgive everyone for everything.
28. Spend time with people over the age of 70 & under the age of 6
29. Try to make at least three people smile each day.
30. What other people think of you is none of your business.
31. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

Life:
32. Do the right thing!
33. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful..

THURSDAY, APRIL 2, 2009... I got such a terrific jolt of joy tonight viewing the trailer for the new Sacha Baron Cohen film, in which he'll play his awesome character Bruno. If you thought Borat was a piece of work, wait till you meet Bruno.

Earlier today I did something totally bizarre and memorable. I drove way out 395 into deepest Alexandria, Va., to a place called Restaurant Depot. How to describe it? Costco in Blade Runner perhaps. Very hard core, stripped down and cold. Individuals of all sizes, shapes and types - Korean deli owners, women in Middle Eastern headdress, cooks in kitchen clothing, a man in a camo, another man in a tidy pink sweater and khakis, me in my "Wharton" sweatshirt - hunting up and down the mile high aisles, pushing or dragging rusty metal carts on which they piled supplies on steroids. A container of olive oil to serve 100. Buns for 50 hamburgers. A yard long tube of raw ground beef. A case with 35 pounds of butter. Fifteen pounds of cream cheese. Giant cartons of "liquid egg." A jar of Dijon Mustard big enough to feed a lunchroom of students. There were five foot tall packs of toilet paper, chairs for sale, ovens, pots and pans, coffee makers. Basically, anything and everything that could be needed by a restaurant, caterer or hotel.

But cold. So cold. Especially in the refrigerated sections. There were staff everywhere and always helpful, though I had to lift and load by myself the five cases of French fries, and everything else I bought. Lift and load items off the shelves onto the cart, and then lift and load them into the car. This is a store where an SUV, or U-Haul, comes in handy. My visit there removed any last tiny shred of glamour there may have been for me in the restaurant business. It did in a manicure, too.

Such is survival in these times of financial chaos.

Hopefully by now you've done this, but yesterday when it was sunny I visited the cherry blossoms, and they were as lovely as they always are when first in bloom. I walked around, took pictures, admired the serenity of the scene - even with the tourists - and visited some of the FDR Memorial, too. The blossoms looked like they could make it through the weekend, though rain can be hard on the fragile petals. I was especially pleased with my photos.

Drinks this evening at Bourbon Steak with my friend the banker to talk some Nathans business. Survival never rests.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 1, 2009...It seems April will be the month of The Washington Post at The Q&A Cafe. We have Jonathan Capehart scheduled for Wednesday, April 15, and then just this evening I confirmed the Bradlee family for Wednesday, April 29. Yes, the whole family: Ben Bradlee, Sally Quinn, and their son, Quinn Bradlee, who has a book coming out: "A Different Life."
How fortunate for us - and the audience; these are great guests.

On the subject of media, yesterday Chris Matthews was in Nathans for lunch. His guest was a political consultant from Los Angeles, who would have handled his campaign had he run for the U.S. Senate in Pennsylvania. He has publicly said he would stay in his job at MSNBC rather than become a candidate. I happened to stop in and sat with them for a while and tried to convince Chris to change his mind and run. The consultant said he has to decide in the next week. Chris had one reason for not running, and I did not think it is good enough. The consultant agreed. We tried, but I don't think we convinced Chris to change his mind. I wish he would. Chris would be an interesting addition to the Senate. Can you imagine him and Al Franken there together, in the same club?

The news out of London is remarkable. I mean, that people are protesting in the streets about the global economic meltdown. I've wondered for so long why that hasn't happened here? I guess it's because the G-20 are there and if the G-20 were here we'd have protests here. But where does the frustration go? What do people do with their upset? I heard a report they eat more candy. Can you imagine if the Vietnam war protesters had opted for candy over taking it to the streets?

EARLIER...The psychiatrist, so essential to my life these days, months and years of owning Nathans, said, upon hearing the latest twists and turns of lease negotiations, "Thank God you are on Lexapro." I'll second that.

Tuesday was too hyper to write anything. Morning conference call with Black Op and Black Op II. It was having the parents tell you something you don't want to hear, in fact hate having to hear, but you know they are right. That's how it's gonna be with keeping Nathans open. It will remain open, I will remain owner, but with a financial hit to me personally to cover property taxes. I have to absorb this, accept it, deal with it and move on. It's not that the liability is not mine, but for years I've told the landlords this day would come, that the lease is undoable and Nathans can't afford itself, and I asked them way back when to take back the keys and find another tenant. I'm not qualified to own a business. I am not a business person ... blah blah blah. But they did not heed my words and so, you know, here we are. Here's that rainy day.

I'm just gonna have to be a big girl and do the right thing.

MONDAY, MARCH 30, 2009 ... While my columns on New York Social Diary generally are from a personal perspective, today's column is purely personal. It's about Nathans 40th anniversary. I never planned to write about it on NYSD, but when I had lunch in NY with David Patrick Columbia he urged me to submit a piece. Read it here.

I can't figure out why we don't have more reservations for Jonathan Capehart on April 15? I planned it to be after Easter and Passover, and while it's tax day I assume most people will have their taxes done, and Jonathan is simply one of the coolest political observers out there. So, what's the issue? What am I missing? Surely, people have either read him in The Washington Post or seen him on MSNBC. We need some reservations. If you'd like to be there, please phone Jon Moss today at 202.338.2000. Thanks.

SATURDAY, MARCH 28, 2009 ...Fashion for Paws was a lot of fun. The good sport was little Leo, who arrived with me at 6, sat in my lap for make-up and hair, parked himself in a bathroom dressing room with me as I changed into my threads from 7 for all Mankind, and then waited patiently until 9:45 p.m. when we walked the runway. I found him some treats and water along the way, and he made friends with other dogs. So many very cute dogs. Lots of very attractive humans, too. I was the oldest female model by miles, but it didn't matter. The young set in DC embrace me like I'm one of them. Little do they know I'm generally sound asleep as their evening's are just beginning. But they are fun and enthusiastic and show up for everything with a positive attitude.

EARLIER...I'm such a wimp. I still haven't opened that e-mail. But the world keeps turning and the sun sets and rises. I feel if I don't open it then the news can't touch me, it won't be real. How's that for irrational thinking?

Right now I'm putting it out of my mind, because shortly little Leo and I are due at the Italian Embassy to get primped for the "Fashion for Paws" extravaganza on behalf of the Humane Society. I have no idea what to expect - for him or for me. But I'm taking his little yellow crate, which has been his safe haven since he came home a 5 pound puppy. He's all of 9 pounds now, not counting the fluff.

Sirius Satellite radio must be in shallow waters because one of their sales staff has phoned me twice today to offer discounts and deals. And I'm on the "no call" list. I felt it was a sign of real desperation that the company used humans rather than recorded voices to make the calls.

FRIDAY, MARCH 27, 2009 ... Have you ever had an email that you fear might be bad news and so you don't open it? And it just sits there in the mailbox? And every time you open the mailbox or look at your PDA, there it is, barking at you? That's what I've been going through since last night. I'm not opening the email because I don't want to deal with any bad news. How lame is that? Geez, I've become such a wimp.

Long, lovely, delicious and late lunch today at La Chaumiere with my buddies Aubrey Sarvis and William McPherson. Because I'm "modeling" in the Fashion for Paws runway show tomorrow night at the Italian Embassy, I vowed that today would be juices and salad. Then Aubrey and Bill invited me to lunch. There went the juices and salad ... replaced by fish soup, roasted rockfish, souffle and tarte tatin. Ha ha. It was fun, though. They are such good company. We made each other laugh a lot, even though much of the conversation was about death and illness, and the economy. Go figure.

Speaking of laughter, that's what I'll need lots of tomorrow night when I try to inch into some skinny jeans, a camisole and a little jacket to walk the runway with my doggy Leo. (I know, I know - this is clothing meant for a woman half my age, but we're doing this for a good cause). It'll be lots of young people and I enjoy their company. So much energy! Most of my attention will be on Leo, hoping this experience won't be too traumatic for the little fella. He got groomed today and looks like a big ball of white fluff with two dark eyes and a black leather nose.

It's worrisome that people believe the uptick in the stock market means our economic woes have begun to mend. I don't believe one necessarily indicates the other. I don't trust the stock market. It could slide again next week. It's like Washington weather.

THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 2009 ... We are just returned from our whirlwind northern college tour road trip. The last few days were spent in New York City, and before that way more north, with one full day off from college touring yesterday. That one day served as my first vacation in months and months. So, we went to lunch at Michael's on 55th Street with the gentlemen who own and run New York Social Diary, David Patrick Columbia and Jeff Hirsch. To be at Michael's with David and Jeff is the only way to be there. Everyone who is anyone stops at David's table to kiss his ring. I love to watch the parade. Though, having said that I'll say this: New York is not like it was on my last visit in the summer. It is an anxious place and people walk around with troubled faces ... at least the people who live and work there and who are connected in any way to finance, retail, restaurants, services and so forth. The shopping boulevards are quieter than usual. The people carrying shopping bags tend to be tourists.

Now, New Yorkers, being the committed, charged and forward thinking people they are, do put on their best attitude. They do try to lift it all up with camaraderie and hope. They go out. They show up. They give each other support. They don't spend a lot but they spend what they can to support businesses they love. New Yorkers always have had that marvelous team spirit.

Last night was special fun. Our dear friend Judith Owen opened at The Metropolitan Room, filling 70 minutes with her gorgeous voice, brilliant songs, plus some standards. She's just amazing. We had dinner at Beppe before with Judith, other friends, and her husband, Harry Shearer, who is about to begin a new tour with his bandmates from Spinal Tap (they'll be in Washington May 13). Last night Harry played bass in Judith's band. She is at the Metropolitan Room for two weeks. Take a trip up to see her.

Between dinner and the show we hung with the band in the "green room" of the club, Spencer worked as "roadie" during set up and sound check, and I took photos.

We stayed at a friend's apartment on 88th at Madison. He has a handsome place. Cozy, charming, elegant, huge for NYC. Staying in an apartment rather than a hotel makes me feel even more connected to the city I love so much. What a treat to be able to live there, even in times like these. NY still has its "can do" spirit. They will survive.

Usually when I depart NY I have a haul of some new clothing I can't live without and lots of treats from EAT, Lobel's, Greenberg's. Not this time. When we rolled through the Lincoln Tunnel my haul was a cup of coffee and a bran muffin from 3 Guys, and just about the same for Spencer. This doesn't mean I didn't spend money in NY. In fact, the whole trip I sort of channeled my lease anxiety into spending like a drunken sailor on the last shore leave. BUT, the money was spent only at restaurants and only on food and wine. I couldn't afford a dime of it, but ... we only get this one life and I can't be in New England or New York City or Philadelphia and NOT eat.

TUESDAY, MARCH 24, 2009 ...All of us on the "Save Nathans" team - Black Op, Black Op II, Jon Moss, me - are fighting every day to get the new lease done asap. It's looking good but that plus fighting the downturn's impact on biz is quite a lot of anxiety. I am coping by eating too much and drinking more than I should. I'm supposed to be in the Fashion for Paws fashion show Saturday night at the Italian Embassy. I'll be easy to spot: the rhino waddling down the runway with the adorable 9 pound Bichon Frise. Seriously, I have to get a handle on my adoration of all things edible.

Jon, who we should call "Saloon Sully," is holding up Nathans by pure will right now. Every day we land a jet in the Hudson. That's what it is like - every single day. No group of people has fought more passionately to save a restaurant. Ever!

