Intern Intensity
by Betsey Morgenstern
ED2010.com Reporter

Internships can be your foot in the door to a career in the ever expanding empire of print publications, but they can also be hard, crazy, and full of drama. Just ask Bryn Leavemeoutofthis and Susie Stockingstuffer, who are currently interning at Elle magazine and People's Revolution PR, respectively. I talked to the two of them about their work, their coworkers, and what they hope to get out of this experience.

Hey Bryn, tell us about your job at Elle?
I'm the accessories intern, so I help on all the shoots for the bags, shoes, bangles, and things like that. I also go to all the stores and pick up the things that the editors pulled for the big photo shoots and then I have to keep track of everything and where it goes and make sure it doesn't get damaged and then take it all back. Sometimes I have to make coffee, but I never have to get lunch because no one at Elle eats!

Who is your supervisor?
Officially I report to PR chief Erin Kaplan, even though she's not an editor, but I let everyone order me around.

Tell us about a recent assignment you had?
Just last week, I had to accompany accessories editor Olivia Palermo when she went to this super hot boutique in SoHo that you've probably never heard of. It's called Mango, and it's just the awesomest store ever. Well, we had to pull four looks for an upcoming Today show segment that Erin was getting together but Joe Zee [the magazine's creative director] would be giving on air. It was something about looks that a girl would like and a boy would like. I didn't understand exactly what, but Erin said, "Babysit Olivia," so I thought I just had to make sure she didn't hurt herself or do anything too stupid.

Anyway, we go to Mango and she starts taking stuff off the racks. She moves really slowly, like she is always thinking about what party she is going to go to later that night or fantasizing about her really hot boyfriend. When we have a bunch of things together, she has decided that's all we're pulling from the store. Last time I had to "babysit Olivia" she didn't pull enough clothes and Erin got all mad and yelled at us. All I want as an intern is not to get yelled at, so it was pretty bad for me. Then Erin sent me to pull a few more outfits and took all the credit and said she did it herself. That's fine with me. I said, "Thank you" and brought her coffee just the way she likes it—black with a little bit of baby's blood.

So, I told Olivia, "Maybe we should get some more stuff." And she was like, "Naw, this is good. I have to go home and listen to Tribe Called Quest and smoke a few bowls before I go to the American Association to Beat Spina Bifida benefit tonight at the Armory, so I'm gonna peace out." So I asked her, "Erin is going to be pissed." She didn't respond, she just yawned and walked out the door.

What happened? Was Erin pissed?
Later that week we had a model fitting. One of the models was this huge fat girl. She was a size 16! What does she eat for lunch? Fried lard? I had on this really cute off-one-shoulder short dress that my friend Serena van der Woodsen lent me when she was done with it. She said the skirt was too long. I almost ruined my dress because Olivia pulled a size 14 for her and we had to pull the dress over her giant fat body. It was like putting a baseball through a garden hose.

Erin showed up and said it was too tight. Olivia was like, "My eyes are really bloodshot and squinty right now, so it looks fine to me." Erin asked to see the rest of the looks and then she told her there weren't anymore because all the stores in Manhattan were having a really bad clothes shortage. I was so angry. I told Olivia we needed more options. Now I'm going to have to go back to Mango—which is my favorite store, but still—and get more outfits. Olivia and Erin start getting into this fight, and I'm just taking notes in my book trying to stay out of the whole mess.

You don't like when there's drama at work?
Not really. Mostly I just want to try on all the different belts and look at shoes and purses. I must be working in the wrong office, because they are always going at each other.

So what happened with Olivia and Erin?
They're getting into it, but Olivia wasn't getting as worked up as Erin and then she says, "Would you talk to Joe like that?" and Erin was flabbergasted, like Olivia just compared herself to a bald Asian guy. She has way too much hair to be Joe Zee! Then Erin asked me to leave the room.

What did you do?
Duh, I left the room.

Did you listen in at the door? That's what I would have done.
Yeah, I did for a second, but all I could hear was the sound of slapping and I knew that Erin finally got physical with Olivia. I was almost to the end of the hall and the door burst open and Erin came out and shouted, "Take it all back!" and then slammed the door. I was so scared I ran back to my desk.

Did Erin see you or something?
Yes and she was said, "Yoo-hoo. Bryn. Come here for a second," being all like fake sweet. I pretended not to hear her and scurried back to my desk looking at my notes like I didn't know what was going on. She followed me all the way there.

What did she say? Did she attack you?
No. I think she got all her aggression out on Olivia. She told me that she wasn't disappointed in me, because I'm always nice and helpful and I kill the babies the right way so that her coffee is always good. She said it was Olivia that didn't deserve to be there. Basically, she hopes that Olivia fucks up the Today show segment so bad that Joe Zee fires her. Then she told me to go to Mango and get more clothes, but to make it look like she was the one doing it. I said fine and left.

Did you tell her to fire Olivia and hire you instead? That's what I would have done.
No, but that's a good thought.

Will you give Erin my resume?
Sure!

Now we're going to talk to Suzie Stockingstuffer. Hi Suzie, tell us about your internship.
I've spent this whole semester at People's Revolution PR, which does fashion PR. It's located in SoHo and run by Kelly Kutrone, who is this like super famous PR lady. She even got Eliot Spitzer's hooker girlfriend into a fashion show. Can you believe that? Anyway, she doesn't call us interns, she calls us punching bags.

Is that what it feels like? Do you have bruises?
Only small ones, but that's because Roxy Carmichael Olin showed up. Now she mostly beats up on her. Kelly continues to let her work there, even though her complete hatred for Roxy is as obvious as her bad skin.

Tell us a little bit about Kelly. She sure has a way with words!
Yes, she does. I haven't been on the receiving end of one of her colorfully worded rants in a while. When you're not the one getting yelled at, she sure is a lot of fun to listen to.

Who does she usually yell at?
Lately just Roxy. We had a model casting recently for Whitney Port's look book for her clothing line and it was a disaster. Roxy got all these models and they didn't fit the look Kelly wanted and she screamed, "This is supposed to be a fairy tea part, not a goth nightmare!" She sent all the models home but three and told Roxy go to back to Model Depot and pick up some fresh ones. She was happy with the next selections.

You know, Whitney used to date my boyfriend Freddie Fackelmayer?
Oh, you're the ex he got back together with? You're much nicer than Roxy and Whitney made you out to be.

What did they say about me?
Not much really. Um...

No, seriously, tell me!
Can we get back to the interview.

Sure, but only if you tell me a mean story about Whitney.
Well, there's not that much mean to say about her other than that she's really passive aggressive. We had the shoot for her look book with this guy Patrik Andersson. He's this like super famous fashion photographer but he said he'd do the shoot for free if they would put him on television. They agreed.

We're up on this super cool rooftop set with all these fairy lights and these three pretty girl models who are in Whitney's clothes and it's all looking super great. Roxy thinks it's boring though, because they weren't being all active and snorting coke and dancing on banquettes. She wants to start a food fight. Kelly pulls her aside and says, "You stupid cunt, you're going to get food on the clothes. This is Whitney's shoot. Shut the fuck up and don't do anything. I would fire you if MTV would let me."

Roxy backs off for a while but then right when everything is about to wrap Roxy is like, "Come on, let her pop a bottle of champagne and then all the other girls will laugh like it's the funniest shit they ever saw in their lives." Whitney agrees, because she'll pretty much do anything you tell her to. They set up the shot, but the model can't figure out how to pop the champagne, so when she tries to, she just drops the bottle and it breaks and gets booze all over the dress.

Whitney is pissed, and you can tell because she scrunches her face up like a used Kleenex in a boy's dorm bathroom, and she keeps telling Roxy she's not mad. Then they get in a food fight and laugh and laugh, and I ran because the last time I got Devil's Food Cake in my hair, it took like two weeks to get out.

Was Kelly pissed at Roxy?
She's always pissed at Roxy, but she seemed more pissed than usual.

Is she going to fire her?
I think she left that decision up to Whitney for the "season finale," whatever that means.

Well, if she does, will you give her my resume?

Zac Attack at The Gates
By Betsey Morgenstern
SceneBSeen.com Senior Social Correspondent

It was another Roman bacchanal last night at neo-classical hotspot The Gates in Chelsea (is it still Chelsea if it's above 23rd Street?). Many managed to weasel their way past the velvet rope of the private club that has been ever more public ever since getting a great mention on Gossip Girl a few weeks back. Maybe Chuck Bass could utter my name once and then I would be just as popular. Oh, just kidding.

I certainly wasn't the center of attention, not with Whitney Port and Sammie Whatshername in attendance, lending moral support to their friend Roxy Carmichael Olin who was there to meet her new love interest Zac. We thought she was going to light the potted palms on fire when Zac walked in flanked by Jessica Stam, Brooklyn Decker, Agynnes Deyn, Chanel Iman, Shocklineva Costicova, and a certain reporter (me!). We sat down at a table nearby and ordered white wine spritzers, because they are Brooklyn's favorite and her husband, Andy Roddick was buying. Thanks, Andy!

It was hard to enjoy the wonderful cocktails thanks to all the glares coming at us from the three ladies nearby. Shocklineva leaned over and asked Zac what the deal was and he said that he and Roxy Carmichael Olin were friends back in L.A. and had drinks a few times in New York and he thought that RCO was harboring a little crush on him. It is obviously a crush that wasn't requited. Why would he mess with Roxy when he was out at a club with five models and a girl who constantly got offers to model when she was in J school, but was far too busy knocking on doors of apartments in Harlem to inquire about neighborhood shootings to do shootings for Vogue.

