I put my bouncy skin on today, anticipating being jumped all over. Last night I headed to the former Playboy Penthouse for a cocktail party on the terrace to "celebrate" the sexy summer issue of Russia! Magazine. Anticipated: showcase of Russian-centric items, Russian beverages, some pass-around Russian fare, and a guide through all things glamorous in Russia. Received: lackluster welcome, empty trays of what may have been food, and nary a Russia! Magazine in sight. Ugh, I feel like the party cynic.

Last night was one of those beautiful city nights, when Manhattan can do no wrong. The thick but gentle wind tickled my hoop earrings as I walked along Canal toward Canal Room, where I was about to watch Brianna Taylor from "The Real World," who said "but I don't like hard work of any kind," followed by Blake Lewis from ""American Idol," famous for creative use of mouth noises and being rumored as one of Lindsay Lohan's chew toys. You're right; I have GOT to find a way to spin this for this column. It'll come to me...

Every time I hear "OMMA," I want to write a song to the tune of "Lola." I do. O-M M-A OOOMMa. You hear it, right? Maybe next OMMA event we should have a talent show competition where people perform their original compositions of an OMMA theme song. I'm going to get started on that right now. After I tell you about OMMA Social!

I have walked by the Gramercy Park Hotel a million times. Back when I used to work at the IBM building on Madison Square Park, I'd alter my walk home to mix up the monotony. Now, when I'm heading home from Broadway, I'll poke by that way if it's really nice out. Every time I pass by I think, "who the heck gets in there?" because it looks like a secret hideaway where only the chicest of the chic are allowed through the doors. I guess I'm one of those people they'll let in.

I like meat. Meat in little burger form, meat in ball shapes, meat in a loaf, meat pie, meat on a stick. If someone came out with meat ice cream, I might even try that. Which is why when Colin W. Gillis, Internet Equity Research Analyst, Canaccord Adams, invited me to a special Internet dinner I said "Gimme the meat!" and ran over after OMMA Publish.

I'll admit it; I'm kind of a whiner. Sometimes I'll even stomp my foot. I semi-whined when I arrived at OMMA Publish because I only saw fat-free muffins, and no starchy, carby bagels. What the... Health food at a day long conference?! I mean, sure, we all complain about how work travel and work events expand the ole mid-deck, but we don't want someone to help us. Well, I ate my words come lunchtime because those sandwiches were deeeelicious. And nutritious. Who knew?

I have to be honest, I wasn't able to hit OMMA Video until yesterday afternoon. I mean, heck, I had to get all those scandalous Vegas photos together, which I still have more of, so definitely check back on the Flickr set. Needless to say, when I walked into the ballroom at the Marriott Marquis in Times Square, the scene was much more sedate, to say the least.

When I received the invitation to Thrillist's JetVegas launch party of debauchery, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to give Vegas another chance. Low/no cost can convince even the most stubborn hater to revisit a less than fond first impression location. Upon arrival to JFK, I flip flopped into Gate 6 to the sound of Frank Sinatra's doppelganger and two sparkly showgirls. Ok, this was going to be good.

Last summer I was walking around SoHo and tripped into a cute little store. Inside were all kinds of hints and tips on how to be more eco-conscious and all that other organic fun stuff. I saw these cute little buttons that said "GOOD" on them. Being the eternal pervert, I saw this as dirty, so I giggled like a 15-year-old boy and snatched a couple up and went home. Last Saturday early evening, almost a year later, I discovered what it was all about. I know. Sometimes it takes a while.

In a world where the I Can Haz Cheezburger guy can walk the same carpet as David Byrne, spikey-haired shy musical genius (have you played the building yet?), I'm glad I had my trusty flip camera to record some snippets to pinch myself with. Yes, last night was real, yes I asked Seth Meyers if it would make him uncomfortable if I told him I wanted to make sweet sweet love to him, and yes, having a chat with anyone from the Onion is both a fun yet paranoia-inducing experience. And this, my friends, is the Webbys.