Another way to deal with depression is to turn it around, which is what my dear friend JUDITH OWEN did. She made it work for her. She put it into her music. We'll see Judith perform tomorrow night in NYC. Today the New York Times gives her a much-deserved profile. Read it here. Bravo, Judith. She is such a marvelous and rare talent.

MONDAY, MARCH 23, 2009 ... Our college tour road trip continues up in the VERY cold north. It's good for my son to experience this February weather in late March ... to get a taste of what it's like up here.

It's sort of like visiting southern schools in April or September ... scorching hot!

Received this message this evening from a friend with Homeland Security connections:

We’ve just been informed that there is a simulated explosion scheduled for this Wednesday, March 25 between 9:30 am and 12:00 pm near the Key Bridge in the District.

Here is some additional information:

For the filming of a TV pilot, there will be a simulated explosion on Wednesday, March 25, 2009, between 9:30 a.m. and noon near Key Bridge in the District. The explosion will produce a 20’ to 30' fireball that will last for a very brief period, reportedly from 2 seconds to 2 minutes.

The simulated explosion will take place on the Potomac River just north of the Key Bridge and Jack's Boathouse (K/Water Street, NW under the Whitehurst Freeway). In the scene to be filmed, there will be six (6) sculling boats on the Potomac River and one of them blows up. CBS Paramount television is filming a pilot titled "Washington Field." This is a new television series about the elite Washington field office of the FBI and a team of agents with exceptional and diverse skills who are called together for only the most critical cases.

Have fun, Georgetown.

SUNDAY, MARCH 22, 2009 ... We're way up north on a mini-college tour road trip. Today we were in New Hampshire. When we departed Boston it was close to 50 degrees and sunny. Up in middle New Hampshire it was 31 degrees and we got caught in a small blizzard. Wind and snow whipping all about the car and us when we got outside to walk a campus. OMG. I don't know that I could survive spring in New Hampshire, but then it's not about me, is it? On the bright side, had a great BLT at a village sandwich shop. They know their sandwiches in New England. They know counter restaurants and good sandwiches. Yesterday had a great hot dog and chocolate milk shake in Danbury, Ct. Last night ate Scrod for dinner and flaming Baked Alaska for dessert. Wow.

Did not read newspapers - no time this morning before hitting the "road again" - but have just done a quick read of some newspapers online, particularly NY Times, and all of them suggest imminent cannibalism among democrats, liberals, fans of President Barack Obama; really, much of the human race as we cope with the financial meltdown. They'll eat Obama first and then each other. Scary stuff.

At dinner last night in Boston I asked our waiter "how's business?" Terrible, he said. "We've cut out lunch and dinner has been slow, slow, slow." And this is one of the city's longer-lasting and better known restaurants. Today we noticed an under-construction highway-side shopping center that's been boarded up. Brand new, half done and boarded up.

A sure sign of a recession: our hotel left a box on chocolates on my pillow at turndown. I opened the box and all four chocolates were half eaten and wrapped back in their foils!

My back is killing me. Ouch! After the Nathans 40th anniversary party, where I had ONE glass of champagne, and only ONE, my son, his girlfriend and I walked to the PNC parking lot to get the car. My shoes had leather soles, and I guess they picked up wax off the highly polished Nathans' floors. I'm not sure how they got slippery, but they were like ice skates. In the middle of the parking lot my feet slipped out from under me, shot up in the air, and I landed hard on my derriere, back, left arm, right hand. Can you imagine the thoughts of my son's girlfriend, meeting me for only the second time? She did come to my assistance immediately, but still. How cool was I? On my rear on the asphalt? The parking lot attendant looked over like I was just another drunk leaving the Georgetown bars, perhaps getting escorted home by the children.

I sat for a second, took stock of my bones, determined nothing was broken, and got up and into the car. But now, two days later, I'm a bundle of aches. Long hours in the car don't help. I need massage but who has money for that?

Anyway, tomorrow we head north and then south to look at more colleges.

FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 2009 ... I think it's cool that President Obama has brackets. I had no problem with his appearance on the Tonight show, though I wish it had been Letterman. I don't care whether he takes his jacket off in the Oval Office. It's fine with me if he misses the Gridiron Dinner, especially to spend some Spring Break holiday time with his daughters. The times they are a changin', and it still feels like a fresh breeze. His relatively calm and good nature may be among the half dozen tempering factors that keep people from rioting in the streets - at this point. The rage and frustration, especially directed toward AIG, is completely understandable. I wonder about the ferocity of the public outrage to the next of these financial scandals that comes out of hiding. There will be one and the public mood won't be good.

On Monday at Nathans I did an interview with the young hosts of The District Dish, a new interview program on the web. It got posted this afternoon and you can watch it here.

I owe a belated shout out, meant to happen last night but got away from us in the festivities, to BARBARA GARY and ELLEN SCHREIBER, who so generously take photos at The Q&A Cafe week after week. They have my enduring gratitude. Their pics always are awesome.

EARLIER...It's the wee hours of Friday morning and I'm home from Nathans 40th Anniversary party, which was - I believe - a sweet success. More than 100 people attended, enjoyed cocktails in the bar, and then sat down to a long, lovely dinner of salad, lobster fettucini, steak, and Georgetown Cupcakes. The wine never stopped flowing.

Many people told stories, beginning with a poem about Nathans from Mac Lovell. Again and again, the stories were about people who met their future spouse at Nathans. Nathans as matchmaker was the theme of the night, plus Michael Kelly's recollection of the time he and Howard carpeted the floor of the bar with sod - allegedly from Ireland but actually from nearby Virginia. I'm grateful to everyone who took the microphone to tell a Nathans anecdote.

If you are up at 6 a.m., please tune into WUSA-Channel 9, where Jessica Doyle will report a story about Nathans.

More, later... I gotta get my zzzzzz's.

THURSDAY, MARCH 19, 2009...Interestingly, we've begun to treat the financial community like sex predators, especially any among 'em who have received a bonus. There will be lists of names and addresses, and their crimes, and we'll track whether they move from one state to the next. Right now, any one who works at AIG is akin to a child rapist. In other words, they have no rights. This is not a judgment call, only an observation. But there's no question the public displays of outrage have reached a level of random absurdity. My faves are the outraged members of Congress, as if they are not in some ways quite complicit.

It's all a mess, and as I wrote in my NYSD column earlier this week, everything else becomes the focus except for the issue that is at the center of the mess. Why? Because no one understands what is happening or now to fix it. It seems President Obama is trying, but this could well prove to be bigger than what an Administration can wrap its stimulus measures around. I don't mind that he is appearing on Jay Leno. I wish it were David Letterman, instead, because Letterman can actually do a restrained conversation and avoid the jokes. Leno is just not that skilled. But Obama will be able to reach people who don't watch the evening news or read the papers. So, it makes sense.

Today is a big day for me in more ways than one. There is the big anniversary party tonight. I'm looking forward to it, but - honestly - not with the kind of effervescent big date glee that came with past Nathans milestones - the 30th anniversary, the 35th, my 10th of ownership. I actually went out and bought new outfits for those occasions. Got my hair done. Well, in a recession it's essential to pull something out of the closet rather than buy something new. As a woman, that's a big bummer. Who doesn't approach a big date without the thrill of new threads?? I ask you! The outrage!

The other biggie today is happening in about an hour - Black Op talks to the lawyer for the landlords and it will be a critical moment. I've got a knot in my stomach. At the very least, we'll find out whether an agreement can be reached that makes it possible for Nathans to keep operating. How that moment landed on this very day of the calendar - anniversary party day - is why the word serendipity is in the vocab. On the other hand, you could just call it brutal irony.

I consider the financial crisis so serious that I rarely listen to the cable channels any more for news of the world. Not much TV news at all, for that matter. Listened to them a lot during the prez campaign, but now most of the yakkers seem like puff balls with no grasp. They talk a lot but don't say anything. They are still in another era. They are not in this moment, with a few exceptions. When will they catch up to this story? They are sort of like the judges on American Idol, with each trying to match the other, often copying what the other says, and Paul Krugman is Simon Cowell. Is Jim Cramer the Paula Abdul? There are so many candidates to be Paula. Too many.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 2009 ... What has happened to actress Natasha Richardson is alarming and upsetting. A lot of people wonder, "how could that happen?" How could she hurt her head, walk and talk afterward, and then end up in critical condition and possibly "brain dead," as some tabloids are reporting? I sought an explanation from a doctor, a good friend who is an intensive care specialist. For years he's worked with patients in critical care and suffering critical injuries. Here is his explanation:

"It is very unfortunate that Natasha Richardson suffered a head injury while skiing. I am very familiar with the "talk and die syndrome" though that terminology is not particularly common. When an individual suffers trauma to the head the areas that may be injured include the brain matter itself and the areas around the brain called the subdural, epidural, and subarachnoid spaces. There are many factors which contribute to the severity of the injury and the prognosis. Talk and die is one of the infrequent but very sad manifestations of brain injury.

In Natasha's situation her fall probably injured her temporal artery within the skull and located outside the dura within the epidural space. With this type of injury an individual often times has a lucid i.e. a talking period followed by loss of consciousness. If pressure from the blood in the epidural space pressing on the brain is not relieved quickly brain matter can die because within the skull space is very limited. Often times the initial injury seems relatively minor but once the arterial bleeding creates sufficient pressure loss of consciousness and eventual brain death can happen very quickly.

I do not known if she went to an emergency room after the injury and what her neurologic condition was upon arrival. If she arrived lucid and the injury seemed sufficient to the examining physician they would typically order a head CT at which time an epidural hematoma is usually seen and the patient is taken quickly to the operating room with successful removal. I'm saying that if caught early the prognosis from decompressing an epidural hematoma is usually quite good. Unfortunately as I said earlier once consciousness has been lost if surgical intervention doesn't happen quickly the outlook is often not at all good.

Assuming the reports that she is now brain dead are correct that means there is no hope of any recovery and the family will be facing decisions about organ transplantation. Again assuming that she is brain dead there is no decision by the family necessary relative to the withdrawal of life support since there is no life and brain death is an accepted standard of death by both the medical and legal communities.

I hope that this family is allowed to experience their loss with a minimum interruption by the media."

Yesterday I mentioned the Richardson injury to the health official at my son's school. She said, "that's why we always, always, insist parents closely watch their children who have had a concussion or head episode while playing sports. It's always best to go straight to the hospital."

It's so sad. Anyone who ever has had to make a life support decision about a loved one, as I did with my husband years ago, knows what a terrible, crushing moment this is. My doctors helped immeasurably, and I knew the choice we made was as Howard would want ... but.

SUNDAY, MARCH 15, 2009 ... Sad news about the death of actor Ron Silver. I did not know him, but I saw him in Washington often and met him on inauguration night at a party at the home of George and Liz Stevens. I was struck by his gaunt appearance, and when I later mentioned it to a friend she told about his long battle with cancer. There are a lot of actors who come to Washington and flirt with what we do here, but Silver actually got into walking the walk and talking the talk. He had the passion. He helped form the Creative Coalition, which will be part of his legacy, along with a load of acting credits.

EARLIER...It's uplifting, isn't it, in the middle of the recession that could become a depression, to wake up and read about a bunch of shameless, greedy executives, who creamed their own company, but still plan to reward themselves with $165 million in bonuses. Gee. Let's see. That leaves $5 million of the fed bailout money they received. What will they do with that? Give it to their spouses?