Anyway, Zac was telling us all about how they had drinks the other night and Roxy thought it was a date, even though the whole time she was talking about how Whitney was out with some boy named Patrick. As Zac tells it, Sammie had set Whitney up on a blind date with a boy she worked with at Bergdorf who is obviously gay. While at dinner, the boy, while cute, was a total jerk. She asked him where to get some "dunks" and he said, "You get dunks where they sell dunks, but you can only get dunks if you ask for dunks and you have to know what dunks are. And not Dunkaroos either, even though I loved that snack as a kid. I mean real real dunks that are only dunky enough to be dunks." Next he referred to Louis Vuitton as LV, and Whitney thought he meant 55, which is what it would be in Roman numerals. Then when the bill came, he dared to ask Whitney to "join forces" on paying the check. After dating the dashing and very generous Freddie Fackelmayer (who just celebrated our one month anniversary together by taking me out to dinner at Rouge Tomate, full disclosure!) he's going to need to do more to impress her.

I told Zac that he better go over there and straighten the girls out, so he walked over and plopped himself down next to Whitney. Roxy climbed over her friend and put a full-on stranglehold on Zac, accusing him of being fake and rude and drawing a Sharpee mustache on her that time she passed out drunk on Danny Masterson's couch. As usual Whitney got all flustered as soon as there was any conflict and everyone kind of forgot about Sammie, who was up at the bar hitting on Agynness Deyn, who does look very cute with her new haircut.

When Zac came back, he was pretty flustered, but we were determined to have a good time, so Shocklineva busted out her eightball and we did a few lines right there off the table. Roxy was still giving us the stink eye and I just couldn't stand looking at her anymore. That's when I started making out with Zac. I didn't do it to make her mad, it just sort of happened, and next thing you know, Jessica Stam has her hand on my boob and Sammie is lip locked with Agyness. Zac just leaned back nodding and smiling, his arms splayed out of the back of the couch as if he was the emperor of all of Rome and seven Phoenician slaves were making out just for him. No wonder he was completely oblivious to what little Roxy was thinking about him.

We left about three hours later, lipstick smeared, nose on fire, and only two white wine spritzer glasses broken. Brooklyn invited me to her Elle shoot the next day, which was going to be rough, but fun.

A Fashion Tree Grows in Brooklyn
by Betsey Morgenstern
SceneBSeen.com Senior Social Correspondent

No fashion magazine worth the paper its printed on would dare shoot in Brooklyn, but they are all clamoring to shoot Brooklyn Decker, the swimsuit model who is also married to tennis superstar Andy Roddick. Brooklyn, who I first met when she hosted a party thrown by Elle Magazine, Lycra, and People's Revolution PR at Miami International Fashion Week, is again working for Elle, but this time doing a shoot for the magazine. Creative Director Joe Zee had the vision of putting her in clothing inspired by menswear, like fedoras, jackets, and pants. With her athletic frame it was a natural fit. At one point accessories editor Olivia Palermo added a watch to the outfit. It was her only contribution of the day, but before that watch, Brooklyn was like a birthday cake with no candles. Way to go, Olivia.

After perusing the accessories table, they took Brooklyn up to the roof. As we were about to go out, we heard Zee fighting with Elle PR mastermind Erin Kaplan about her favorite subject, the ineptitude of Olivia. Erin was saying that she had to fight for everything she has where everyone expects her to just hold Olivia's hand until she's competent, and that's not fair. Joe thinks that Olivia is doing a great job and maybe, just maybe, Erin isn't managing her correctly. You mean barely masked scorn isn't a successful managing strategy? That's when we walked out and interrupted, and Brooklyn asked if she could hang off the structures on the roof and over the Midtown East traffic below. They said, "Genius!" She also proposed the headline of the article be "Double Decker" and they could transpose images of her on top of each other. They said, "Brilliant." Then she asked everyone to go to dinner at Rouge Tomate after the show, and they said, "Of course!"

Once the shoot wrapped, Brooklyn had a "headache" (possibly from white wine spritzers the night before at The Gates) and didn't go to dinner, but i tagged along with Joe Zee, Kaplan, and Palermo. There we met up with Robbie Meyers, editor-in-chief of Elle magazine and Nina Garcia's bête noire; Candice Rainey, an Elle senior editor who has taken a vow of silence; and Gabe Saporta and Ryland Blackinton of the band Cobra Starship.

As soon as we sat down Meyers was asking about the shoot. Joe Zee filled her in and let her know what a great team Olivia and Erin are. They're a regular Krystal and Alexis, but both blond. Olivia was beaming, as she always does at the sound of her own name, and Erin was stuffing her face with bread. Chewing might have kept the mean words out of her mouth, but not the evil expression off of her face. Robbie fell for it, and feel for Palermo, like everyone always does, even asking her to help pick out a dress for some Women in Hollywood soiree they're having. With that, she dragged Joe Zee outside because they had a better party to go to at The Box. Something to do with Levi Johnston and a porn award.

I wasn't paying attention, I was waiting to see if Erin could actually turn Olivia to stone with her eyes. Just as her face was beginning to look a little marbley, Olivia got up to leave. Before she had even gotten out the front door, Kaplan let everyone know that she thought Olivia was horrible at her job and lazy and stupid. Doesn't she have anything else to talk about? Maybe she should find out what Cobra Starship is listening to and write a story about hip new music. Or maybe everyone wants to talk about Jersey Shore, the new reality television program that is sure to revolutionize the world? No, she just binged on more carbs, and I excused myself to meet Freddie (my boyfriend, full disclosure!) at the bar for a hard-earned cocktail. Thanks to Brooklyn Decker, I'm drinking white wine spritzers. And make it a double, Decker!

No Room and an In
By Betsey Morgenstern
944 Magazine Assistant Contributing Society Editor

Miami International Fashion Week is in full swing, so there are even more parties than usual. Last night Whitney Port and Roxy Carmichael Olin descended on The Florida Room in the Delano Hotel for a pre-party for a fashion show. The party was so excellent, no one quite knew which brand they were celebrating, and the band was so bad that no one quite knew who they were.

That didn't stop Roxy Carmichael Olin from dancing on the banquette like a low-class Paris Hilton and dragging Nick Soandso up there with her. As soon as they found out they both went to Harvard, it was a deep and animal lust that attracted them. As soon as Whitney took a minute out to powder her nose (wink wink) he asked Roxy to leave. Without a second thought of her friend, she was out the door in search of the next party. In fact, Roxy had been complaining ever since they got to Miami about being put on a budget by People's Revolution boss Kelly Cutrone. All she wanted to do was lie out and eat room service and party. Luckily her cohort Whitney has her head about her and didn't let this happen.

But that didn't stop Roxy from leaving Whintey all alone and defenseless in the club. A reporter tailed Roxy and Nick as they left. First it was more drinks at Mynt Lounge, but Roxy was way too antsy for the sedate crowd. Nick took her over to SET to dance the night away and after they bumped into well known man-about-town Pookie "Candyman" Collins, they were bumping all night long (wink wink take two). They caused quite a scene, especially when Roxy popped a bottle of Cristal and poured it all over her body like she was living in a rap video fantasy world. Nick got down on his knees and wrung out her champagne-drenched skirt and drank the nectar as some of it oozed down his neck. He then started kissing up her thigh, his head disappearing underneath the soggy seam of her drenched dress. Roxy let her head fall back as her eyes closed and her mouth opened. It looked like she was moaning, but the new remix of Shakira's "She Wolf" was so loud, no one could hear a thing. After pushing his head out from underneath her skirt she grabbed his arm and ran for the exit.

They gave me—I mean, a reporter—the slip but it sounds like they were headed back to Nick's to continue the party. No wonder poor Roxy was late to work the next day!

Bathing Beauties at Mara Hoffman
by Betsey Morgenstern
944 Magazine Assistant Contributing Fashion Editor

Miami International Fashion Week isn't just about world-famous designers like Agatha Ruiz de la Prada, Munib Nawaz, and Amato Couture but it's really all about the fashion shows. Today it was time for the biggest bash of them all: The Mara Hoffman collection was presented at Soho Studios. Everything was glorious.

Show director Kelly Cutrone, the head boss at New York's trendy fashion PR firm People's Revolution said she had a hard time at the casting, but what do you expect from a pasty New Yorker who wears all black to the beach! After making fun of the model's faces and walks, she had a nice stable of hoofers to walk Hoffman's swimwear down the catwalk.

Before the show started, we saw Erin Kaplan and Olivia Palermo of Elle Magazine giving each other a chilly reception in the front row. After sauntering back to her seat from behind the stage, Kaplan peppered Palermo with questions: "Why aren't you taking notes? Are you going to the trade shows? Why don't you like me? God gave me brains, but why didn't he make me as pretty and rich as you? Is that fair?" Olivia just stared blankly at her shoes, moving her toes ever so slightly to watch the way the light reflected on her pedicure. It was as if she could just ignore the questions away.

It was then that we heard the sound of an argument coming from backstage, and it sounded like People's Revolution PR girls Roxy Carmichael Olin and Whitney Port (who just broke up with my boyfriend Freddie Fackelmayer, full disclosure!).
"Where were you last night?" Whitney shouted.
"I thought you left," Roxy slurred back.
"No, I didn't leave, I said I'd be right back."
"But you didn't come back, so I didn't think you were coming back. Nick and I left. That place was boring."
"Yeah, it was real boring without you. And you're late. And why do you smell like stale champagne?"
That's when Kelly Cutrone walked by, slammed their heads together and just kept walking.

Her intervention must have worked, because the show went off without a hitch. There were lots of one-piece suits and futuristic cuts (as Olivia noted). Our favorite was a silver metallic, square bikini with a flowing printed caftan over it. There were lots of geometric prints, that would fit right in with the international stoner set that loves to litter Miami's beaches. The models did walk a little slow and didn't smile much. What is up with that?

