Last week a sliced and sewn bear arrived in the MediaPost office. Addressed to Amy Corr, the bear seemed benign until I heard Amy shriek "What the hell! Why is my bear wet!?" She skittered over to the garbage and could be seen by the entire office desperately unstuffing her bear to find the source of the wetness - puffs of simulated cotton haloing her head. Turns out her bear wasn't one of those "Teddy Pees A Lot" toys, her bamboo plant had tried to escape its vase and in process made bear boy look incontinent. In fact, the bear …

Apotheke. Immediately, because it's described as an unmarked door in Chinatown, I think, "Great, I'm going to get kicked out for having my camera," with flashbacks to the Thrillist Yuletide Party at The Eldridge. Fleeting worries of more pickpocketing and BlackBerry pilfering skirted through the chasms of my mind, which I had to push away in favor of more positive thinking. This is no way to arrive at a party - with a brain bucket full of sewage and BPAs. Want to know how it went? Am I sitting here on Wednesday morning filing more fraud and forgery affidavits and …

Last night was like a scene from The Peach Pit After Dark, but without Dylan, Brandon, and Brenda. I was wrapped in a portfolio of expensive shoes and hair and dropped into a '90s timewarp, where MTV played music videos, Kelly Taylor made it OK to get a nose job, and Heather Locklear's Amanda (the OG of Melrose Place) thumbed her nose at respectable corporate attire. I bring you the premiere party for "The Broadroom," written by Ms. Candace Bushnell, produced by Meredith Corporation in association with Co.Op TV, and starring Jennie Garth, Jennifer Esposito, Talia Balsam, Broadway actress Mary …

If Advertising Week had a smell, what would it be? If this were the era of "Mad Men," maybe it would smell like gimlets and cigarettes. During disco days, it might smell like gold lamé and roller-skate wheels. In the '80s the olfactory experience would be sprayed with Aquanet and cocaine nosebleeds. For the life of me I can't recall stand out pop culture vices, maybe crimped hair and double stacked socks? And now, here we are, still wrapped in the '00 slice of 2000 and we may have too many scents to choose from.

Last night, Uptown brought it midtown and soon, I'm going to have to take someone downtown. I have no idea why, but when I'm headed for Saks Fifth Avenue, I always stand on 6th and 50th, stomp one heeled foot down with exasperation and with a befuddled air wonder "Where the hell is this place?" Fifth Avenue, Kelly. Fifth. Every time. Anyway, I entered the building, welcomed the full assault of decadent fragrances and headed to the Café at SFA with Rebecca Reyes, IBM web editor extraordinaire. The doors opened to the shoe floor and jazz grabbed our earlobes and …

You're sitting in a lounge in White Plains, NY with an old friend because White Plains is the perfect halfway point. There's a little karaoke, there's a couple weirdos, there are a lot of laughs. You reach into your bag to grab your wallet. It's not there. The rest of the night is one hit after another as one officer from the White Plains PD scolds you for leaving your valuables out for the taking with the nonsensical analogy of "I wouldn't just put my gun on the bar and walk away!!" As you snap back "my wallet won't kill …

It's OK, you can admit it, we've all done it. Done what? Snarked under our breath about the after-work crowd at 230 Fifth. I've heard you say it, too. Starts with a D, rhymes with shooshbag? If you're a social networker anywhere near the Flatiron building, you've been part of that after-work crowd at some point, too. And it's OK. I'm here for you, because, not so secretly, I sort of enjoy it. You've got the black-dressed cocktailers, the "Magnum-P.I."-sunglassed bartenders, the bling, the bubbles... and last night this was augmented with a slender young fellow in a red Speedo-like …

Big ol jet airliner/Dont carry me too far away! Substitute "jet airliner" for "greyhound bus" and you've got my life in a nutshell this summer. Constant go-go-go from NYC to other locations around the Eastern seaboard. And if I'm not leaving, people are coming. This past weekend I was back in Columbia, Md., or as people from Columbia say -- "Baltimore" -- for a fun-smooshed time. This week, which I've declared Happy Week based on my horrible attitude last week, I'm back in action and hoping to fill you up with good vibes and some good party action.

I like sneak peeks. They make me feel special. Not as special as a Hollywood-style movie premiere (an unrealized dream I share with my little sister), but you know, I'll take what I can get. Last night I was starving after my banana-a-day forced diet, so I was hoping I would not only be taking a sneak peek at Blazetrak, a site "getting you closer" to the big time, but also food.

When I was a youngster, I was IN LOVE with Christopher Cross. I imagined, as I listened to "Sailing" and "Ride Like The Wind" that I would be immeasurably rich by now, wearing flowing white linen pants and sundresses, draped in gold, driving through some sort of weaving tropical highway with the wind teasing my Crystal Gayle-length hair into a knot of bliss.... I did find myself sailing last night with what may or may not have been a cluster of singles with their own ideas of the future.