Of course, you know I'm referring to AIG.

They always have excuses, too. "Oh, it's our responsibility..." Blah Blah Blah...Blech.

What I don't understand is why the citizens aren't protesting in the streets - in very large numbers - outside any number of bank, auto, insurance and other corporate headquarters. Protest is something Americans, especially baby boomers, once did so well. They made a difference. They brought a war to an end. Now, it's like fat apathy. Everyone moans and groans about how their resources have collapsed, their options narrowed, and how the future looks uncertain. There are many culprits in this economic disaster - some more hidden than others, some protected by Secret Service and other security - but the corporate towers stand there, accessible ... not to mention stockholder meetings, appearnces before Congress. Protest is possible. Back in the day, the antiwar forces marched on Washington. Today, the mass protests could be staged in Detroit, on Wall Street, particularly 70 Pine Street, AIG's headquarters, and Washington.

What would protest achieve? Oh, maybe some reform. But in the near term it would at least be a way to effectively and legally vent loads of outrage, despair, frustration and sorrow. It feels to me like everyone needs a dose of that release.

A measure of how disconnected most people are from dealing with this crisis is the fact that a comedian, Jon Stewart, gets ridiculously celebrated (especially by an out of touch media) for ranting on a cable TV yakker, Jim Cramer. How warped is that? I mean funny, yes, because Stewart is a comic and comics are meant to amuse us, but why is he the pivot point for citizen anger? It's another exmaple of fat apathy.

Do you ever notice how the media is obsessed with the losses of the rich, the impact of the recession on the haves, but devote little attention to the poor? Isn't that odd? After all, while the rich are hit by the economic catastrophe, many of them, if not most, will still be rich. But it's the poor who lose city services, charities, and who face an even bleaker chance at opportunity. Recession hits the poor much more harshly than it does the rich. Yet this story does not get told. What is that about?

My own personal bleakness continues, but I try to find little shards of optimism. I mean, spring will be here soon. Every morning I wake up and expect to see my car gone. It could be repo'd at any time. Emotionally I'm prepared, though it will make life more difficult. This is what happens when your income gets cut down. In my value system of the moment, food and utilities are more important than wheels. Gosh, I don't even want to think of how my credit score has plummeted. eek. Five years ago this would have gutted me. Now I just roll with the punches. Don't we all.

Meanwhile, the landlords' lawyer sent a harsh email coloring me in a deadbeat tone. I'm not a deadbeat, I just play one in the restaurant business. I think the respect I've shown the landlords, and they've shown me, does not warrant this attitude. A decade ago I could have given the IRS the keys to Nathans, resumed my successful and profitable career in journalism, walked away and left the landlords high and dry. For a variety of reasons, including ignorance, I didn't. In that decade I have been a human life support system to a rusty business, giving it as much new blood and oxygen as was possible, and, while not able to meet all the demands on me, protected the landlords from much of the nightmare. In return, it would be nice if their lawyer would not piss on me.

In the end, though, I suppose it doesn't matter. I guess that's what lawyers do. Go all negative. Still, what should feel like a pre-nup negotiation is beginning to play more like a divorce. Can't we all get along? We're trying to save a business, a communal landlord-tenant livelihood and 45 jobs.

My lower back is totally effed. Constant wracking pain. I don't recall doing anything specific to pull it out. Someone said this can happen with stress. Okay. I accept that. This is why I need the stress to end. It's doing me in.

I was M.C. last night at the annual gala dinner of the group - SLDN - who are working to overturn "Don't Ask/Don't Tell." It was at the National Building Museum. Quite an experience to stand on a stage in front of some 700 people, in that beautiful setting. The M.C. invitation came from my good friend Aubrey Sarvis, who is head of SLDN, and working very hard to win a repeal of the law. When I was introduced the Voice of God mentioned only The Q&A Cafe and New York Social Diary. Not Nathans. At my request. I may have an obligation to save Nathans, but it is very sweet to have moments when I'm not defined by the place.

THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 2009 ... As I got home from Bourbon Steak last night my friends txted me to say right after I walked out of BS in walked MICHAEL DOUGLAS and CATHERINE ZETA-JONES. They hung at the bar, everyone ogled them, and when they headed up to their room the patrons applauded. Can you imagine living your life like that? I'm not sure whether I would like receiving applause for coming and going.

I did see some friends there, though: Eric Zeibold, chef of CityZen. Also Robert Weidemier, who's just opened a new restaurant; also Martin Lumet, the charming owner of La Chaumiere. My good friend Dale Leibach was there, plus friend and neighbor Marvin Jawer, and businessman and party boy extraordinarie, Bill Dean. I was with "Jordana Z," the food writer for New York Social Diary and her friends Scott and Katie (who I called "Vickie" all night). In between our many courses there was a lot of getting up and down to say hello and hug. We were seated in the bar, at the front. At Bourbon Steak, the best seat in the house is the bar. In the dining room, you miss the action.

I had an almost entirely vegetarian meal. Fried pickles, lobster corn dogs, mac n cheese, brussels sprouts, mushrooms and sorbet. And that darned 2nd Stoli martini! Good but Ouch. Do you ever have a night where you just need a drink? That was me last night, especially with the lease offer having arrived from the landlords. Turmoil is too small a word for what I'm going through ... even in CAPS. I'm a churning mess.

Today, after an 8 a.m. Wash Hosp Center board meeting, I headed for Nathans to meet Jessica Doyle. She was with The Washington Post, Channel 4, and Washington Post Radio, but is now the business reporter for WUSA-TV 9. She interviewed me for a story about the impact of the recession on businesses like Nathans. She's her own camera operator, light technician and interviewer. We had fun, in spite of the dreary subject. I like Jessica. We met back when I would occasionally do a guest spot on her morning radio show....she co-hosted with David Burd. Her story will air sometime next week. I'll post it here.

Would you like to be part of a free weight loss program with the goal of losing 10-20 pounds by Memorial Day? My nutritionist friend, Katherine Tallmadge, is looking for some volunteers to let her guide them through a pre-summer tune up. The only caveat is that she has to be able to use your name and write about it in The Georgetowner newspaper. That's a small issue when in return you end up 10 pounds lighter. Email her at katherine@katherinetallmadge.com. She's waiting to hear from you. What a great opportunity. Katherine has many happy clients, both in and out of Georgetown.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 11, 2009 ... Mollifying my woes tonight. Who wouldn't? Can't help myself. Hanging with New York City friends at Bourbon Steak bar. But, my personal policy is: one martini, one paragraph. Two martinis, go to bed. So, good night.

Q&A with Mayor Fenty went very well. Read about it in Washington City Paper here. The interview was a bright spot in the day. Also the City Paper coverage, capped by this great item on Zagat Wire: here. I wrote to Jon Moss and said, "Two bits of good news. This can only mean we're gonna get walloped with some bad news."

I don't know if it's a wallop or bad news necessarily, but the landlords did send us the draft agreement for Nathans continuing at Wisconsin and M. There are some helpful concessions, but right now I think the only way I could make it work is to win the lottery, go into business with Ashlee Dupre or find a sugar daddy who has money to throw away. I believe this is what's called a "bind."

The landlordsIn just a few hours we welcome DC Mayor Adrian Fenty to his third appearance at The Q&A Cafe. We've had a few cancellations, as we always do, so if you are on the wait list or would like to attend, please phone Jon Moss at 9:30 a.m. at 202.338.2000. The program begins at 12:30, the doors open at noon. It's a packed house, so arrive early if possible.

Kudos to Tom Shales today for writing these words: Now, sadly, reality television has turned certain chefs into celebrities on a par with certain basketball or football coaches -- "professionals" with whom they share such unenviable habits as screaming, sweating and humiliating. They go ape about limp arugula or so-so couscous, cameras zoom in on eyes puffy with tears and everybody becomes hysterical trying to top one another's suffering succotash.

He's reviewing some new celebrity chef show. Chefs are awkward celebrities and restaurant kitchens do not make for appetizing TV shows. Chefs should cook and kitchens should be the backstage that's not viewed by the audience. Some mysteries should remain just that. Some veils do not need to be pulled back. Just one person's opinion. I yearn for the days when a chef was the guy who perhaps did a turn through the dining room at the end of dinner service and that was the extent of the star turn. Restaurants were generally more hospitable back then.

TUESDAY, MARCH 10, 2009 ... There are several downsides to being in lease negotiations (where do I begin?) but among the most disturbing are the sharks. They've been swimming round me since the day Howard died, but have become more hot for my blood in recent months. So, let me state emphatically there is no truth whatsoever to the rumor I made a secret deal to sell Nathans to J. Paul's owner Bichara Nemour.

The rumor has come in Nathans front door more than once now, upsetting staff. I ignored it for a while, but some fires need to be put out with emphasis. I think it got fanned at the Applie Pie reunion (old bartenders love to gossip) over the weekend. The rumor, which is rich in detail, claims I made this underhand agreement with Nemour that would have me as his partner for three years so that my rare "tavern" license could be transferred to him and his corporation, Capitol Restaurant Concepts. Bichara and I have not talked in months and months, nor has anyone talked to him on my behalf, or vice versa. It's nonsense.

Where did the rumor start? My guess, like most rumors, is that it started from the source who would most benefit. I'm sure there are interests who would like to upset Nathans lease talks now that they look promising. Nathans corner is coveted by many sharks.

Bichara has made clear to me on more than one occasion that he desires Nathans above all else, to solidify his Georgetown dominance, but there is no agreement between us to do anything. We share a friendly "hi" when we pass on the street.

The news unsettles me, especially on the day before a Q&A. I need to focus on my interview with Mayor Adrian Fenty. THAT'S what I want to think about; not rumors of some shady saloon deal. btw, we've had some cancellations for tomorrow and there are a few seats available.

Yikes. What was I in a past life to deserve this? Obviously someone very evil.

MONDAY, MARCH 9, 2009 ... I was about to write my daily blog with a theme, unusual for me, of "ain't life grand!" The beautiful weather does that to me - heaps of optimism. But then just before opening up the site I got an email from a friend who was diagnosed with a melanoma called Clark's Level IV. Full stop.

Life is still grand, and he'd be one of the first to say so, but life can also throw a wrench in it. (I know from my own recent frightening experience with blood poisoning, when I got called out). But I know this for so many other reasons and people, too. My friend is healthy and fit and youthful and should do fine, but what a scare. I will say this, he embraces life, which is exactly what we all should do every day. There's no way to know whether one will get that tap on the shoulder and be called out, even temporarily.

I've spent time recently with another friend who's husband died of kidney disease - even after she gave him one of her kidney's. She knows. Live life.

It's tough when the economic news is so challenging and discouraging. Most of us feel like crawling into our caves and staying shut in. But it's important to be out there, to be part of what's going on around you. Someday we'll all be old and at death's doorstep and we won't want to have given these years over to cowering because of a bunch of greedy a-holes on Wall Street, and in banks and the auto industry, and investment houses, and loan offices, and elected office, who really mucked it up. We just have to find ways to rise above all this sludge. It's their sludge, not ours.

Look at me! I write this as if I have a solution. If optimism could be a winning lottery ticket I'd be so very very very rich. There's nothing I've read or heard that gives any credence to my blather, but it can't hurt to give getting out there a try. I used to eat out a lot. Now I either drink in and eat out, or drink out and eat in. But I get out. On behalf of those among us who've had to step out of the normal flow of life, and who now need to get well, we should go out and drink to them until they rejoin us.

