Tonight the puppy discreetly consumed an entire bowl of chocolate icing. We called the vet, who suggested that we induce vomiting by smearing some peanut butter on the bottom of his food dish and covering it with hydrogen peroxide (the amount varies based on the weight of the dog). So, I spent part of my Friday PM cleaning this sludge off the floor with the mom, who was wearing a Missoni dress and YSL lacquered toenails. I guess neither of us envisioned this sort of evening.

On the other side of the planet (actually just down on Prince St.), an acquaintance is singing at a miniature fashion show, complete with after-party. Bah.

Tomorrow is G's birthday party. Take a dozen screaming girls, combine with sugar, sugar, messy taco ingredients, trampolines, and a trapeze. Bound to be at least memorable, if not disastrous.

I started watching "I'm Not There" this evening, but I think I'm really more in the mood for a classic, linear, feel-good film. Or perhaps I will watch Taxi Driver.