One Elle of an Afterparty
by Betsey Morgenstern
944 Magazine Assistant Contributing Fashion and Social Editor

With models in pink wigs and swimsuits lounging on boxes by the pool, Elle Magazine and Lycra's afterparty for Mara Hoffman's fashion show was the hit of Miami International fashion week. The W Hotel pool was transformed by the staff of the magazine and ace PR girl Erin Kaplan, who picked out the wigs herself. She said she was inspired by the time she and her girlfriends went as a pack of slutty flight attendants for Halloween and she saw the same raunchy joy in Hoffman's designs and wanted to channel that for the party's living decorations.

Loving the wigs was host Brooklyn Decker, who stole one off a model's head and was parading around with it half-cocked on her head for most of the evening. Kaplan was seen chatting with Elle's executive fashion editor Judi Sanders at the party, and it seems like she was carrying on about her favorite subject Olivia Palermo. She was bitching about how her socialite coworker didn't go to the crumby trade shows during fashion week (neither did I, because they sound too much like swap meets and that sounds like something that poor people would go to). She was also complaining that Olivia didn't take notes at the fashion show and how was she going to remember the very, very important and groundbreaking fashions they just witnessed without notes.

Olivia was off talking to designer Red Carter, who is not at all related to Red Buttons, but he does look a little bit like him. She then approached Saunders who told Palermo that bitch Erin Kaplan had been talking shit about her. No she said, and I quote, "That bitch Erin has been talking shit about you." Olivia didn't know what to do. She couldn't stare at her toes like she usually does, so she asked Saunders for advice. This is what the wise old editor had to say:

"Here's how it's going to go down. You're going to be in a meeting with Joe Z and he's going to ask about the trade shows. Say you didn't know anything about them. That's definitely going to piss Erin off and she's going to say she told you about them. Make it look like it's her fault that you didn't go. She'll hate that and take the offensive. Joe just wants everyone to get along because he's a pussy. Just agree with everything Joe says about being a team player and wanting to work with Erin while she sits there making her sour face. You don't even have to seem sincere. Being nice is Erin's kryptonite. It will render her silent. You'll look like the winner and she'll look like the mean lady who doesn't want to help out. This is the only way you can save yourself in Joe's eyes."

Olivia was nodding furiously, so we hope she took her advice. We'll know next time we check the masthead at Elle if it's missing an accessories editor! But then we just grabbed another glass of free champagne and did another lap of the party. Conspicuously absent were the People's Revolution crew. We heard that after a hard night of partying Whitney Port and Roxy Carmichael Olin ordered up $200 worth of room service! Who do they think is going to pay for that? When Kelly Cutrone gets that bill they're going to wish they ate Taco Bell instead.

Well, we're going to be paying for all the champagne we drank for about a week. But what a glorious time we had. Why can't every week be Miami International Fashion Week? We'll never know.

Stars Cross the Lily Pond
by Betsey Morgenstern
Hamptons.com Contributor

Last night there was another packed crowd at the Lily Pond, the hottest nightclub in all of East Hampton, and the dance floor was especially star studded, with the likes of Whitney Port, Roxy Carmichael Olin, and Sammie Somethingorother in town for the weekend staying at the Fackelmayer's luxe compound. Nearly identical brothers Freddie and Harry couldn't have been dressed more differently for the late night fun. Harry came wearing a T-shirt and shorts, looking like he just finished a shift at the Crab Shack down the street and was stopping by for a drink on his way home. The buff and bronzed Freddie, however, was wearing an open tuxedo shirt and jacket, looking like he had just been thrown out of the End Alopecia Now benefit that was happening earlier that evening at McGuffan's Farm.

While the gemini brothers couldn't have looked more different, they both had the same goal: to score with Whitney. Apparently Whitney insisted on bringing her friend Roxy C.O. along for the weekend, much to everyone's chagrin. We hear that Sammy tried to swerve her Audi when Roxy was sticking her head out the sunroof so that she would be hurled headlong into the gutter, never to bray or instigate ever again. Her plan did not work. Neither of the Fackelmayers, with their upper-class, East Coast cool, could stand the brash California girl, and she was left to do the Tiffani dance all by herself while wearing a pair of glowing green sunglasses.

Harry (who I met when dating his brother Freddie, full disclosure!) ambled over and told me that he was thinking of hitting on Sammy, but she just wasn't that cute, and was on the prowl for another girl. I said, "What about Whitney. She's really giving you the signals."

At that moment, she was on the dance floor grinding with Freddie, who was popping the cork off a bottle of champagne and making sure that his girl was having a good time. I told Harry, who was a little drunk, that was the chance to make his move. He went in to kiss her, but Whitney kept turning her head. "I love you," I overheard him say as I sat on a banquette nearby watching the action. Freddie could clearly see the scene play out, and he bent over and shouted something to Roxy C.O., but I couldn't hear over the thump of the music from DJ Skeezy, who once asked me if I would do a line of coke off his penis. It's not as difficult as you would think.

Freddie made his way back over to Whitney, and Harry slumped over with the look of defeat all over his face where his limp bangs usually hang. I sat next to him and patted his knee and told him everything would be fine. As he slipped his hand under my blouse (but over the bra), I thought of an even better plan. "Hey, why don't you tell Whitney that I'm Freddie's girlfriend and that she should break up with him. Then maybe she'll sleep with you."

Harry weaved his way through the crowd of glamorous hangers on, stepped over Sammy, who was making out on the floor with Ship Needermacker, heir to the Needermacker frozen waffle fortune, and sidled up to Whitney. I swished my martini around and mustered up my biggest scowl as Harry whispered in her ear and Whitney's face festered with even more confusion that usual. It was like someone just told her that her little puppy hadn't been sent to a farm in Connecticut to live with Martha Stewart, but really wound up under the wheels of Lizzie Grubman's SUV. She grabbed Roxy C.O. and told Sammie to stop being a slut on the sticky floor of a suburban club because it was time to storm off in a huff.

I went over to Harry to ask what happened, and he slumped onto my shoulders like a lonely corpse. I patted his head and thought he was going to cry. Then he vomited down my back, and it was time to leave.

The next morning, I had to find out the scoop and hid out in the shed next to the Fackelmayer pool. As the brothers did cannonballs, I could see the three witches plotting inside throwing little ingredients into a cauldron. Sammie would stir and Roxy would throw back her head and emit painful bleats that made the boys cower like Glenn Close taking a shower in The Big Chill. They came downstairs and coven leader Roxy gave Freddie a piece of her mind, but Whitney wanted to do the talking. She changed a spell of truth, and Freddie had no choice to admit his girlfriend and say he was sorry, but offerend no explanation.

Then I burst out of the shed, leaves still in my hair and chucks of dried puke flaking off my dress and shouted, "It's me! He's in love with me!" and the witches screamed, running with hands over head like a gaggle of crazed hula dancers. They ran right to the Audi and shuttled back from the city. It might have been a shaky night, but this party ended with the best of mornings.

Interview with Betsey Morgenstern, Blogger for Stylehive.com
By Olivia Palermo

There are many style blogs on the internet, but the bloggiest belongs to Betsey Morgenstern, the girl who has something to do with Stylehive.com.

Olivia Palermo: Hi Betsey. How are you?
Betsey Morgenstern: I'm fine, how are....

OP: That's great to hear. So, how would you describe your personal style?
BM: Well, I really like a mix of fashion-forward and more...

OP: That's awesome. I have something like that myself. Who are your favorite designers?
BM: Right now I'm really into Jason...

OP: I'm friends with Phillip Lim. And I lost my virginity in Zac Posen's hot tub on Fire Island. What trends are you seeing now?
BM: The thing that's going to be a hit for fall is...

OP: Great. That's all I need.
BM: What? You wouldn't even let me say...

OP: I'm leaving. Bye.

We Are the Longchampions, My Friend
By Betsey Morgenstern
Accessories magazine party reporter

Last night Longchamp, a handbag brand that has given us so much joy over the years, decided to give back to the community by holding a benefit for KiptonART Foundation, which introduces poor, poor artists to all the rich gallery owners and collectors that are going to be buying their work. Oh, they give some money for needy kids who want to make art, but no one was talking about that, because it's a downer. Apparently, this costs a lot of money, and Kipton Cronkite, founder of the organization was very thankful that Elle magazine, Longchamp, and People's Revolution PR would throw him this bash.

In attendance was socialite and Elle accessories editor Olivia Palermo, a close personal friend of Cronkite's. She wore a black dress that looked like the molted skin of a rare snake and was slithering around mumbling about what a nightmare she was having. At one point, we saw her talking to Roxy Carmichael Olin, sometimes Brothers & Sisters guest star and daughter of Patricia Wettig and Ken Olin. For some reason, Palermo was introducing Olin to the photographer for Patrick McMullan and then told her to "go do her job." I was going to go ask Doug, the photographer, what the tiff was about, but he's still mad at me for that time I made out with him at Marquee and then wouldn't go home with him. It was a bad time for me, and I just wasn't ready for something other than a hair-mussing romp next to a bathroom attendant.

Roxy Carmichael Olin did not take this too well, and instead of making sure she was doing her job in front of her boss, People's Revolution honcho Kelly Cutrone, she instead went to Erin Kaplan, who isn't Olivia's boss but thinks she's is. They both think that Olivia has a bad attitude and can't do her job. Erin said she wants to get Olivia fired so bad, but she can't because their boss, Joe Zee (who couldn't make it because he was at the 20th anniversary party for the Rawhide leather bar in Chelsea), really likes Olivia. Erin was all squinty in her pink ruffley party dress, but Roxy Carmichael Olin had a real look of crazy deviousness on her face in a short dress that looked like she had to twist Magnum PI's bedsheets around her body and jump out the window just before Higgins barged in.