SUNDAY, MARCH 8, 2009 ... Live long enough and you meet all kinds of fascinating people That's the best way to describe the year in which life put me on the same trail with James G. Bellows, one of the most interesting American newspaper editors, who died Friday at age 86. He is credited with helping to create the "new journalism" while editor of The New York Herald Tribune. His professional life was almost entirely in newspapers, but there was a spell in broadcasting, also. He ran "Entertainment Tonight" in its early and innovative years, and then became executive producer of "USA Today: The TV Show." That's where we met, when I was the show's Washington bureau chief and also, later, producer of the "Life" (or purple) section. Jim was brought in to help "fix" the show soon after it was launched. It couldn't be saved, but he brought diverting energy to the project. We spent a lot of time together. I always felt I was in the company of a legend. I couldn't always understand him - he mumbled a lot - but I loved to listen. His story is amazing, though and traces the heyday of East Coast newspapers. Read it here.

EARLIER...Enough with being hassled by married men. By "hassled" I mean the guys who think they are some kind hot s**t forbidden fruit, as if irresistible, and then are shocked or in denial when their move is given the pass. Seriously. If you want a date, here's how it works: Leave your wife and then ask other women out on dates. I can't figure out why the wives want them in the first place. This predatory condition is not unique to Washington, but Washington's married men seem to practice it in the smarmiest ways. Perhaps they still have BILL CLINTON as their role model.

I'm no standard bearer for virture, and my observations are are just that.

Not all married men are chasing what's outside the bounds. There are many married men who are gentlemen. They treat women respectfully - married and not married - which makes them cool, attractive and smart.

The fellows who think of themselves as sex on a stick are so far removed from self-awareness that it does provide a giggle - for me and many of my not married women friends...and some of the married BF's, too, but for them the joke has the potential to be too close to home. Even even when I have the lowdown on a friend's husband, I don't tell, nor would I. But I really hate knowing. It changes everything.

My rant doesn't mean there aren't legitimate situations where people fall in love with each other and the man or woman might be occupied elsewhere in a marriage. That happens. My rant is about the guys who are in heat.

EARLIER...This weekend was busy. Friday night - Cit Bar and Nathans, last night the new Ray's the Steaks (outstanding meal). Not only was Ray's packed inside, but there were 30-40 people outside waiting for a table. OMG. Congrats to you, Michael Landrum. At Ray's I stuck with the classics: crab bisque, steak tartare, salad, slab bacon, filet mignon, mashers, creamed spinach and chocolate mousse! They should serve Lipitor with the coffee. Oops, I mean the complimentary hot chocolate. More chocolate. All of it so so so good. Had dinner with my friend NED BROWN and his adorable but sleepy 4th grade son.

Today I've been walking and walking. Had breakfast with Aubrey Sarvis at Leopold's to go over the outline for the SLDN dinner this coming Saturday. Please buy a ticket. I'm the emcee. This is Aubrey's big event, helping to raise funds to overturn "don't ask/don't tell." While the dinner is attended by many of Washington's gay community, it is not exclusively gay. There are plenty of straight people who support this cause, and plenty of straight people in the military. They will be at the dinner, too. Get your tickets here. There will be at least a couple of "Georgetown" tables: one arranged by Frederica and George Valanos, and the other by Ellen CharleS. The dinner is at the National Building Museum, and Windows is handling the catering.

SATURDAY, MARCH 7, 2009...The eve of one of my favorite days - when we set the clocks ahead and get more daylight in return.

Lax news: Georgetown vs Syracuse today at noon at Georgetown and then afterward a gathering of lacrosse fans at Nathans. Should be fun. Something you might consider on what should be a lovely almost spring day.

My son's high school varsity team had their first lacrosse scrimmage yesterday, and won, and he scored a goal and also had a couple of assists. A good beginning to the season. My job was to video tape his plays. Later when he reviewed my work, he said, "you have a lot to learn about holding the camera still."

Recovering this morning from one of those delicious and dangerous Cosmopolitans at the Citronelle Bar. Then an equally delicious dinner at Nathans - wedge salad, mac n' cheese for me - with Sally Hosta and her brother in law, Darryl Hosta, who is in from Los Angeles for the Apple Pie Reunion that is happening tonight. Randy Roffman joined, too.

FRIDAY, MARCH 6, 2009 ... The Royal Suite at the Four Seasons Hotel is occupied once again, but this time, I'm told, by BRANGELINA. It has something like 6-8 bedrooms, which probably just meets their needs. Last famous occupant was Oprah Winfrey.

The recession is beginning to wear people down. You hear it in conversations, you see it in the media, you especially hear it among store owners, and in banks, and among almost anyone who provides a service for a living. Among friends I hear the woe of not being able to do anything - eat out, holidays, shop, give to charity, do home repair - and this takes a toll. Yes, many have lived without these perks for years, but they were something to strive for. Ambition has been harshly tamped down. This, of course, has nothing to do with Brangelina.

THURSDAY, MARCH 5, 2009... There are these little things I do to revive my soul. One of them is to go "out of town" to Capitol Hill. Sometimes I wander the Eastern Market, other times I go to Good Stuff Eatery for a milk shake and burger fix. That's what I did yesterday. Slipped up there late afternoon, ordered a toasted marshmallow milk shake, "shroom" burger and herbed fries. Ate my feast upstairs by the window, listening to Howard Stern on the portable Sirius. The experience put me elsewhere for a little while and then I returned "home" to Georgetown. It was a boost, not the least in calories. Later took a couple of long walks, one with my nutritionist buddy Katherine Tallmadge, who advised me to have a dinner of only a little bit of protein (salad with beans) and some fruit, which is exactly what I did.

Earlier I wrote my column about the kerfuffle over Michelle Obama's arms. See below. Fun piece to write. (Again, if this could be my living.) Lots of amusing responses today from readers..and virtually all consider the whole thing a lot of nonsense.

MONDAY, MARCH 2, 2009... Nice snow storm. It gave me every reason to keep resetting the alarm. The dog was a little perplexed, but dove under the covers and made the best of it. Seriously, his little paws stuck out behind him.

I wanted to play today but actually had to do stuff. Forgot about a doctor's appointment. Showed up late. Walked home into the wind from downtown. Yikes. Had to do some editing, whch is okay. Drafted a letter to the city, which is a challenge. Did get in a walk, but it wasn't enough ... besides the icy patches are tricky.

So, just who is this Mr. Bond? Well, wish I could say he was seated in the movie theater beside me (nothing against the fella who was my companion) but he was actually up on the screen: Clive Owen. The film? "The International." Clive is just so, well, all of it. He shoulda been James Bond, but I believe he turned it down. In life he is just a smidge taller than Sean Connery at nearly 6' 3". Daniel Craig is a mere 5' ll". Craig is a good actor, but he's just not Bond! My opinion.

Nathans 40th Anniversary party is approaching. We have 60 reservations. That means about 10-15 seats remain. Please book 'em and join us. Call Jon Moss at 338.2000.

SUNDAY, MARCH 1, 2009 ... It's off to the movies and pizza for me. I have a date with the man who should be Bond.

EARLIER...I bumped into Jack Blaylock on M Street. He said, "I'm on my way to Nathans for some Eggs B." We chatted, and then he was on his way. Thank you, Jack. I continued my walk designed to stir up some positive feelings about everything. Maybe I'm energized by the weather forecast. Snow makes me want to have fun. Back in the day a snowstorm brought out everybody in Georgetown. They filled the restaurants and bars and partied late into the night. It's a shame we don't behave that way anymore. We've become so stodgy.

Do you remember The Apple Pie? It was a groovy bar back when the word groovy meant just that. It was on M Street, closer to Key Bridge ... near where Baker Furniture is now. It was a wild and crazy place. Fair to say the effects of drugs played a role. Again, back in the day. Yesterday I heard The Apple Pie is having a reunion next Saturday and the location is Nathans. That's cool. Y'all come.

Before my walk I spent the morning editing photos and writing my column. It should run Tuesday. It will be part 2 of my "Hunt Country Getaway." On NYSD, of course.

Let it snow let it snow let it snow. How about some hot buttered rum at Nathans?

btw, Karl Rove was a sitting duck on "This Week."

FRIDAY, FEB. 27, 2009 ... Got this great email a little while ago:

1. You are woefully underappreciated.
2. You are so much more than all this.
3. You are a mother, a writer.
4. You feel "stuck." You aren't.
5. Courage.
6. Lock the doors.
7. Write the book.
8. Take Q & A on the road.
9. Free-lance with NYSD.
10. Hire a good tax attorney.
11. Don't sell your house until your son leaves for college.

Hmmm. That was sweet, especially #1. Should I add ROB A BANK?

A successful, respected and well-known Washington businessman said to me today: "Your problem is you run your place honestly." Well, thank you. That is who I am, but it doesn't mean I don't envy the guys who know how to do it the other way.

EARLIER... It's one of those days, at the end of a long week, when I feel nearly pecked to death. The nibbling is from people who mean well, giving me advice, but much of the time they leave me feeling like such a gigantic failure. I know that's not their intention. Goodness, they want me to suvive and thrive. But they hear the details of what the landlords are offering Nathans - some appealing concessions, especially on rent, but other indefinite conditions that are stressful - and my "advisers" are shocked. They want me to do this, do that, go back to the beginning, tell @@## to F-off, argue with the city, walk out, close down, or renergize, regroup, declare bankruptcy, reform, jump ship, find a new line, get in touch with my message, march into this office or that office, be who I was meant to be, ignore the lawyers, ignore the city, ignore the accountants, and, most of all, ignore the landlords. They are appalled by what's befallen me or impressed with my perserverence. I'm either dumber than dogs**t or a smart cookie. But I'm never ever what I should be. I'm always missing it. I either haven't got there or I've exceeded it. My talents are wasted or I'm brillantly challenged.

I wrote to a friend and said, "I need a friend."

Boy, do I ever.

EARLIER...New York Social Diary today runs Pt 1 of my "Hunt Country Getaway." It's the piece I worked on when I went walkabout last weekend. Read the column here. Pt. 2 runs next week. This was a fun story to do - the kind of story I really love - and oh how I wish I could earn a living doing this kind of writing and photography on a regular basis.

FYI- my interview with Kimberly Dozier for The Q&A Cafe airs this evening at 8 o'clock on DC Cable-TV 16.

THURSDAY, FEB. 26, 2009 ... I was emailing back and forth with Francesca Craig today when she said she was wondering when I would blog. I explained that A) I'd been writing a NYSD column most of the morning and B) was holding off on the blog for fear of being too honest. Her reply: "Never stopped you before!"

True, I guess. There's a story in DC City Paper that references the relative transparency of "Swimming in Quicksand," and I was proud of that. I can't think of anything I've got to hide, at least not in regard to what I write about here. I suppose I'm just getting stressed by the lease negotiations (more stressed) and the DC government audit that is underway. Day Four. This is not Nathans first audit on my watch, but it's just like when the teacher walked through a quiet study hall checking out each student, one by one. Even if I was being Little Miss Perfect I was certain she would stop at my desk, grab my ear and pull me out of the room for SOMETHING.

That's what the audit feels like. I know Jon and I couldn't be more diligent about playing it straight - to point of being totally boring - but we're capable of missing stuff. It's human nature. Neither one of us is a computer. And even computers can miss stuff. Plus, our books get gone over by a bookkeeper. The woman from the government - young, friendly, pretty - is using my desk. The poor dear. The basement is such a dreary place, and chilly, and dark, and this assignment cannot be considered a perk, even though we include lunch for her.

