Forgive me, Jenny Craig, I have sinned.
I was scheduled to go to three events last night, but whipped up a quickie dinner at home beforehand because we all know the main rule of “disco dinners”: Eat first.
But it turned out all the events had plentiful food.
An NJGLA “Headlines and Headliners” gala was filled with LGBT media notables plus BLT sandwiches piled on high. (Not really. I just thought the sound of that made sense with all the other acronyms. But they did have tons of food. Trust me. Belch.)
Then, Paper invited me to an incredible British Airways/VisitBritain event at 78-Mercer, which was transformed into a wonderland of British tourism delights, from nail products to tea to tons of oinky goodies, all served up with charm and a twinkle.
“Would you like some cutlery with that?” asked a nice British man as I dove on a cheesecake. No, but I could probably have used a fork.
And then came the Cyndi Lauper/DIFFA thing I told you about, which involved filet mignon and a dessert buffet, all slurped down for charity.
And then I rolled home, opened up one of my gift bags, and found chocolate covered pretzels.
My colon now looks like the Jersey turnpike, but I doubt traffic will be that heavy in there.