The only one who seemed to like Olivia at the party was her old friend (and, full disclosure, my ex-boyfriend) Freddie Fackelmayer, who looked as good as ever, but was woefully underdressed in just a robin egg shell blue shirt without a tie or jacket. Social gay Kristian Laliberte was telling me how tacky he thought Freddie looked and I told him to shut up, because the shirt really brought out the color of his eyes. When Freddie entered and greeted Olivia, I hovered near Roxy Carmichael Olin and Whitney Port, the aspiring designer that he is currently dating. They were abuzz about how much they couldn't stand Olivia and they both worried that Freddie might be a socialite just like her. They said it as if it was a bad thing. If only Tinsley Mortimer were here to smack some sense into them.

Whitney didn't want to go say hi while he was talking to Olivia, but once she left, she walked over and gave him a big hug. He should have told her how fat she looked in her too-short sparkly getup and how she mumbles and chews on her words like a three-day-old piece of Hubba Bubba. But he didn't. He apologized for bringing his father to meet her at dinner. And then—wait. He brought his father to meet her? We dated for months and he wouldn't even mention his parent's name in front of me. What gives, Freddie! What does Whitney have that I don't, other than a fleet of television cameras hanging around her?

Seething, I floated over to see Erin Kaplan and Kelly Cutrone deep in conversation, and they actually seemed to be making nice with each other. Who thought that two mean, unattractive, career-driven PR girls would have anything in common? Kelly was telling Erin how she started in magazine PR but then started her own company and now she only reps things that she thinks are awesome like Greasy Brand Hair Products, the color black, and Slankets.

Then Erin told Kelly that she doesn't know what it is about Olivia that she hates, but it seems to do with the fact that every time Olivia comes into the office Erin is on the phone. "Does she show up while I'm talking to someone hoping that I won't talk to her? And why won't she turn all the way around at her desk to talk to me? She only talks to me over her shoulder, like I'm some kind of colossal bother. If she spent as much time doing her job as she did doing her make up, she might get ahead in this business. But she doesn't. She's Horrible."

I was ready to leave, but Freddie was still talking to Whitney and they were laughing and giggling and making plans to go to Nantucket together and for some reason, I decided it would be a great time to call Jay Lyon, Whitney's ex-boyfriend.

"Hey, Jay, it's me, Betsey. No, Betsey Morgenstern. Remember, you held my hair once at that huge party at Billy Joel's in the Hamptons. Yes, that girl. No, I don't want to show you my bra again, I wanted to call and tell you something about your ex-girlfriend, Whitney. You're getting back together? She texted you and you two hooked up? Well, guess what—she's dating someone else. Yes, his name is Freddie Fackelmayer and he is a Wall Street boy with a golden tan and the bone structure of a German infantryman. I know, he is totally the opposite of you. And guess where they met? At a barbecue on your roof while you were away on tour. Can you believe that! Yes, you should totally call her up and have dinner with her. You're right, she is totally going to hate being called out on meeting a boy at your house. But don't tell her you heard it from me, I had nothing to do with it. No, not Betty. It's Betsey. Betsey Morgen—whatever, I don't care if you know my name, just break them up! Talk to you soon."

Sure, a handbag party might not have been the best place to make that call, but I scooted out the back door, so that Freddie and Whitney wouldn't see me and suspect that something is up. My mind spinning with a night full of celebrity spotting, cheap champagne, and some fumes from the glue donated to the little kids of the KiptonART Foundation, I hobbled home along the cobbles of SoHo, to a full night of dreaming of being with Freddie once again.

Back to the Beach: Lifeguards Took Over Bergdorf
By Betsey Morgenstern
Guestofaguest.com Contributor

Last night everyone who was anyone under the age of thirty was at Bergdorf Goodman for Matt Albiani's photo book Lifeguard on Duty. Of course plenty of the lifeguards decorating the pages with their prodigious pectorals were in attendance and that brought out all the girls who were looking for a little piece of meat. As always with in-store shindigs, things got a little messy, especially when Tinsley Mortimer tripped over Fabiola Beracasa's wedge heel and spilled her vodka and cran all over a white baby seal gown that was hanging nearby. Let's hope she pays for dry cleaning!

By far the most interesting person in attendance, or at least the one attracting the most attention, was Whitney Port. We went over to the shoe department and she told me how earlier in the day, she and fellow PR girl Sammie Somethingorother were in Jeffrey boutique in the Meatpacking. They were talking about the party that night and how they needed a different pair of shoes for the type of guys they wanted to pick up. She even gave me a demonstration: white booties for hipsters, gold strappy gladiator sandals for the metrosexual, and boring flats for the Wall Street boys.

We wonder what kind of heels attracted Greenwich hottie and Nantucket lifeguard Harry Fackelmayer, because he was sniffing around Whitney and Sammy all night. Apparently, Sammie is friends with Harry's brother, Freddie, so she invited him and his friend to a barbecue later that week. She invited me too. Left off the guestlist is Roxy Carmichael, Whitney's friend and coworker who Sammie is not a big fan of. We wouldn't know what it's like to be slighted, but when you're a at a party as hot as this, it's gotta burn.

One Elle of a Party
By Betsey Morgenstern
Guestofaguest.com Contributor

It was an intimate affair for about 100 people at the book-strewn home of Elle magazine publisher Carol Smith, who stunned everyone in a pink gown that she must have borrowed from the fashion closet. I'm not entirely sure what the party was for, and I was too busy eating delicious sliders and french fries in tiny white paper cones to even care! In attendance, the usual Elle crowd, EIC Robbie Meyers, creative director Joe Zee, and Hachette EVP Pilippe Guelton. There were supposedly some designers in attendance, but I didn't see any. Either that or I didn't recognize them because I was looking for more delicious tiny hamburgers.

The person really working the room was socialite and Elle accessories editor Olivia Palermo. Everyone was introducing themselves and wanted to get to know her. She looked stunning, with her blond hair pulled back into a bun and this huge gray necklace that would only be more delicious if it was made of french fries. Erin Kaplan didn't like it too much, because she was giving Olivia the stink eye across the room all night. Maybe if she didn't have such a shitty attitude someone would ask her where she got her ugly blue dress. Oops. Did I say that?

Anyway, she left in a huff before the party was over. We bet the next day she gave Olivia a hard time at the office, telling her that the party was really work and asking when all the designers Olivia met—wait, we mean all the designers Olivia already knew who she ran into at the party—were going to send exclusives for Elle. Olivia is a girl of many talents, but reading the future is not one of them! But you don't need a crystal ball to know that everyone had a blast—even those of us who were really at the party for work!

Raising the Roof with Adam Senn and Jay Lyon
By Betsey Morgenstern
Guestofaguest.com Contributor

It was a little hard to get to, but the barbecue on the roof of Adam Senn and Jay Lyon's apartment building that Whitney Port and Sammie Whatshername invited me to earlier in the week was totally worth the trouble of hiking up all those stairs. First I was introduced to Senn and his girlfriend Allie. I asked what they did and Adam said "I'm Allie's boyfriend," and Allie said, "I'm Adam's girlfriend." Well, it looks like we're dining on Tautology Rooftop tonight, folks. It wasn't odd at all for Port, the ex-girlfriend of Lyon to show up at the party, because Lyon wasn't in attendance. Boy, she was lucky not to run into an ex and have him stolen right from under her nose. That would really suck!

Port was also fortunate that she could show up at all. People's Revolution boss Kelly Cutrone needed someone to work late on a Bluefly proposal for product integration into this show called The City, and Roxy Carmichael agreed to take the shift so Whit could go and get her party on. We're surprised that she still has a job, when she shows up wearing oversized T-shirts, tattered leggings, and hooker heels. That can't do anything to improve Cutrone's reputation.

But thanks to Roxy, Whitney got to meet Freddie Fackelmayer, who is a dreamy finance type with a George Hamilton tan, Antonio Banderas hair, and a Ron Jeremy dick. Yes, I know that because (full disclosure!) we dated for a bit. I wasn't jealous that Whitney and Freddie hit it off so well. It was almost as if it was predestined, like someone arranged for them to meet and fall in love and go out for a very romantic dinner a few nights later where they smile into each other's eyes and laugh and giggle. No. I wasn't thinking about the summer plans they would make or how he would slip his arm around her waist while walking down the street after dinner or that enormous knit tent poncho thing that she would actually wear on a date and think was flattering. No. I was very calm and not drunk at all. And that was not me running out of the party with mascara streaming down my face. I am a party reporter and it is fun. Fun! We all had fun!

[PS—Betsey Morgenstern is not a real person and does not work for Guestofaguest.com. If you didn't figure that out, then you aren't bright enough to watch The City, and that is sad.]

Olivia Palermo Finally Does Something Right
By Betsey Morgenstern
New York Social Diary Staff Writer

Yesterday, Olivia Palermo finally learned what it was like to be a working girl, and it had nothing to do with being a hooker or Melanie Griffith. Socialite Palermo, who is now an accessories editor at Elle magazine, the fashion bible that lives to support any reality television program that appeals to a young female demographic, finally pleased her boss, Joe Zee, the chipper head of Elle.

"I was beginning to have my doubts, because every five minutes Erin, our head of publicity, is coming to me and telling me how horrible and incompetent Olivia is, but I knew she could do it," Zee told us in an exclusive interview. "She made my A to Z feature amazing with all the awesome accessories she pulled. I loved everything. She's going to be a star. And not like a crappy reality star, like a real magazine star!"

Palermo, who would not be interviewed for this story, made her victory lap thanks to meetings with Badgely Mischka, Rachel Roy, and Roberta Feymann and they gave her all the cool stuff to bring back to Joe Zee. She even took pictures of the their sunglasses, handbags, and necklaces and printed them out like real old pictures. Palermo's retro touch seemed to win over the boss.