She said she has a couple more days to go. Aye, yei yei. I'll make it somehow. And even when she's done that doesn't mean we'll get the report immediately. Eek.

So, I'm sort of on the verge of being a wreck, but loved the diversion yesterday of interviewing Kimberly Dozier. For me, that was a perk. The show will air tomorrow, Friday, at 8pm on DC Cable TV-16.

WEDNESDAY, FEB. 25, 2009 ... I will update more thoroughly tomorrow. A little wiped out this evening. But Q&A was good. Kimberly Dozier has quite a story to tell. It will be on DC Cable. Nice dinner tonight with Michael Higgins at Mendocino. We caught up on everything. Anyway, more tomorrow on Nathans, etc.

TUESDAY, FEB. 24, 2009 ... I'm regularly asked for updates on the progress with negotiations for Nathans future. This much I can tell you: it is happening every day. It's a constant back and forth. It is wrenching and draining, but bit by bit I feel we make progress. Black Op has been amazing. He works so hard for this cause, and pro bono on top of all else. Imagine that. Today I conceded to a rather large pay cut. Ouch. Either Spencer and I will be able to survive, or I'll have to find other work to augment my income. Work beyond my already second job with New York Social Diary. But, if it's the only way we can survive, I have no choice. I don't know. I'm still reeling from the fact. Of course, I can walk away ... into unemployment.

I discussed it with Spencer tonight. He asked how we could tighten up "more?" Well, we will have to find ways. The money we'll have has to go to necessities, only necessities. Thank God he has a weekend job. He earns his own "fun" money. I said we have an option, sell the house or not. We both want to stay in the house in Georgetown. It keeps me close to the business and him close to his school. I can't imagine living anywhere else in this metro area. So, if we tighten up we can maybe stay in our house. If we can't tighten up, we will have to move elsewhere. He doesn't want to do that.

"Can we get the money back in your salary if the economy picks up?" Yes, I said, but don't be expecting that miracle any time soon. It will come, but not overnight. Most of all he wanted to know, "are we going to make it? Will we be okay?"

It was a long and heartfelt talk, one that I'm sure is happening in all kinds of households these days as famiies try to cope with having less. I wonder what the impact will be on this generation?

EARLIER... Hoping there will be some last-minute reservations for tomorrow's Q&A Cafe. Please call Jon Moss at 202.338.2000. We want you.

MONDAY, FEB. 23, 2009 ... I'm back from my walkabout. It was a joy and involved literally a lot of walking; also eating, drinking and being with friends. The whole thing is for a NYSD story ... which I hope will be out later this week.

Now I'm very back to reality. Gotta get an audience for Wednesday's Q&A Cafe program. Is it the war? Do people not want to hear about the war? Is that why turnout is low for Wednesday. Geez. This is a story of survival, and it is a way to learn about the attack and recovery process familiar to so many of our soldiers. Kimberly Dozier survived, and she tells her story artfully. Yes, it's about war, but also very much rooted in the trials of the human experience. So, come on, book a seat. You'll be uplifted ... which is a good thing for Ash Wednesday.

I also have to make a very big decision regarding Nathans and the future for me. It feels right now like we could get a new lease, but it would be for only three years. There's no opportunity in that to get investor money or bank loans. Especially in this awful recession. Meeting our obligations, so far, has drained the business. The landlords have made some concessions, they have also asked concessions of me. The biggest burden is to be liable for the property tax. At $70-75,000 that's a lot of money to pull together when there are so many other urgent demands for the money.And if Nathans folded, I would still have to pay that. I have no personal money left. The well is dry.

A three year lease would give me three years of medical insurance, which is essential. But that may be all. Jon said today that I would have to choose between paying the rent and the taxes or paying me. No pay for me means I'm carrying all the liability and working essentially for the landlords and the city. The only way I could support us then is to go get a job, which means I would not be able to keep an eye on Nathans.

If I choose to close the place, I lose the health insurance, and I will still have to pay the '08 property tax - $75,000 - with no income, plus outstanding bank debt, and God knows what other crap will stir up. Right now we're in day three of an audit by the DC government. The auditor sits in the basement, going through stuff, asking no questions. It's not a good sign when they don't ask questions. We've done everything straight, but still it freaks me out.

So, what I have to decide in the next couple of weeks is; STAY OR GO? It's entirely up to me and me alone, and I hate that. I don't think I'm smart enough to know how to make the decision.

So, you know, please come to the 40th anniversary party.

FRIDAY, FEB. 20, 2009 ... I've gone walkabout for a few days in the Virginia outback, where the hills seem to be endless (good) the sun bright (also good) the air crisp (great for later by a campfire) and the wind ferocious (only good when it's on my back). As the rooster said this morning, cock-a doodle-do.

WEDNESDAY, FEB. 18, 2009 ... You know how I hate to beat the bushes, but that never stops me, especially when my reasons are good. We need some more people in the audience for next week's revival of The Q&A Cafe, with our special guest, Kimberly Dozier of CBS News. Kimberly has a fascinating story to tell about her time covering the Iraq war, which ended when she was critically injured by a car bomb. The bomb killed the two men in her crew plus the military guide and an Iraqi interpreter. She endured more than two dozen surgeries, had to learn to walk again, had to rebuild her life again. After you hear what she has to say you will thank me for pushing, prodding, beging and nudging you to attend. Jon Moss is eager to take reservations at 202.338.2000. The program is Wednesday, Feb. 25. The fee is $35, all inclusive. Thank you, thank you.

TUESDAY, FEB. 17, 2009... I have a new column on New York Social Diary today, it is about Ford's Theatre and the Lincoln Assassination and more Please read it here.

Over the weekend I figured out what it is I feel like much of the time these days in regard to the Nathans lease negotiations. Have you ever been or known someone who was in an unhappy marriage but felt they couldn't get out of it a) because of the kids and b) because of fear of losing financial security, and c) the prenup was totally loaded against them? That's how I feel about the Nathans lease. It's an unhappy marriage contract for me, a kind of slavery or prison. The pre-nup is a bitch. I would give anything to get out of it, but a) i have a child b) it provides some - only some - financial security. And there's c) - to walk away could crush me. If I had protection I could walk away from the lease negotiations tomorrow and not look back. Not once. Or, if someone bought the place from me, or became a liability-bearing partner, that would be cool. I might even enjoy the place.

What I'm trying to decide these days is whether to stay married or get divorced.My heart wants a divorce, but I'm not sure I can afford to do that. Staying married may be loveless and costly, but it saves me in the near-term. In the long term Nathans is marriage with me as the mail order bride.

This is where my heads at as lease negotiations go on. They are very tough. Brutal for me, actually. It's very lonely to be me in this situation. I have to make a decision that will impact my life and the lives of many others. If I sign a lease and go forward and there's more debt, I have nowhere to go. On the other hand, if I close, I'm sure all kinds of people would come after me for money that, again, I don't have. Lawsuits. court, lawyers. God, the madness.

The odd thing about the recession/depression is that for once I know I'm not alone. If misery loves company, at last I have company.

FRIDAY, FEB. 13, 2009 ... Today we announced that Nathans will hold a 40th Anniversary Party on Thursday, March 18. I wish we could make it a free open house, but we can't. As with our 30th anniversary party we will have to charge, but where that one was $100 per person, this one will be a recession friendly $75. Also, rather than having a Q&A, we plan to let you, the customers, be the stars. During dinner we'll have an open mic in the dining room where guests can tell THEIR Nathans stories - uncensored, no holds barred, the unvarnished truth, from over four decades. There will be cocktails in the bar first, and plenty of wine at dinner, and music, too. And, hopefully, lots of birthday cupcakes. Make your reservations directly with Jon Moss at 202.338.2000. This will be fun. It's for you. The customers will be the stars.

THURSDAY, FEB. 12, 2009 ... Who got to Judd Gregg? Do we ever believe what any of these guys say? I'm always skeptical. Was it a set up to make President Obama take another Cabinet hit? I don't put anything past the republicans.

What kinds of people do we elect to Congress who aren't capable of making a thought through decision in regard to a very prominent job offer? Don't say "yes" fellas unless you are sure you can stick with it. Don't say "yes" and then say "uh oh, no, I can't," a few days later.

I saw Tom Daschle last night at a party. I wanted to take his picture. He was all "oh, no no no." But, I don't know, what the hell, I gently pursued him through the room, cajoling, humoring, trying to sweet-talk him into stopping for my camera. Finally it was his wife who said, "sure, why not. Come on, Tom" Under duress, he posed. It's a good picture of them both.

I don't blame him for anything. I have nothing against him. I would like to have seen him in the Obama Administration. He did what he did. But he represents something that rubs me a little. This tax thing. Someone asked me today, "Should Marion Barry go to jail?" I don't know. It's really not whether he should so much as whether he will.

Having inherited my husband's tax fraud case I have a point of view. Yes, I got "Innocent Spouse," but that didn't absolve Howard of guilt.I watch these guys who didn't pay their taxes and think, "Geez. Howard didn't pay his taxes and I lost just about everything and got saddled with a bankrupt saloon. These guys don't pay taxes and get Cabinet offers and blanket coverage on the evening news, and, quite often, let off with a slap." Where's the balance in that? I tell ya what. Don't send Marion Barry to prison. Instead have him own Nathans for 5 years. That will be sentence enough. He'll yearn for prison. Do that with all the guys who don't pay their taxes. I'm glad to sponsor the program.

Such lovely weather today. I walked around feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes and then snapped out of it. I feel bad about losing Gwen Ifill, which folded into general gloom and doom. We haven't heard anything from the landlords in 10 days. I'm very anxious. And then, you know, Valentine's and all that. But I reminded myself that even when I had a Valentine we didn't go nuts over this occasion. We certainly didn't eat out. Maybe exchange some cards, little gifts and then, as usual, sat down at the kitchen table for dinner. It was loverly, though.

WEDNESDAY, FEB. 11, 2009...A new column on New York Social Diary today in which I write about a Leonard Downie book party at a cool location, a Washington Performing Arts Society luncheon at a newly-done Georgetown mansion where a long-time Washington socialite makes an interesting confession, and a Greek gala for the Opera at the Mellon Auditorium. Me and my camera and laptop had a busy few days. Read it here.

TUESDAY, FEB. 10, 2009...Got an email today not from Gwen Ifill but from an assistant saying that Gwen would have to cancel her interview scheduled for The Q&A Cafe for Thursday. The assistant said Gwen returned from being out of town at a family funeral and has to work on Thursday and could not do the interview. I'm sorry about her loss and about the cancellation. I hoped she could find a way to do both work and a lunch break with us - as have others - but apparently not. I know this leaves a lot of you in the lurch, not to mention the chef with the food she ordered and the book store with the books they ordered, but it happened and we will move on. I went back to the assistant a few times with my pleas, but to no avail.

If you have the time, please phone Jon Moss to let him know you have been notified, or we will worry about a lot of you showing up and there's no program. Of course, if you want to come in for lunch ANYWAY, we could certainly use the business and we will be very happy to see you. I'll leave Gwen's book at the bar and you can read it while you have lunch. Jon's number is 338.2000.

