I Have a Plan.

I'm moving to New York. Okay. Maybe not tomorrow. Or on December 1. Which is when I have to move out of my apartment by. But as soon as I can. After moving to my mom's. Finishing my script. Saving some money. Writing a few essays. Saving some money. Writing a pilot. And getting in shape. Financially and physically. This traveling thing has taken a toll on the old bod. Things that used to have definition? Not so well defined. Me? Not liking it so much. I nearly got suicidal at Barney's. Well, not really. But the whole trying on a pair of straight leg jeans thing? Maybe not so smart in a not so fit state. That's all I'm saying. The coup of New York is that it's less about all that "what you look like stuff." Which is quite excellent. I know this because last night I got asked for my number by not one, but two guys. Okay, so none of them have called yet. But the actual asking is nice. And it never happens in LA. So there.

Kate and I had a blast last night. She's quite the knowledgable one about the New York scene. First, we had nosh at this place in the picture. And then drinks at this other place which has no picture. That's where we bonded with Ed the actor-- who was pretty hot. He's the one who got my number. Yes, an actor. I seem to gravitate towards creative types. What can you do? He had dimples. And seemed amused by me. I'm a sucker for men who are amused by me. Together we manipulated the song selection. Which was fun. It was an 80s rock flashback. And then some brothers came in and taught me how to do that Beyonce thing. Which was quite the feat. After a few martinis.

Today, I got work done. Came up with my plan. And went to Chelsea. Which is where I stayed last time. Five years ago last time. The area is completely different. Before it was boy's town. Now it's too fabulous for words. There are all these incredible stores and restaurants and things. That's where we were last night. Today I Scooped. I got a dress. I haven't worn a dress in forever. It makes me feel girly. Which I like. Which is probably a by-product of getting male attention. Which I also like. I forget what it's like sometimes. It can liven a girl up. Just feeling like someone finds you attractive. And you're not dead yet.

Kate took a bunch of fun pix of us last night but she has to do this whole download thing and we have a party to go to. It's Kristine's birthday! So we're going to some far too hip place. Which doesn't feel the same here as in LA. It always feels more interesting, less shallow. And less about the size-- of income, jeans, breasts and homes and more about the whole brain and personality thing. That's where I fit in. Well, that's where I feel comfortable. And like to think I fit in. Did I mention that here? There are men. Lots of men. When a posse passed us at the bar last night? They waved. I waved back.