"She's just so refined and elegant, and I would never give up the chance to have my goods appear in Elle," says Rachel Roy, one of New York's hottest designers.

"I'm the one who got her that meeting at Mischka," says Erin Kaplan, head of PR for Elle. "She couldn't have done this without me. Listen here, Betsey, I hate Olivia because she's prettier and richer than me and I had to work for everything in my life. I am going to get her fired. That's all I want. That and a coat made out of 101 dalmatians. And maybe half of my hair dyed black."

Maybe Whitney Port, who works at People's Revolution, the fashion PR firm headed up by batty-headed publicity maven Kelly Kutrone, could learn a thing or two from Palermo. After she showed Kutrone, who has no background in design, the sketches for her fashion line, Kutrone said not to show them to anyone. Roxy Carmichael, the gravelly voiced toxic friend who lives with Port convinced her to show the sketches to a buyer at Bergorf Goodman.

"I wanted to just laugh in her face, but there were all these cameras there, and I find it hard to laugh these days because of all the Botox," said the buyer, who would only give her first name, Sunni.

After her humiliation Kutrone scolded Port in her office and told her that she was talented, but she needs to know how to work her connections like Palermo. "Being a rich, beautiful socialite like Olivia Palermo will get you everywhere in life," says Kutrone. "I love Whitney, she's going to take off, but I'm not going to let her embarrass me before she does."

Roxy Carmichael would not return calls or emails requesting comment, but she was spotted smoking a cigarette in front of the People's Revolution office. When asked about her decision to convince Whitney to go to Bergdorf with the sketches, Carmichael said, "Fuck off," flicking a cigarette at a reporter.

Now that is a low-class movie that Olivia would never tolerate.

The trouble with Heidi and Spencer began with a visit from Stephanie to their glass coffin when Heidi confessed that she had eaten the poisoned apple and wanted to fall into the deep, deep sleep of motherhood. Spencer only cares about himself and hates kids. We find him to be deplorable but his decision not to spawn with Heidi means to be one of his smarter decisions, like every time he takes off one of his ridiculous hats. But Snow Heidi has enlisted Seven Dwarves of the Apocalypse, and their names are Giuseppe, Luigi, Antonioni, Malfi, Anthony, Vincente, and Enzo, and they are brought over to the house by their parents Caroline and Seth, who are Speidi's new neighbors.

This is all just a plan to get Spender (as Enzo calls him) to get hip to giving her some babies, because she is tired of shopping for clothes for herself and has been banned from just about every clothing store in the greater Los Angeles area, so for her to continue shopping, she must have a baby and enter into the untapped maternity/baby wear retail market. Hey Big Spender (duh da duh nah) is not down with this plan and when Heidi volunteers to babysit for the Seven Dwarves, Spender says "Hey, ho, it's off to work you go," and tells Seth and Caroline to go back to the queen with a deer's heart in a box.

Later, little Enzo escapes the witch's clutches and runs to the embrace of another harpy, Heidi, who puts him under the spell of some video games. The wee thing wails on the Wii and when Spender comes home, he refuses to babysit for free. This is what happily ever after looks like, ladies and gentleman, and we wish that Heidi would just slip back into her coma and leave the rest of us alone.

Once upon a time, Kristin was across town having a conversation with the producers that went something like this:
"Hey Mary from MTV, with your little clip board and denim miniskirt, why am I sitting at this restaurant to have lunch with Audrina and she's not here. Is she coming?"
"No, she's not. How do you feel about that? Are you angry? Show us angry."
"Yeah, I'm angry. At you for wasting my time! Did you know she wasn't coming?"
"Did you know she wasn't coming?"
"I thought she was coming because you set up this lunch and told me to be here. So, is she coming?"
"Well, no. We told her to, but then she went shopping and decided that she didn't want to."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"We were hoping you would throw a scene and make some angry phone calls when she didn't show up. And your cell phone is right here, why don't you pick it up and..."
"I don't want to talk on the phone, I want to have lunch. I'm starving, and I got my hair done all nice and now I have no one to eat with. Don't make me waste good hair on footage we can't even use. Who can you get here?"
"We can probably get Lo. She never has anything better to do."
"Alright get Lo over here."

Twenty minutes later, Lo arrives. They talk about something and we get a few good shots of Kristin's good hair. All is not lost.

Audrina was too busy worring about her new career as a medium. She figured that she looks like Jennifer Love Hewitt and that means that she has magic powers. Her first case was to help the lead singer of Vedera, who is possessed by the spirit of Natalie Imbruglia. The spiritual infestation caused her to cut her hair and play the piano and sing while coyly eyeing all the boys in the audience. Audrina thinks that by bringing her friends to the show, she can cure Natalie of her horrible condition, but it doesn't really work, because Audrina is soon possessed by the spirit as well, swaying back and forth and blinking at the stage with her big wide eyes of wonder. Until she feels a disturbance on the spirit plane.

Yes, across town Justin Bobby—who shaved and now looks like Vincent Chase's stunt double from the set of Aquaman after he had that concussion when a giant piece of kelp fell on his head—has arrived to Playhouse, a club where women are suspended from the ceiling for the enjoyment of spoiled L.A. teenagers. It's much like the movie Hostile, but the only hostiles here are everyone when Kristin shows up. She tells Justin Twonames that she just wants to be friends, but she really wants to take sweet revenge on Audrina by shaving her name into Justin Twonames ample pubic hair.

She does this by taking him off in the corner to secretly make out in front of everyone. Stephanie sees and she thinks "Aw shit, I'm going to have to tell Audrina and she is going to try to possess me with her new voodoo powers and make me go over to Kristin's house and cut off her pretty hair." Brody sees it and he thinks, "Damn, that really turns me on. I never realized just how hot Justin Twonames is. No wait, I can't be gay. I'm going to have to round up ten guys and go sit in a hot tub with them, because that is the straightest thing I could possibly do. Miss Female Illusionist Superstar 2006 Jayde sees it and, if she could think, she would think, "Wow, my tuck is really starting to hurt right now."

And then Maleficent turns into a dragon and devours them all and flies off to New York City, where her leather turds land on Canal Street and are shaped into fake purses on The City.

The light from the blinking neon signs of Times Square filters through the Venetian blinds and casts shadows across the face of femme fatale Erin, who goes to private dick Joe Z because she's having some trouble. Her man is seeing another lady called Olivia Palermo. "Not only is she a horrible person and bad at her job, but she looks better than me, with all her money and designer clothes and Rapunzel hair. We need to take her down. I don't have much money, but..." and she presses her manicured nails against Joe Z's well-tailed suit and leans in for a kiss lifting one stockinged leg up in the air. Joe Z turns away, lighting a cigarette and says, "I just don't swing that way, kid. You're going to have to try harder."

Madge Palermo has to go into the seedy underworld of Canal Street to buy some fake bags so that Erin can save her hide from an evil mob boss by producing a segment for the Today show. She got the idea by looking at Madge, who is a real Louis Vuitton, whereas she is the plastic kind that ladies fresh off the Sex and the City bus tour pick up in Chinatown. She hopes no one notices the difference. And if they do, she will slap them and they will say, "It's real." Slap. "It's fake." Slap. "It's real." Slap. "It's fake." Slap. "It's real and it's fake!"

Madge gets in a town car and rides downtown, where she walks down the steps of the subway so that a film crew can film her walking up the stairs and fool everyone in America to think that she rides the underground railroad. She may not take the J/M/Z, but she is on the underground railroad for counterfeit handbags where she meets singing folk hero Fucci Prado. This magical agent of cheap fake leather goods is on the lam from the authorities so he has encoded messages into a song which he sings while walking up and down the sidewalk with a magical menu of his wares. If his tune isn't loud enough, he has also figured out an intricate system of messages in his clothing that displays just what he has for sale and how much it costs.

Madge is wooed by his song and buys his goods, rushing away, but turning around to blow Fucci Prado a kiss and he ambles into the crowd, crooning his city ditty and happy at another good deed performed in the service of market capitalism. She takes her spoils back to the seedy motel that Elle is using for a headquarters, and Private Dick Joe Z is finally seduced by her haul. Erin grabs his crotch and squeals, "But Joe, we had a deal!" and he says, "I don't care, kid. The grass is always greener and you're put out to pasture." She turns on her heel and storms out grabbing her purse and mink stole off a wooden chair on her way out and then she quickly pivots and looks back at Joe Z and says, "You may want her now," and the camera closes in on her face, as a single tears rolls down her cheek from underneath her veil, "But just who is going to take you to the Today show?"

Across town, two other femme fatales are dealing with Whitney, who is like the boring good girl on the show that is written out after the first act, because watching villains is so much more fun. In this case it's Welcome Home, Roxy Carmichael and Kelly Cutthroat. Roxy Carmichael wants to be everyone's friend and she's trying really hard, even though she is mean and slutty. There's some sort of photo shoot for jeans and Whitney and RC have to drive a bunch of shit over. They don't bring the clips that they are supposed to, and Kelly, looking less haggard and puffy than usual, doesn't yell at them too much.

Then RC tells the client that he should have the model take her top off, because that is what she did after her senior prom, running along the beach with her boyfriend chasing her. It was night and dark and she stripped off her top while he chased her with camera in hand, and she held her ample breasts with one arm as she turned around doe-eyed and gazed into the lens, her eager Cassanova snapping away. As she feel backwards into the dunes, he kissed her so deeply. And in the morning, Cassie had slapped a Guess logo on the photos and sold them for millions of dollars, and all she had was a heart full of hurt and her hair full of sand.

The client loves the idea, and so does Kelly, but she wishes she had her own post-prom fantasy, and later, back at the office, she tells Roxy Carmichael that she is a very good slut, but next time, run her porno inspirations by her so that she can take credit for them. After all, she is the heroine of her own fairy tale, even though most people see her as the monster.