Kimberly Dozier of CBS News is still on board for an appearance on Feb. 25. Gwen was sold out with a wait list. Kimberly is not yet sold out. Let's sell her out, okay? Please call and make a rez. It will be a very interesting interview. I've been to a friend's home where she spoke and she has an amazing story to tell about her time in Iraq, and particularly about getting critically wounded by a car bomb, and recovery from same. Not many live to tell that story.

MONDAY, FEB. 9, 2009 ... A new New York Social Diary column - "A Hot Time In the Old Town" - is up and you can read it here.

SUNDAY, FEB. 8, 2009 ... It's interesting, but not surprising, how excess has become unseemly. Extravagance, too. The lavish, the luxurious, the big ticket and exclusive. All of it - out out out. Perhaps with so many feeling powerless in the economic turmoil it is a way to feel some power, a form of voting, a way to force a re-alignment that makes many more nearly equal. Though we know that the "haves," like hackers who figure out how to break into every new techonology, will find a way still to "have" privileges not available to the masses. And maybe that's why there's an urge to have the government hit them harder and harder. Atonement is now the fashion.

The Daschle example is a good one for the political class, especially democrats. Over the years I've had several friends who are/were democrats in Congress or the White House. They talked a good game about the dispossessed and the challenged, and I believe they were sincere. But uniformly they sought and enjoyed privileges that set them well apart from every man. In a way they suffered from that same need to be special that we associate with starlets and rock stars. It goes to insecurity, it goes to a lot of them who have come up from humble beginnings, and it goes especially to ego and a relentless "us" and "them" way of looking at the world. To a one they felt it was part of the package, just as a lot of them expect every Washington job should come with a version of Monica Lewinsky on staff. You know? Young, ambitious, needy, blinded by the pin stripes. Oh, did I say they all are men? They are.

I'm sure there are women who hunger for and abuse the privileges that come with Washington offices and appointments, but it seems largely to be a male condition (because they have the jobs).

btw, are republicans like this? Of course. They just seem to embrace the perks as entitlement...right up front. Not all, but many. The GOP = Perked up and proud of it.

As for the banks and car dealers that are hit hard, the retailers and the new home builders, the charities and the rich colleges, and so many other businesses and institutions that were hit in the gut, those who can adjust and survive will do so. Among retailers, there's a whole lot out there that can be trimmed. So very much crap clothing that comes in from sweat shops all over the world. The prices are cheap - though still inflated - because the items were made entirely on the cheap. Georgetown, for example, brims with this stuff. Ditto the malls. But what to do with empty malls? They don't exactly convert neatly into affordable housing.

The fat banks that have failed should not be propped up. The big car makers who have failed should be let to fail. Something will reform in their place. Cars will be built. Maybe better cars. Banks will be started, and perhaps they will be less greedy. And politicians who think the job is just one big swag bag will lose re-election and hopefully be replaced by a politician who thinks of the work as public service.

From my personal point of view, maybe it's disturbing because I see so much being handed out to the big guys and nothing to the small businesses who are hurting but who make our communities what they are - communities - and who get no breaks. As I wrote earlier, DC has decided to hit Nathans with an expensive audit. Great timing. They'll find little or nothing but it will cost us a lot of money we don't have. My attitude right now - at the peak of lease negotiations - is to welcome the city auditors, hand them all the boxes of records, throw up my hands, and say, "Here, you figure it out. I'm not bringing in an accountant at mucho dollars an hour."

I miss being able to spend money. Yesterday - out of the blue - I had this sentimental moment about spending money. I wanted to just go spend for no other reason than to spend. To buy something for fun. To be indulgent. I didn't do it. The only spending I do these days is food, utilities, gas, medical and paying off debt. But I miss being able to "go shopping." Or travel. I miss travel. And eating out in restaurants. I miss eating out a lot. I used to eat out 2, 3 times a week easy. Now, it's 2, 3 times a month.

But it is a beautiful day and that's a treat. Yesterday I pulled the muscles in my lower back and I feel 125 years old and virtually unable to bend over or do much without pain. Still, I'm goinna try to push through it. Walk a whole lot and hope the pain subsides. But it's a beautiful day. That's my focus. That's what this day is about.

THURSDAY, FEB. 5, 2009 ... Become a Friend of Nathans on Facebook. Click here and sign up.

EARLIER...The Alvin Ailey Dance Company's 50th anniversary gala is the focus of my column today on New York Social Diary. Last year I devoted more words to the ballet and the background of the company, so this year I concentrated on the supper dance after the show. Also, early word that former Clinton General Counsel Cheryl Mills may well become Secreary of State Hillary Clinton's chief of staff. Read it here.

WEDNESDAY, FEB. 4, 2009 ... I'm a woman of many roles. Last night and today I wore my hat as New York Social Diary correspondent. It was a gala at the Kennedy Center. The person sitting on my left at dinner watches The Q&A Cafe on TV-16, and so I wore that hat for a little while, too. Today I wrote a column about last night. But I also spent time wearing my hat as saloon owner, and then, as I started to read GWEN IFILL's "Breakthrough," I had on my Q&A Cafe host hat. There's no question I most love the roles as Q&A Cafe interviewer and NYSD correspondent. IF only I could earn a living in those roles alone.

Actually, the role I love most above all is mother, but that goes without saying. (Though ask me on weekend nights as mother and son argue at midnight about curfews and I might momentarily amend the claim.)

Yesterday I learned the city is raising property taxes when the bills come out in a few weeks. Today I learned they plan to do an audit at Nathans. What excellent timing. Things couldn't be rough enough with a recession bordering on a depression, and the city wants to come in and do an audit. We have nothing to hide. That's not the issue. It's the man hours and accountant fees that are involved in an audit.

Last night I saw Mayor Fenty and we had a pleasant chat. I suggested a task force to find ways to help small businesses through the recession. He agreed it's important to help save them because they are a vital part of the city, and they are especially vulnerable. I wore my small business owner hat for that conversation, but then I stepped back and asked to take a picture of the Mayor and his wife, Michelle, and then I had on my NYSD photographer hat.

I'll be honest: half the time people don't know who or what I am - journalist, interviewer, saloon owner, photographer ... blah blah blah. It should be a sitcom or reality show.

MONDAY, FEB. 2, 2009 .... It was fun yesterday to introduce my friend Katherine Tallmadge to Facebook. She was skeptical about just what Facebook would mean to her life, but I assured her it could be good for her work as a nutritionist for hire. And a good one, too. A lot of people use her to overhaul their eating habits, lose weight, get into shape. It's such a smart use of limited funds in a depression/recession. Health and fitness make us feel better about ourselves. Katherine comes to you. She works with you in your environment. So, she joined Facebook and I think she's happy about it. You can see her website here.

Please join Facebook and become a "friend" of mine: Click here to get started. I use it for Nathans, The Q&A Cafe and my columns on New York Social Diary. It's very useful that way. The other stuff I simply ignore.

I have a new column today on New York Social Diary. It's about the Washington National Opera and you can read it here

SATURDAY, JAN. 31,2009 ... Yesterday I mentioned that this past week was brutal for the local restaurant and retail businesses, but at least at La Chaumiere last night the gravity of the times was not evident. They had a packed dining room, which made me happy. I want to see robust business in our local places. I want to see them thrive and survive. I was at dinner with neighbors Tim and Jane Matz, Ellen Charles and, visiting from Upperville, Jean Perin, who is a former Georgetowner. I had the Sea Bass for dinner and the Gratin of Berries for dessert. Really, really good. Everyone in the restaurant stopped and stared when one couple walked from the front to a bank corner table: he had a mysterious deportment and she wore a slinky, backless red dress. Then, once seated, they were glued together. They had to be from elsehwere.

One of our chief topics, of course, was the economy with special attention given to all the creeps on Wall Street - you know the rogue's gallery - and at the major banks, who took bailout money and then channeled it into bonuses, office re-decoration and jets. Can we make them all parade naked down Pennsylvania Avenue? Would that satisfy our thirst to paddle these bad boys?

FRIDAY, JAN. 30, 2009 - Georgetown University's newspaper, The Hoya, has a story about Nathans in today's edition. You can read it here. It's a fairly accurate update, except for the part about the rent. I think reporter Elizabeth Blazey misunderstood my vagueness when I would not talk specifically about the rent. The landlords have not said they would raise the rent. Otherwise, I have no complaints about the piece.

Interestingly, since she quotes me on the inauguration, today I learned that most of the big hotels returned wine and liquor to the distributors. They ordered too much for the festivities, and the guests' simply weren't drinking a lot. (We saw this at Nathans, too). Also, word on the street is that the city's restaurants have just gone through the worst week in ages. Also, that the high end places are especially hard hit. This is not new. It's been happening in New York, too. Thankfully the weekend weather forecast is for pleasant enough temps. Get out of the house! Try Nathans "wonderful winter 3 course special." The price is only $25.50 and there are good choices.

THURSDAY, JAN. 29, 2009 ... Good day. Jon Moss and I had an early morning meeting at his office with BLACK OP. We believe we have a counter-proposal for the landlords which takes into respectful consideration the key issues of both sides. We'll see. Negotiation is a tricky art.

What else did I do today? Seriously, at this hour - 9ish pm - and not due to mind alterting substances, I hardly remember.

Oh, the dentist. Again! Errands at the hardware store for Nathans. Errands elsewhere for Nathans. An interview with Georgetown University's "Hoya" newspaper, which (bad girl) I did over a hands free device while driving around downtown, looking for a parking space.

Discussions with Jon Moss about "what to do?"

Discussions with my brother, DAVID ROSS, for reasons to be revealed at a later date, but pertaining in a positive way to Nathans.

Shopping at the grocery store for dinner for home, meaning the resident teeanger. Make said dinner.

For myself, dinner with visitor from New York and New Jersey, NED BROWN, who is a friend, Q&A Cafe sponsor, colleague from New York Social Diary, and, again, friend. We dined at Nathans, sat at table #8 in the bar; he had a wedge salad and a hamburger, I had salmon with mashers and green beans. We shared a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape, which was delicious. I love the red, white and blue lights over the bar.

At home now to watch commercial TV quilty pleasures: The Office and 30 Rock. If only both were on HBO.

Bottom line: I'm feeling optimistic. How exotic and welcomed. Will it last?

WEDNESDAY, JAN. 28, 2009 ... Resolved: I just have to toughen up, be stronger, put my nose to weather.

EARLIER... When all else fails try a cup of hot cocoa. At least that's what I'm trying. Cocoa with a marshmallow melted on top. It's more affordable than a massage or a trip to Barbuda.

I'm just back from Nathans and a long talk with Jon Moss. We do that a lot. Sit in the office across from each other, my feet up on Howard's desk, him hunched over on both elbows at his desk, trying to figure out what the hell to do. He's smart about the business stuff. That's his role. My role is owner. My role is to carry the burden of whatever happens. The woe. I get the good, too, when that happens, but in almost 12 years of owning Nathans it has been a fairly steady stream of woe - all financial, all down in the office, little of it apparent to customers unless they look too closely at the leather upholstery or the paint job or the varnish on the bar. We still spend the appropriate amount of money on the food, the beverages and the service. You have to.

He sees my position right now as basically being caught between two walls, either of which could crush me. Choose to go one way, and I get crushed. Choose to go another way, and I get crushed. It's figuring out which crush will be the less destructive, more survivable. Unfortunately I am not very smart about these things. I may understand cleverness in writing, in covering a story, in asking a question, but I have no cleverness when it comes to the wise business decision, the most rational way to navigate issues with a lease and landlords. My landlords are looking out for themselves, which makes sense. The problem is there is only so much juice that can be squeezed out of Nathans. Jon and I struggle every day to find that little itty bitty drop of extra juice.

