I live in maybe the most walkable neighborhood in LA, which I love. The walking part itself isn’t actually all that great, but I love to call up friends that live in dreary, unwalkable places and let them know that i’m out taking care of errands, buying bread and wine from Monsieur Marcel, picking up fresh vegetables from the farmer’s market, and doing a little bit of shopping in the boutiques on 3rd before yoga, you know, just the day-to-day stuff. I also love to mention how I haven’t driven my car in 2 weeks. My goodness, I didn’t even realize it! I’ve really been trying to do my part for the environment though.

 It’s stuff like this that provokes that mixture of envy and approbation that I crave. There is nothing like hearing someone say, “Sean, you are such a good person”, and being able to detect just the slightest bit of hatred in their voice.

jk.

 Today my friend Sophia and I went for a late lunch at The West Hollywood Gay and Lesbian Community Center, aka The Abbey. Halfway through our entry-lap Sophia grabs my arm and whispers in my ear, “Sean, Elizabeth… Elizabeth Taylor.” Major heart-stoppage. (Me, not Elizabeth Taylor).

So, after a few more totally inconspicuous pass-bys we settled down at a prime Liz-viewing table for lunch. We pretty much ate in silence, breaking it every so often with an “oh my God” and “yeah, i know” and indulging in guilt-full peeks whenever we we wern’t texting everyone we know and could come up with the slightest pretense of looking her way.

Yeah, we’re pretty cool.

She looked amazing, and, despite being confined to her chair, seemed to be having a very good time. Actually, considering that she was out cocktailing with her gays mid-afternoon, confined might not be the best word to describe this lady.

As Elizabeth and her entourage began to leave, madness broke out as the news of Her Presence rippled through the lunching gays who had failed to take a celebrity-spotting lap as Sophia and I had. For most, courtesy and self-respect were quickly gotten over by the prospect of having a blury shot of one of their major living idols on their cell-phone.

About a dozen paparazzi swarmed Elizabeth and her entourage as the wrought iron gates of the club (which had been shuttered to keep them out) swung open. The five or so feet between the entrance of the club and the backseat of the waiting Maybach coach took about 5 minutes to cover. Evading paparazzi = not so easy for the wheelchair-bound. Watch out, Itzhak Perlman. She seemed not to mind much though, she was smiling and waving and even did a pass-by for them, waving from the backseat of her car. Seventy-six and still working the photographers, damn, that lady is a pro.

Post-departure, a star-stunned hostess revealed that Liz’s liquid-lunching entourage included her personal assistant, driver, body-gaurd, and veterinarian. Beat that, Sean Combs.

- Sean Leffers

This is the place where I will ride bareback across fields, raise strong, beautiful children, and spend my evenings writing and reading by our blazing hearth.

(with David Beckham, furnished by Ralph Lauren Home, groceries delivered by yummy.com, and weekly visits to London.)

Houses with a View via Stefan Tueshaus

this is me in the early hours of january 1st 2008 on the main beach in hadd rin on koh pha ngan in the gulf of thailand. i think i’m trying to put a spell on you with my magic pail of vodka.

surprising: i never threw-up.

not surprising: tom and i got in a huge fight and ended up not even speaking to each other. this is a new year’s eve tradition for us. the year before it nearly came to blows as we sat watching the fireworks over puerto vallerta. i guess there’s something about romantic sea-side relaxation and awe-inspiring beauty that fills us with murderous rage. next year we’re planning on giving each other minor disabilities in st. barts.

hi girls, what’s up?

oh, your vaginas are acting up?

cool… except not.

lately, i’ve noticed alot of girls talking unabashedly about their vaginas. in class, over dinner, in da club: vagina, vagina, vagina.

this is inappropriate. stop it, please.

     But wait, you say, I saw famous, respectable women talking about their vaginas in the vagina monologues and oprah talks about her vajayjay!

true. but there is a difference. for clarity’s sake, i will list people who you may, and may not, talk to about your vagina:

people that you may talk to about your vagina:

your mom

your sisters

your husband or fiancee (and probably only if you have cancer)

dr. ruth

close girlfriends or gay friends who you know won’t be weirded out

oprah: i know she’s probably not your close friend but emotionally she probably might as well be

note: none of these count if you are within earshot of someone enjoying a meal.

people you may never talk to about your vagina:

anyone sitting across a dining table from you

men

television presenters whose program’s audience isn’t at least 80% women

me (half a dozen girls exempted)

i am sorry. i must be so victorian. i just think that it is an odd thing to talk about. i know women should be empowered by their “sex”…

it just seems a little less special when you talk about it to everyone.

 plus it’s gross.

sarah silverman channeling georgia o’keefe via the huffington post

ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! i didn’t realize that an ebay auction in which i was bidding on a grab-bag of old etiquette books was ending tonight! and it sold for the minimum bid incresase above mine!

well, whoever got them better enjoy them.

yesterday i woke up with razor-blade throat- so bad that i threw away 95% of my favorite lunch – it hurt that bad to swallow

so i just ate my first meal in almost 40 hours- oatmeal w/ blueberries. i would have really liked bacon though.

a few years ago i picked up the habit of reading all of the books of one particular great author in one fell swoop, or really one 2-3 month long swoop. i like it, because it makes me feel like an expert. also, the books are usually pretty good. the author of the moment is hermann hesse, i just finished his Das Glassperlenspiel or Glass Bead Game. I love laying in bed or on the couch after finishing a book that i really loved and holding onto the way it made me feel for as long as i am able.

wow, that went quick.

so, i went home to ft. wayne, indiana over thanksgiving. it was nice. mostly, i saw friends and went up tour family’s lake house for thanksgiving.

 overall, i was happy to see that “the fort” is becoming more and more cosmopolitain. i went to see the darjeeling limited with abi downtown followed by four different bars (two of which were brand new) as well as several other friends. ft. wayne doesn’t suck as much as i have always imagined it to… but you can’t help comparing it to other “better” places…