The big news for the sixth season is that Kristin Cavallari of Laguna Beach fame was returning to bitch it up after LC, the show's grand dame of drama, left for greener pastures. And those pastures are green with big money. Today it was announced that the Twilight team will adapt her novel into a movie. Earlier this year Audrina Partridge decided to call it quits for her own reality show and today Stephanie Pratt, the prattling sister of reality über-goober Specer Pratt, said she was quitting the show because she's sick of it.

I can understand why. Last night, I decided it was finally time to cave in to the peer pressure of the pop culture machine and finally watch an episode of this show. Yes, last night Kristin Cavallari popped my Hills cherry and it was excruciating. During the episode, she returns and attends a welcome back party for Spencer and Heidi Pratt (nee Montag), the amalgamation of everything insipid that is known and self-promoted as Speidi. It was less of an excuse to have a party and more of an excuse to have Kristin show up and start some shit, which she does. Because the show exists in its own beautiful snow globe of wealthy white people who only interact with each other, because Kristin wasn't on the show it's like she fell into a wormhole and was transported clear into the Alpha Centauri galaxy never to be heard from again.

Brody Jenner (who I find horribly dreamy in spite of myself) isn't tense about his ex-girlfriend Kristin being teleported back into their tiny sphere by a black hole the producers created out of money and Kristin's failed acting career, but his girlfriend Jayde (who spells her name like a drag queen) is afraid she's going to steal her man. And so is Audrina, who recently broke up with Justin Bobby—who looks like the punchline of a Joaquin Phoenix performance art piece, except he is totally missing all the irony. So they all sit around and talk about this with the sort of tepid trepidation of a year book committee that doesn't want the cover of their magnum opus to be maroon, but navy blue, because they have always dreamed about having a navy yearbook on their coffee table for the rest of their lives, but the school colors are maroon and white, so they have to deal with the color scheme even though it's ruining their lives.

Anyway, Kristin shows up at the party and starts some retarded fight that I don't understand, probably because I haven't had enough Patron shots and don't speak the spoiled patois of the Malibu faux-lite but it had something to do with Kristin talking to Justin Bobby's beard and that made Audrina upset. She yelled a lot and cowed the Year Book Committee to scurry back to the cafeteria to regroup and talk about whether or not they were going to go to some birthday party. Where the same drama is repeated, except without as much yelling.

I watch a lot of really trashy television, but I just don't get The Hills. I understand that it's fun to watch these little wind up toys sputter and twist when faced with the petty squabbles and slights of an insular social circle. I understand that the characters have been made into heroes and villains and that they're all so stupid that there is a certain pitiful superiority one feels while watching them try to navigated massaged reality before the cameras. Yes, I understand it, I just don't get it.

The City, though, I not only get, but totally love. While The Hills feels like regression, The City feels like a progression. It's a similar sort of snow globe, but one where characters actually have goals, things are actually happening, and the fights have real-world consequence.

Whitney Port, a refugee from The Hills, tries to play like she's the poor girl taking on the big, bad city, but she's got a fat pad in the West Villiage and a boss—PR maven Kelly Cutrone—who is encouraging her to work less so she can start her fashion line. Last night, Whitney's old friend Roxy shows up in New York and needs a job and a place to crash. Whitney hooks her up with both, but how does the affably daffy Roxy repay her? By throwing a giant party in her apartment that is so noisy the neighbors call the cops. This sounds just like the Jane Hotel, but it's happening on our TV screen. It's a fun arc that easily plays out easily over 30 minutes and really illustrates the trouble of starting a professional life in the big city in your early 20s—well, if you have a camera crew following you around and a big fat check from producers for just allowing your burgeoning life to be the entertainment for the masses.

The real star of the show, however, is socialite Olivia Palermo, who has been given a job as an accessories editor at Elle and faces off with the magazine's PR chief Erin Kaplan. This is real reality. Everyone knows only privileged and connected white girls get the plum jobs at fashion magazines. And when she gets there, Olivia has the sort of attitude you could expect to find in a girl with a prep school education who probably doesn't have to work for a living. And when she gets in a fight with Kaplan, it's not about who might have flirted with who in front someone's exgirlfriend at a party at the Pink Taco or who didn't say hi to such-and-such because they thought they had bad body odor. It's about a segment on the real live Today show. It's like an actual something. And if Olivia fucks it up then Kathie Lee Gifford is going to track her down and beat her like she's a Chinese sweatshop worker who won't sew fast enough. What's the worst thing that's going to happen to Kristin? Audrina isn't going to like her? Aww...

Yes, I love trashy reality television, but I want there to be real stakes along with the drama and I want it to have some sort of reflection on the world we all live in—that The City it has a reflection on the very specific Manhattan media world I live in probably makes me love it a little bit more. Earlier this week, when Lauren Conrad was asked if she would still watch The Hills she said, ""Probably not, I'll watch The City." Finally, someone from The Hills had something intelligent to say.

Jay was gone. The sun still rose, but Jay was gone. Leaves still blew around the sidewalks in little eddies of wind, but Jay was gone. The caged bird sang, the cars honked, the muggers mugged. But Jay was gone. So the lovelorn ghost of Whitney wandered the streets, glum and bovine, searching for her purple crayon, her red balloon, something. She ended up at work, at the Diane von Furstenberg Factory for Sad Girls. There she wanly sewed some clothes and packed some boxes and filed QED reports ("Right on top of that, Rose!") and wept in the toilet stalls. Skibble skibble skibble went bones and fabric, as Diane glided down the hall outside.

So yeah, Whittz was very sad and confused and felt lost and alone. Another person who is sad and confused and lost and alone, but doesn't know it, is Olivia Palermo. Olivia is the Decepticon-headed socialite of no-fame who is paid by the producers to be a bitch. The girls were at Fashion Week and there was yet another compliment about the Elle cover they'd supposedly pulled. Once again Livs took credit, even though the outfit was Whitney's idea. Oh, previous to this, Whitney had been quietly mooing about Jay and Olivia just fired laser beams out of her eyes right into Whitney's heart and said "You're being immature bringing this to work." Whitney said the same thing right back to her and pointed at Nevan, who was sucking his thumb in the corner. (Actually, that part didn't happen. Notice how he hasn't been in any of the episodes recently? Hah. Edited out for hooker-soliciting.)

So anyway, Olivia had already chastised Whitney for something as ridiculous as being "immature" and talking about the plotline of a reality show while filming the reality show, but whatever, her work is never done. So some bald dude minced over and was like "'Let's talk fashionz! Ready, Go! Elle! Who are you??" Oliva glistened under the cold, bitchy tent lights and hissed "It was meeeeeee," and an unkindness of ravens flew out of her mouth and her eyes went dark and somewhere in a tiny corner of some outer borough, the Black Plague returned.

Whitney screwed up her features and pooped just a little bit and finally said to Olivia "You know... I pulled that look." And Olivia said "Oh, you want some credit? OK, I'll give you a little credit next time I'm taking basically all the credit." Whitney didn't seem satisfied. Somewhere in the middle of this, I forget exactly where, Whitney sneaked off to call her old friend Lauren. Just in time to remind us that The Hills is coming back soon! Lauren was frowny-faced and concerned and told Whitney that she can't leave New York, even if she is sad about things. The funny/sad thing was that it seemed like they hadn't spoken once since she'd moved. True frienzsips forever!!

Back at fashion, Whitney was bluesy and sad and she strummed her guitar and drank whiskey from the bottle and Olivia was asked to go on a fancy fashion trip to London for "work" and Whitney just said "Ohhh fuck it, limey fucks. I never wanted to go anyway. I never wanted anything... Nothing at all for ol' Whitney Port. Just stand in the background, fill the scenery like some fucking potted plant. That's all I am. I'm stuck in dirt. I'm a fucking ficus."

Diane von Furstenberg skibbled up like a crab and offered her some astute words about flames and winds and desire and love or something and then she just started reciting copy from her American Express ads and the whole world of this show made sad, simpering sense.

Over in another greenhouse, hotdog-lipped Male Model was all mad about feelings so he went over to the factory that makes more models where Erin works and he barked at her bangs for being intrusive. "Don't yell at me," Erin said or something. And Male Model swore and said other things and Erin stood her ground so he slunk off into the modely shadows. Once firmly ensconced in said shadows, he found his beloved counterpart, Girl Model. She was in there rooting around for grubs and truffles. He loved her so, he realized.

So when she showed up at his restaurant and he just turned to his coworkers and said "Peace" and walked off to go have an important conversation, he told her that he loved her and wanted to sleep more with her and that baby baby baby please come home for Christmas. Girl Model smiled a strange smile and grabbed him. Suddenly they were traveling through space, hurtling at millions of miles per hour, and Male Model said "I knew! I fuckin' knew it! You're an alien." "Bleep bloop blorg, human boyfriend" Girlax Modelaxny said, finally in her native tongue. So they were whisked off to the faraway planet where everyone looks like Girl Model, and in some ways is Girl Model, so if Male Model cheats... well, it's not really cheating! A happy ending for them.

Back at fashion, Whitney was crying and shaking and smoking meth in the bathroom with Helmut Lang. Suddenly her phone started ringing. "How many times do I have to tell you / That I'm sorry for the things I've done..." the ringtone intoned. She answered it. It was Jay. He was outside. She went out. He was there. With his mouth. And his eyes. And his hair. "I love you," he said. "I see," she said. He smiled. She frowned. "I can't. I lost myself in us," she said. He frowned. She turned. She walked away. He stood there, like a fool. She tripped. She fell down. He laughed a little. She fell again while trying to get up. He laughed more. "It's these stupid heels," she said meekly. "They're why I keep fallink." She finally righted herself. She teetered off. "Goodbye!" they said, together. "Goodbye!"