Jon thinks the lease offer on the table could be survivable with a few tweaks - IF the economy improves. To close, he fears, could be very damaging to me personally. NOW I have to hear what Black Op thinks. He is my protector.

And I wonder why my stomach feels like rats are gnawing on it. The gnarliness comes and goes. It's here for a day and then gone for a day. Here for a few days and then gone for a few days. Like a geiger counter, the closer I get to Nathans the more it ratchets up. Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw. I'm living on boiled rice, saltines and graham crackers. Clearly I am not meant to be in charge of a business I also own, at least not one inherited with unabiding debts and insurmountable issues and in a very old building. I've done some good for the place, but the good gets overwhelmed by the inherent flaws. Most of the good we've done is like dental work. Expensive, good for the business, but no one can see it, and the bank account goes phfffft.

TUESDAY, JAN. 27, 2009 ... Hmmm. The landlords' offered Nathans a new lease this evening but I don't think I can do the terms. It's pretty tough. I mean, maybe if I had partners/investors/backers I could swing it, but it's just me, myself and I. This is when I wish I had a business brain, particularly a Blago brain, instead of a writer/journalist/interviewer brain. I'm so underqualified for this role of saloon owner! I will, of course, consult with Black Op and Jon Moss, but both already have suggested that perhaps I should just walk away. That's a big bold step as a parent, and in this economy. I wonder if Blago would like to be my consultant and partner. He'd come up with a clever solution.

It's been such a long, long journey to this point. Eight years! How many times have we asked to re-negotiate the lease, or to get out of the lease. Now the moment's here and I may be too broke to hack it. Ugh.

I'm getting sick of how much everything costs. Today I needed to get a repair on the heating system for my house. A new part. The estimate was $400 and change. But when the work was done B&B presented me with a bill for $900. That's so unfair. I've had to get some unexpected dental work over the last month and a half. It's thousands of dollars! Where does one get the money for this? At least they are letting me pay over time. Insurance reimbursed me $195. Thank you very much. On the other hand, I needed to get branches cut off the giant old elm tree in my back yard. They were about to drop. One company gave me a shocking estimate. That was Bartlett. Another company, Davey, came in with an estimate that was 50% less. I went with Davey, naturally.

Meanwhile, all the people I called over the past five years, asking them to do little bits of work on and around my house, and who said, "No, sorry, I've got a big job," suddenly are phoning to say, "Hey, I'm through the Christmas rush and able to work on that job you mentioned." Christmas rush? Give me a break. Sorry, fellas. You shoulda come round when I had some dough.

MONDAY, JAN. 26, 2009 ... A new column on New York Social Diary about the city bouncing back slowly - sort of - after the inauguration: The Recovery. Otherwise, off to the doctor to find out if what's wrong with my stomach is an ulcer, or what. Guys, if I end up walking away from Nathans, and a new lease, it will be to protect my health. I cannot live in a constant state of high anxiety.

SUNDAY, JAN. 25, 2009 ... There's a new (to me) Georgetown blog, Georgetown Metropolitan. I heard from its editor today, Christopher "Topher" Mathews. He wrote about Nathans. You can read it here.

Have you read about the Miss World contestant who died after having her hands and feet amputated? It happened in Brazil. She had the same condition I had back in Novembe and December: blood poisoning. Fortunately, mine responded to antibiotics but hers, sadly, did not. This happens more often now with bacterial infections as we humans become saturated with antibiotics. The germs are immune. Just remember this: antiobiotics are only for bacterial infections. If you have a virus, don't take an antibiotic.

Oh, health. It's so important. One of my doctor's thinks I might be getting an ulcer. Gosh, I hope not ... but given I had a bacterial infection (which can cause ulcers) and I've got major lease and landlord stress (which also aggravates ulcers) it would be no surprise.

Yesterday, two of the landlords showed up at Nathans and told the manager on duty that "we have a buyer." Now, three weeks ago they began negotiations with us for a new lease, after a year of telling us they were selling and we had to close. So, it's up, down, up, down, up, down. This week we will find out whether they have a buyer or if we're still in lease negotiations. My stomach is in a knot as I write this.

But ... got my mind off this midday today at a brunch Jayne Sandman hosted for "survivors" of the inauguration. It was at Old Ebbitt. I had apple bread, a salad and a glass of red wine. Sat among a group of women of much younger vintage and listened to them gossip and dish about men they know and I know who are closer to my age but who pursue them in ways I found very hilarious. Their stories entertained me so much. These men. Do they know how much the young woman laugh behind their backs. But one of them said, "Good news. We hear there's a whole bunch of interesting new men coming into town with Obama. Thank God." Ha Ha Ha. What will the old coots do?

FRIDAY, JAN 23, 2009 ... For all Q&A Cafe fans, I'll have a tiny surprise for you in an email on Monday (no, not a new lease). So, don't delete your email from me without first reading!

Shocking news for the East Village of Georgetown. The building is for sale that houses Scheele's Market. The sign just went up. The asking price reflects the recession, which means a buyer could find it advantageous to turn it back into a private home. The Lee's, of course, are upset. You know I know how they feel. These are terrible times to be a vulnerable small business tenant.

EARLIER...A few overdue postings for friends. Would you like someone to make your dinners and deliver them to you? Or come to your house to cook for a dinner party? My friend Belli Nasseri provides this service. Here's her email message:

No time to cook? No need to worry!
Our home cooking is at your doorstep. On a weekly, bi-monthly, or as often as is convenient, we can accomodate your taste, needs, and schedule.
Replace your take out with gourmet meals prepared from scratch, using fresh ingredients, and delivered to your doorstep.
Give us a call today and start the New Year with a healthy resolution.
Belli Nasseri
Maison Gourmet
202-277-0677

Belli is a marvelous chef. This is a great idea worth trying, especially for busy people.

Also, the woman who designed this website, Teri Murphy, wrote asking for some mention of her religion blog, which she says, "promotes elevating the debate in religion and politics." You can reach it here. Teri has a book coming out on religious dialogue, Transcend and Include.

MUST READING today. This article from The Wall Street Journal on the sorry state of the restaurant business in this depression. RESTAURANTS IN CRISIS. I know misery loves company, but I get no comfort reading this story.

If you want to be happy today, don't listen to the quarterly reports from America's big corporations. The only people doing well right now are bankruptcy lawyers.

THURSDAY, JAN. 22, 2009... Whatever Caroline Kennedy's reasons for dropping out of the NY Senate seat process, she should have stepped up and made a public statment before microphones. Issuing a statement at midnight was not a graceful way to exit. This episode was a mistake for her from the beginning. Politics is not an easy game to play.

Late inaugural gossip: P Diddy popped into the Ski Hut in Spring Valley to buy some cold weather clothing before the swearing in.

EARLIER...Forgive me. I've been wallowing in depression and self-pity all day as I snap out of the inauguration europhia and return to the reality of not knowing what's going to happen to the business that owns me. It is such a debiliating set of circumstances. The landlords have not yet found a buyer. They seem vaguely interested in keeping Nathans as a "bridge" tenant until the buyer comes along, but I can't go forward if the terms of a new lease don't remove the noose from around my neck. I'm not drowning in debt, but there's enough of it to make me want a life preserver.

The inauguration was good for Nathans, but while there were lots and lots of people they were not foolish with their dollars. The spending and drinking and eating was not crazy. In fact, we closed at almost the normal time on Tuesday night. The manager said, "once customers started ordering only water there was not much point in staying open later." D'accord.

The money made over the past several days helps us to finish paying off summer bills. But we still have plenty of autumn and early winter bills that beg for attention. Hey, we're among the fortunate, I'm told. At the bank they tell me there are businesses in much worse shape. I can't imagine. Still, there's not enough money to give me a paycheck this week and still meet rent and sales tax. It's awful not gettiing paid. I have my own bills at home, and I hate the phone calls about being "past due." I never know what to say. "I'm trying Walk in my shoes for a week."

One of the landlord's phoned Nathans on Tuesday quite angry with us, saying people had told them the place is very very busy. Well, it was during the inauguration.

I feel caught between not wanting to go forward with a bad lease but also not wanting to be unemployed. I am a parent. I can't be reckless. Nathans provides us health insurance and, most weeks, a paycheck. We live week to week but we've got something. We've got a home.

What has to be remembered about Nathans is it is not a corporate restaurant. It is only me. There are no investors or partners. There are no safety nets. When it falls short the money has come out of my savings, a source which has become a dry hole. My son's college money is now in Nathans. I would like to get that back, but with a bad lease this would not happen. I would only go more deeply into debt.

Well, I'll get over the blue shortly. It is, after all, a beautiful day.

JANUARY 21, 2009... Late last night, after I got home from parties and dinner, my editor at New York Social Diary, David Patrick Columbia, asked me to e-mail my impressions. He posted what I wrote on the site today as a "Memo to DPC." Here's what I wrote:

"I love the way he loves her. One look at the way President Barack Obama danced with Michelle at the Youth Ball and it was clear he loves her and it's a warm and passionate love. Is that too far to go with a Presidential couple? I don't know. Maybe it will be good for us. We're so accustomed to sexlessness in our political marriages that it is a revelation to see a pair who may quite possibly be getting it on with each other. I love that. Will it lift the economy out of the junk heap, will it bring world peace, probably not. But, since it's been so long since we've tried it, let's give love a chance.

I'm exhausted by good vibes at the end of four days of celebration. I'm not fooled that the vibes will change the city overnight, but it's possible they will change the city over time. For the moment, I'm a little weary of parties where we're all standing up and talking and drinking and eating at the same time, but God Bless the hosts and hostesses and caterers who made them possible. I have fond memories of crisp good champagne at any number of parties. I can't believe I wore stilettos as often as I did - that's so not Washington. I loved the way so many of us women complimented each other on dresses only to each admit at the same time, "I've had it for ages." Indeed, Recession fashion.

Over the past however many years I've been involved in a load of inaugurations: both of Nixon's, Carter, both of Reagan's, Bush #41, both of Clinton's, and the last two of Bush #43. None compared to what we've just experienced. It was a Presidential Woodstock, and I expect it will grow in legend in the same way.

What else do I remember: waffles in front of the TV this morning as Obama appeared on the inaugural stage and the image of all those flags waving in hysteria. Gosh, we can still do that. And those two adorable little girls. Tonight, their first night in the White House, I'm wondering what it must be like for them. Is it not the biggest doll house? If only the Oval Office weren't such a seismic opposite of that fantasy."

I also have a separate column today. You can read it here.

INAUGURATION DAY, 2009... Better to flub reciting the oath than flub the running of the country. This could be a new kind of good luck.

EARLIER...The moment is here. It's incredible and hard to believe, and wonderful. The excitement is palpable. I'm quite amazed how the mood of this city has been so beautifully transformed. Please read my observations and thoughts today on New York Social Diary. There will be more tomorrow, too.

If you are looking for a place to watch the swearing-in, and want to be with others, but maybe not out in the cold down on the mall, Nathans is open early this morning, serving brunch and showing the ceremonies on all three TV's, plus a TV in the dining room. And then, of course, serving all afternoon and into the wee hours.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 18 ... I had a sweet scoop today for New York Social Diary. I learned that USAir "hero" pilot "Sully" Sullenberger, his family and crew were invited to the inauguration had would be staying at the Ritz Carlton-West End. We had it up on the site early afternoon. By evening other media outlets had picked it up ... of course without giving us credit. This has happened before, like when I had the scoop about Sarah Palin's wardrobe. We can't get no respect from the MSM.