Goodbye! The city said. She wandered off, so did he. And the camera hovered. Somewhere in the East Village a girl sat while her laundry rolled around and around and around in a washer. She thought about Oregon, about Danny, about her mom. She missed all of them. On the Lower East Side an old man stood waiting for the light to change. How the neighborhood had changed, he thought. How everything has changed. The walk signal came on, and he pressed on. In Gramercy a husband rolled over in bed and pulled his wife close to him and began falling in love with her all over again. In Hell's Kitchen a boy looked across the bar at another boy and they both felt that something dangerous was about to happen. In Times Square a tourist stood lost and bewildered and amazed. In Harlem a man waiting for the bus watched skeptically as a stream of new arrivals came spilling out of the subway. Kids. College kids. In the barrio there was a party for Danielle, who got the job. In the Boogie Down a dad saw his kid sleeping in the car seat next to him and things made sense again, for a moment. Over there in Astoria they opened a second bottle of wine. They yelled in Jackson Heights because he was gone and was never coming back. In Greenpoint they spoke Polish on the phone, they told jokes that couldn't be translated. In Red Hook they finished moving the last of the furniture out of a TV show loft. In Park Slope a writer said goodnight to an otherwise empty apartment. In Midwood, the wait was worth it. The pizza was delicious. In Brighton Beach they watched the waves. Spring was almost here. In Tottenville a mother walked the quiet house and thought about summer camps, beach vacations, the spit-spit-spit of the sprinkler she'd need to get out of the garage.

And there was Whitney still, wandering lost and utterly unaware through this place. This wonderful place. These blocks like bones, these buildings like skin, these trees like hair. This mystery. This love. This sad stony expanse. This bright gleaming embrace. This hope, this fear. This silly, marvelous home. This City.

The End.

(I hope forever.)

Many disastrous things happened to Bob and Carol and Whitney and Ted and Olivia and Jay and Alice last night. Whitney and Jay had a big fight and will never talk to each other again, because she spread her angel wings and returned to Mars where she will live, in quiet blue stoicism, with her true beloved, Dr. Manhattan. Jay's hair became the sail of a boat and he drifted off into the Indian Ocean, where he'll speak to dolphins and seals and strange, glowing anemones. The Wicked Olivia, meanwhile, just wouldn't pay attention at work. And when a big meeting came, in which she was once again dubiously partnered with Whitney, she bumbled and flummoxed and put her finger to her lips and went "bibbybibbybibby" while a sad little raincloud poured down on her. It was glorious.

What Went Wrong, Jay & Whitney: Jay's band, The Models With a Fake Band for a TV Show (which includes a member named Pottsy. Plus Junkpan Jake, Jalopy Sue, and Short Stack), were invited to go on tour like months ago, but he just now told Whitney. And, as Male Model put, lay-days be throwin' they panties up on stage for Jay. So how could he possibly stay faithful to Whittlz? The couple was already having big bad problems—The Affair of the Club, The Great Ex-Girlfriend Caper, Mister Magorium's Miami Emporium—and now he was just leaving, and he hadn't even told her until five days before he left. Ugh. Whitney stormed out of a restaurant when he broke the news, and off to another restaurant, where her galpals awaited, their farty glasses of Chardonnay dimly shimmering. They encouraged her to do what she needed to do, while the Samantha one quietly thanked her deities for at least letting her be in the show for the group numbers.

Whitney wanted to be empowered, like those women she saw on girls' club and Cashmere Mafia, so she spoke her mind to Jay while they rattled around her clifftop observatory. "I don't want to be with someone who sees me as a burden," she told the rumply-haired fellow. Jay began to weep and said it just wasn't the right time and that they should end things. Did Jay weep for the closing of the relationship? Did he weep for his part being written off the show? We may never know, until next week when he's apparently back. But he tossed his hair aside and walked out. "So you just walk out?" Whitney asked as she narrated what was happening. He did. And then she continued. "And now I stand for a while and look at the walls and listen to the clock on the stove tick. And then I go to the window and gaze at the blues and browns of Long Island, stretching out with houses and beaches and quiet lives moving forward. And then I feel happy and sad, in equal measure. And then I eat a cold PopTart. And then I lie in bed for the rest of the afternoon, the sun marking the day on the walls, like ghostly hands turning the pages of a book. And then I fall out of bed."

What Went Wrong, Olivia & Fashion: There was some sort of big Diane von Furstenberg event where Whitney and Olivia had to give an important speech about handbags. Whitney started out pretty well: "Webster's Dictionary defines handbags as..." while Olivia fiddled around with a digital camera and cooed at shiny things. Olivia Palermo is not a good actress, so her total "I'm not paying attention!" shtick just came off embarrassingly forced and even lamer than if she'd actually not been paying attention in the first place. Whitney brayed quietly at Olivia, hoping to get her to participate in the writing of the big speech. But Olivia ignored her further, so Whitney ambled on alone, like Heidi of Switzerland, into craggy glens and tors, searching for handbagberries.

As a motorcade of Secret Service SUVs and police escorts zoomed up to the front of the store, Whitney and Olivia knew it was time. DVF's Justice League was assembled and they all wanted to hear about the damn handbags. So, braver than she thought she'd be, Whitney launched into a stunning oration, bringing to mind the mighty Cicero or Pliny the Handbag Designer. The audience wept and clapped and some women tore at their clothing, in sheer ecstatic mania. And so, the outlook was brilliant for the Mudville two that day. The score stood Handbags 1, with but one more speech to play. But Olivia was not at all prepared. So she stuttered on and on about what editors want, incoherently. All of the foreign dignitaries looked bored and inside Whitney a tender kernel of joy began to bloom. An olive tree or a sage bush, nestled in her heart. Fairness and comeuppance did exist in this tattered world.

And so we head off into the gleaming, smoky New York sunset next week, the season's (and possibly series') final episode. Lauren returns in phone call form, and Jay comes back in actual Jay form. In the meantime, though, Whitney is left to ponder What Went Wrong on her own time. While she lazily stares at her dishware. While she stands perfectly still in the shower, for an hour or so. While the streets hum around her and suddenly she comes to and she's walked ten blocks and doesn't even remember. "Just how did I get here?" she'll wonder. "To this particular place. How did I come to be just here?"

And Olivia, poor Olivia will still mourn in her failures, we hope. And she'll be miserable and the whole town will seem gray and awful. There will be joy elsewhere. Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright. The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light. And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout. But there is no joy in Mudville- mighty Olivia has struck out.

Til next week!

Oh, and! Hah! Whitney was on Regis & Kelly this morning, and Regis insisted that the show isn't real. Terrific.

According to a dispatch today on her blog, Port's Miami sojourn was interrupted by her own ill-preparedness and indiscretion — as contradictory an influence as we've yet heard from any canny, chronically overexposed Hills refugee, but touchingly modest and just stupid enough to earn our forgiveness:

I'm sorry if they offended anyone but I got too caught up in the sunshine and the weather that I guess I wasn't as cautious as I should have been.

Everyone knows the rough and tumble of the ocean mixed with a bathing suit — not the most attractive thing ever! So sorry for the view... very embarrassing to say the least!

All right, fine. What's your excuse, Scott Caan?

• My Miami Beach Bikini Malfunction [Whitney Port]

• whitney port is smooth [WWTDD?]

Not so well, says THR. The City, Whitney Port's NYC-set spinoff of The Hills, lured 1.6 million viewers—down 38% from last week's Hills episode in a season where The Hills is already down 26% year-to-year. 9pm lead-in Bromance did the show few favors; it averaged 963,000 viewers. Sorry, Audrina: this means your planned revival of the seminal Eric Nies starrer The Grind goes back to development hell.

• MTV's 'Hills' spinoff disappoints [THR]

It's hard to tell what exactly is contrived and what's the real deal, but that doesn't stop people from trying. Today, the New York Post reveals that Whitney's day job on the show—doing in house PR for Diane Von Furstenberg—is fake, with one source saying "She doesn't really work. She is hardly ever in the office." And that comes as no surprise, given Whitney's employment history on The Hills, "stylink" at Teen Vogue, and PR at People's Revolution, when in real life, she's actually designed her line of clothing Eve & A.

In The Hills episode that sets up the premise for Whitney's spinoff, she's alerted to an opening at DVF through Kelly Cutrone, her boss at People's Revolution, and while she's in NYC on business, she goes to a bar and meets a musician who will be her love interest on her own show. Perfect coincidence or perfect casting? It all seemed too perfectly suited for tripod camera-captured moments to actually be real moments.

However, Cutrone insists to New York magazine (in a very lengthy new article about the show) that Whitney was a "very real" employee at People's Revolution, and that she played no part in MTV's machinations in inventing a new ingenue. "It wasn’t like I did all that for Whitney thinking she’d get her own show,” she says. “It’s not like I’m in secret cahoots with DVF here. I mean, I don’t even represent her.” However, New York notes that Cutrone is currently pitching her own show about her own life with the working title Kell on Earth. So is everyone just playing along with this manufactured reality in order to achieve the new Paris Hiltion-esque American dream of creating a career out of participatory self-exploitation?

As for what's real and what's fake, it looks like Whitney's relationship with Jay Lyon, the Australian musician, is indeed for real. And that's weird for a number of reasons because she's reportedly been dating similarly named E! News' Ben Lyons for a while now.

As for whether or not she's even really living in NYC, that's up in the air. She tells New York, “I’m living in either midtown or the Gramercy area—I don’t really know, to be perfectly honest. I’m in a tall building, way up high.” Who doesn't know what neighborhood they live in? And as for the "supporting cast," well, they consist of the usual suspects of NYC's climber-y circle, namely Olivia Palermo, a self-professed socialite who told producers she wanted to be on the show "because I want to be a brand.” Ew. Olivia was originally supposed to be featured on a different show about glamorous NYC twentysomethings pitched by Devorah Rose, who made a memorable appearance on the reality show The Fashionista Diaries.

To sum it up, Whitney says of The City and its cast: "It’s a really wonderful opportunity for all these kids," recognizing that her "reality" is less of a life, and more of a vehicle. However, it may be one that's stalled. The most recent Hills season finale (which aired December 22) averaged 2.6 million total viewers, down from 3.8 million for the previous season finale. Maybe viewers finally realized that in order to follow the lives of these people, Us Weekly is a much more accurate source. And how fucked up is it that we just referred to a tabloid as being more accurate than what's captured on tape?

Run for the Hills [NY Mag]
Holidays Hurt "Hills" As Finale Ratings Fall [Reuters]
HARD LABOR [NY Post]
Whitney Port talks 'The City,' and drops a major 'Hills' scoop! [EW]
Earlier: 'The Fashionista Diaries': Devora Rose Gives Mandie "Cunt Face" Erickson A Run For Her Money

Fashionista reports that Whitney Port's new job at DVF is a sham, and E! suggests that Heidi has returned to her fake work at Bolthouse. But why is MTV ignoring the show's real-life storylines when they're so much more dramatic than the listless plots it broadcasts? Let's take a look at their fantasy vs. reality, and speculate why the network has incentive to keep its blinders on:

LAUREN CONRAD
Show Storyline: According to the show, Lauren is a student at FIDM. She began the show with a long internship at Teen Vogue, then moved to a job at frightening PR firm People's Revolution.
Unshown, Real-Life Storyline: Lauren is a fashion designer who has shown at the last two LA Fashion Weeks. The show persists in insisting that she is still just a student at FIDM, despite the fact that FIDM students tell Defamer that she only sets foot on campus to film scenes for The Hills. Paparazzi, who follow Lauren relentlessly, never photograph her at the school she supposedly goes to. She has also inked a terrible deal to attempt sentences longer than three words as a young adult writer.

AUDRINA PATRIDGE
Show Storyline: Audrina worked at Quixote Studios as a blank-eyed receptionist before transferring to a job at Epic Records, where she annoys fellow coworker Chiara with boring stories about fake on/off boyfriend Justin Bobby.
Unshown, Real-Life Storyline: Audrina has leveraged brand-new breasts into an acting career, appearing in films like Into the Blue 2: The Reef and Sorority Row. If you call Epic to do business with Audrina, you will be informed, "I'm sorry, she isn't here," because she doesn't actually work there.

WHITNEY PORT
Show Storyline: Like Lauren, Whitney started her career at Teen Vogue before moving to People's Revolution. Now, she has moved to New York for spinoff show The City, where she is working for Diane Von Furstenberg.
Unshown, Real-Life Storyline: Except she, too, doesn't actually work there. Again, like Lauren, Whitney has started her own off-camera clothing line, Eve & A. Also, despite the MTV-engineered romance she will have in her upcoming show, Whitney has been dating starfucking film critic Ben Lyons, not Tara Reid-fucking rocker Jay Lyon.

HEIDI MONTAG
Show Storyline: Heidi managed to fail upward in a job with Bolthouse Productions, until she was fake-fired this season. Reports suggest, though, that she will return to her job in some capacity.
Unshown, Real-Life Storyline: Even Heidi's consummate fakery couldn't sell the idea that she ever truly worked at Bolthouse. The real Heidi is a beloved recording artist.

Perhaps MTV has found that the characters are more relatable if they hold quotidian jobs in glamorous industries, but is there any viewer who will buy Lauren's schooling when her fashion design career receives a regular berth in Us Weekly? It's time for MTV to throw off the shackles of their imagined reality and start showing us the actual nitty gritty. We don't care about Spencer and Heidi having roommate troubles. Give us Spencer tipping off paparazzi about his dinner at STK, or Heidi icing her nipples in between takes of "Higher"!

According to the Daily Telegraph, Port's new on-screen boyfriend was consorting with Tara Reid (above) less than a year ago. We're a little bit concerned that Whit-Whit is picking up the American Pie star's sloppy seconds, but In Touch reports that Port is actually canoodling off-screen with terrible new At the Movies host Ben Lyons. Who would Whitney be better suited for: the despoiler of Roger Ebert's hard-earned legacy, or the man who has touched Tara Reid's no-no place? With options like those, Whitney might be better served pulling a Lindsay.

[Photo Credit: X17]

• It's Official: Whitney Port Gets Reality Show! [Us]

Audrina, we’re told, is fuming because she found out that her on-and-off lover, Justin [Bobby], and former BFF, L.C., hooked up behind her back...Supposedly, A-doll has been running around town trying to find out any info about the incident that Mister Bobby himself has supposedly confessed to. Lauren denies it, natch.

In fact, Conrad denied it today to In Touch, claiming, "These accusations are so crazy it's difficult for me to take them seriously. While my usual taste in guys isn't always perfect, I do prefer they shower regularly." Crisis averted? Not so much — now Patridge has taken to her own, product placement-choked blog to basically accuse Conrad of mascara-running crocodile tears:

I woke up this morning and it seems like just about every gossip magazine or blog has a story about Lauren hooking up with Justin.

I'm not sure what to believe. Though Justin and I have not been exclusive for quite some time, these rumors are very confusing and hurtful.

I can't comment on whether they are true or false.

While Patridge might simply be teasing an upcoming staged storyline on The Hills, it's also possible that Conrad went off-book, bedding Audrina's ex in a shocking, Stephanie Pratt-worthy about-face. Where's Whitney's shocked face when you need it?

[Photo Credit: AP]

• 
  EXCLUSIVE: The Rumors [Audrina Patridge]

The latest installment also includes Kate Winslet, Denzel Washington, Shenae Grimes, James Cromwell, Kevin Bacon, Kyra Sedgwick, Whitney Port, Anton Yelchin, T.R. Knight and more.

WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 17

I spotted RYAN GOSLING at the Hotel Cafe last week catching a show by singer AUDRA MAE. He was with a bunch of scruffy dudes - sans Rachel McAdams! Ladies, there may still be hope for us all. He looked super thin and was rocking some stubble. Stayed and hung out after the show until some drunk chick vomited all over the bar, at which point he promptly beelined for the door.

THURSDAY, SEPT. 18

Just returned from the new Big Wang's in West Hollywood where KEVIN FEDERLINE was holding court around the pool table. The group that he was with was way too exited to be in a NoHo bar with KFed. Lots of hooting and cheering every time he made a shot.

FRIDAY, SEPT. 19

Saw super talented and delicious HGTV's Next Design Star runner-up MATT LOCKE at the Sound of Music sing-along. Insert joke about hammering hard wood here. Snicker snicker.

I'm walking up Flower street in Downtown LA around noon today walking towards The Standard when all of a sudden TIM GUNN walks out. He looks great, if not incognito. In hindsight I should have asked him to say "holla at ya boy."

Right now. A very blond KATE WINSLET in first-class on AA 180 from LAX to JFK.

SATURDAY, SEPT. 20

I spotted the USS Enterprise crew member ANTON YELCHIN in Van Nuys on Saturday night at a party at Beer City Studios. He was supporting a friend's band on harmonica and guitar. Much later in the evening, he serenaded the remaining party goers with an 8-minute, improvisational story song about his experience with a "MILF."

Also spotted at the party that night was SAM GOLZARI from American Dreamz and 21. He was playing with his band at the party and, needless to say, we were all "Omerized."

While eating excellent pizza at Tomato Pie on Melrose, SHENAE GRIMES from 90210 walked past me twice. Petite, cute and NOT ANOREXIC!!!! no matter what the tabloids or the L.A. Times claim. Five minutes later, same place, spotted JAMES CROMWELL with his wife/girlfriend and an unexpected big smile on his face.

The MTV Awards may be just a memory now, but on Saturday I actually saw JESSE CAMP, live and in person outside of Cheetah’s. He was accompanied by his wife, and looks pretty much exactly the same as when he won that contest years ago.

SUNDAY, SEPT. 21

On Griffith Park Blvd. at the intersection with Los Feliz Blvd. Was waiting for the traffic lights to change, and just glanced in the rear view to check my hotness, and who do I see pulled up to my bumper, baby? None other than delish-o-gay, T.R. KNIGHT. Was at the wheel of his champagne, metallic SUV (not too big). I knew he lived nearby and it was only a matter of time... Was using his cellphone as he drove. Bad man. Needs bottom spanked. Matter of time...

At the Aero Theater for a sneak peek of Choke - LAURA INNES (redhead doc from ER) sat just across the aisle from me — she laughed in all good spots, stayed for the Q&A with director CLARK GREGG, looked nice and normal and had no attitude (unlike some other people who flipped their lids over the no-camera rule); also JON FAVREAU was there to support Gregg — someone asked a question about Iron Man 2 and they had a laugh, Favs hung out for a bit and talked to all sorts of fans who were surprised to see him, another no-attitude celeb.

MONDAY, SEPT. 22

At BLT Steak: WHITNEY PORT and five others sat at the table next to us, which was fine, she's pretty and all and her manager or whatever wasn't too annoying. But, as we were walking out I noticed DENZEL WASHINGTON sitting in a corner. I feel like he smiled at me when I smiled at him. He is way sexy.

Spotted KEVIN BACON and KYRA SEDGWICK in the parking lot at the southwest corner of Ventura and Beverly Glen in Sherman Oaks at noon today. They were walking to their light blue Prius and looked young, cute, and fit. Seriously. At first I thought it couldn't be them, because who is that cute young blonde ponytailed girl? But sure enough, it was Kyra (no mistaking that face). At one point Kevin put his arm around her and they kissed. Genuinely looked like the real deal.