Had a nice chat with the French Ambassador this evening at the Kuwaiti Embassy. He is, as you might expect, a very charming individual, and smart. Came home from the party, wiped off the make-up, changed into sweats and took a walk around Georgetown. More people out on the streets than last night but still no record breaking crowds. It's simple: they got scared away. Earlier today I walked to the mall to photograph the crowds headed to the Lincoln Memorial for the Inaugural concert. The weather was mild, the mood exuberant. Everyone should have been there. Walked home to watch the show on TV and thought it very very good. So much fun to watch those cute little Obama girls enjoy the show. What must all of this be like for them? I can't imagine.

Much on the calendar tomorrow: a lunch, a cocktail party and a supper - plus all the routine chores of daily living.

EARLIER...Had dinner with a friend at Bourbon Steak last night. Wow. Packed. Bar packed and restaurant packed. The new restaurant combined with the renovation of the Georgetown Four Seasons have in one swoop changed the tone of the hotel. Think Smith Point or the Rookery, with some Love thrown in, melded with the Four Seasons. The crowd is young, loud, lively, 5 deep at the bar, casual, in and out of the lobby with beer bottles, drinks, canoodling; the rock and roll is loud. Management even set up a velvet rope when the bar hit capacity! It's a hot mess singles scene and perhaps that's what the hotel chain is after. Maybe it wants to be more the Gramercy Park Hotel of Washington and less the Carlyle.

Still I miss the Garden Terrace. It was family friendly and the ideal place to meet people for something other than breakfast, lunch or dinner, or for a casual meal. The old lobby was very Georgetown, very Washington, and comfortable and inviting. It had elegance. The new lobby is nouveau Vegasy with lots of marble, and it's much smaller and less inviting than it used to be. It looks like a few dozen other urban hotel lobbies, with no personality, where before the look was unique. I must say this now gives hand to the Georgetown Ritz, who wins the lobby competition. Their lobby is inviting, comfortable, cozy and looks and feels like Georgetown. It's an awesome place to have a drink by the fire. Further away, the Park Hyatt has a fun and comfortable lobby.

The Four Seasons afternoon tea is gone, which will be missed. They could take that big sea of black and white marble outside the entrance to Bourbon Steak and make it a tea room in the afternoons. That would be a draw. Or, the Ritz should make a big play for the Afternoon Tea crowd. What the Ritz needs is a name chef in that handsome dining room. And a name chef who is actually there, not just lending his name and recipes for a big payday. Enough with these expensive concept restaurants that have corporate kitchens. Bring back the chef in the kitchen, cooking what inspires him or her that day.

That said, I had chicken last night and it was good. I had to rearrange it on my plate because it was presented like a Porcelain Bento Box - pretty - but when I have roasted chicken I like all the components to be close neighbors. The chicken was tasty, ditto the mac n cheese, but especially the brussels sprouts and mushrooms. My date had the grilled tuna and it looked yummy, though he said it had no taste. The coffee is strong and delicious, very European. The service is young, energetic, sometimes confused, but trying their best. The kitchen lags sometimes. But it should be noted they've only been open a couple of weeks and it takes time for these things to come together. Last night was their busiest yet.

Our waiter told us that customers are balking at the steaks poached in butter. They want the steaks but they don't want to hear about them being poached in butter. I asked if my chicken was poached in butter. Thankfully, no. There are many options not poached in butter.

As for the scene. It's a wood, glass and metal room. The din is high. I prefer the first dining room with the booths. It is cozier. The second dining room by the kitchen is too vast and lacks intimacy. It feels less special. People table hop a lot. There's a mild frat house vibe. But this will be popular with younger customers who like and expect that kind of casual scene. It is definitely the opposite of stodgy. If you took Cafe Milano and reduced the mean age by 20 years - and all the boob jobs and botox - you'd have a fix on Bourbon Steak last night.

General Manager MARK POLITZER oversees it all with a calm attitude. They got him from Cityzen, which is a marverlously serene restaurant, and still the city's best for a delicious and elegant meal.

Even with all the youngins' at Bourbon Steak last night, there were some oldsters, too. Sitting at the table next to ours was TOM BROKAW with some friends. Across the room was ALAN GREENSPAN and ANDREA MITCHELL, having dinner with CHRISTOPHER DODD and his wife, JACKIE CLEGG. Honestly, they were hardly noticed by the raucous crowd, and they probably liked it that way.

It's good for Georgetown to have a new restaurant that's a big draw, and perhaps its good for the Four Seasons to change its image to suit a younger, partying customer. By all means, check it out tonight.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 17 ... Eery quiet out in the streets. Eery quiet last night out on the town. Where are the people? Last night I went to Citronelle for supper at the bar. Very quiet. Nearly empty. Walked home and looked in the windows of various restaurants, including Nathans, and it was about the same. Today, not many people walking around. The hair salon where I got a manicure was quiet. No limo gridlock outside The Four Seasons or Georgetown Ritz. What's going on? Where are the people? Where are the hordes? It will be a big fat bummer if the thousands and thousands of expected visitors got largely scared away by the media's dire warnings. So many supplies have been ordered to feed to these people. We don't want it to go to waste.

There was a party at Cafe Milano last night. Maybe that was the drain. But I wonder? We walked by Milano around 9 pm and it was quiet. I was invited but in the most compromised way. I expressed a desire to attend in my capacity as New York Social Diary. Franco Nuschesne the owner said there was no room for me. The list was maxed out. That was earlier in the week. He called me Thursday night and said "maybe." Then he called me yesterday, Friday, and said he had 600 people coming and there was no room for me, that the Secret Service and DC Police were being very strict about the numbers. He said, "also, you have to understand this is not my party. It is the Cafe Milano Foundation. I don't control the list, but you can come after 11 if you want." Ha ha. I'm in bed at 11. No party is that important - ever. Thanks, Franco, but no thanks.

Besides, I had a fun dinner at the Cit Bar with my son, his ex-babysitter, who's now an executive with Microsoft in NY, and her sister, who is from Philadelphia. Both are in town for the Inauguration and we had a warm and wonderful reunion. Then they went off to party with Jay-Z.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16... In a new column on New York Social Diary today the headline is "Remember the War?" You can read it here.

Oh, what a day. For those who follow this epic drama, we are deep in negotiations with the landlords to try to find a way to keep Nathans operating at Wisconsin and M. Oh how I wish I had a partner with money, restaurant smarts, integrity, and a reasonable grasp of honesty. Those kinds of people are few and far between in this business. For all intents and purposes, Jon Moss is my better half in business, but soon Jon will leave to continue his journey in professional life. Either Nathans will close and Jon will move on, or we'll get a new lease and Jon will move on. He's half my age, but we've built a good working relationship. It helps that neither of us has prior restaurant experience. Of any sort.

And then there's Black Op. He's been on this project three years and still says he's never seen anything like it in his career. Daunting.

I actually have no idea what's going to happen with Nathans. The future is as murky as ever. The landlords have changed lawyers. They've given us a proposal. We have to come to terms. But I also have to be ready to walk away. I'm virtually there. The only pause is I'm a solo parent. My son goes to college in 18 months. All the money I saved for his college has gone into Nathans. I have to be responsible and make responsible decisions, even if that may mean staying in a business that is not my natural habitat. So I have to be ready to walk away, but I may not have that freedom.

As I said, what a day.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15 ... Today the Obama family move to Blair House. Must be exicting. Have you been near the Hay-Adams and Lafayette Park? It's a whole lot of concrete barriers and cops and Secret Service. Can't imagine the impact on area businesses. I guess we should be thankful the Obamas did not check into the Four Seasons or all of Georgetown would have been shut down. Oprah wanted to shoot her TV show in front of Nathans, which would have meant we had to close the restaurant while she did her work. No way, Jon Moss told the guy scouting the location.

Of the thousand inaugural parties happening over the next several days, I play to attend five. Otherwise, I'm going to wander and mingle or plop on the sofa and watch events on TV.

This morning I intend to walk to the mall to photograph the 40,000 porta potties. It's quite a vision if you haven't been down there to check it out. A Potemkin Village of toilets.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13 ... New column on New York Social Diary today. You can read it here.

Today I got this really helpful memo that outlines the details of the "sercurity perimeter." If you are thinking of heading downtown for the swearing in, or to watch the parade, and plan to go inside the "security perimeter," this is essential reading:

"The area of downtown between the Capitol and the White House is included within the Secret Service's security perimeter. That includes our office along the parade route. In order to get to our reception, you will need to go through one of two checkpoints at either 7th & D Streets or 10th and E Streets. Everyone entering the downtown area to watch the swearing-in and the parade will have to go through a magnetometer and have their bags searched (similar to an airport passenger screening).

Regardless of the weather conditions, umbrellas will not be permitted. Other prohibited items include: Firearms (real or simulated); Explosives (including fireworks); Knives or sharp objects of any length; Mace and pepper spray; Signs and sign-poles; Packages; Backpacks; Large bags; Duffel bags; Suitcases; Thermoses; Coolers; Strollers; Laser pointers, Animals (other than service animals); and Alcoholic beverages. Security screeners have the discretion to bar any item they deem to pose a threat to security.

The Security Perimeter will go up at 4 am and no one will be allowed into the area until the checkpoints open and begin screening people at 7 am. The Secret Service believes you should expect a two hour wait to clear the check points. The checkpoints will close at 2 pm and no one will be allowed to enter the area after 2 pm until after the Inaugural Parade is over.

Inside the Perimeter: Once you are cleared, you can walk throughout the
secured area, but you will not be allowed to cross Pennsylvania Avenue (even on foot). Unlike the previous Inaugural, the number of people along the parade route will not be limited, so expect significant crowds around Pennsylvania Avenue."

MONDAY, JANUARY 12 ... Today I received an 8-page memo outlining all the road closures and vehicle restrictions for the inauguration. If you want a copy, send me an email and I will send it to you.

I've reached the point of actually being almost disgusted by the party madness. Why so many? So very very very many? I even know of a hamburger joint that's having a ball! (Hey, it might be one of the good ones) For $99 a person. That includes mini-burgers and champagne. For what it's worth, you can come to Nathans and have mini-burgers and champagne for a whole lot less.

I was at an appointment today. Well, if you must know, a manicure. Across from me a woman asked, "Are you the owner of Nathans?" Alas, that's me. "What can we do to help save it?" she asked. "Can we send around a petitition." She said she's a lobbyist downtown, lives near the Convention Center, but is a loyal Nathans patron. I gave her the complete update - that the landlords came to visit us, asked what it would take for us to stay in business, we gave them a rational proposal, and now we wait. That meeting occurred before Christmas. We wait. And wait, but we can't wait too much longer.

Someone approached us with a new location, and it's actually close to Nathans and pretty nifty and would be a very cool restaurant, much more to my taste than the corner of Wisconsin and M. However, and that's a big however, I need somebody to back it, invest it, make it happen with $$$. I can certainly attach my name and the staff's skills, but we have deficit money. Is there anybody out there who has a loose million or so to invest in a new Nathans?

That's what I thought.

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Swimming in QuicksandA Daily Journal of Survival By Carol Joynt

Swimming in Quicksand
A Daily Journal of Survival
By Carol Joynt