This weekend, I have been a social butterfly, fluttering to and fro, all over Manhattan, on iridescent wings. A majestic Monarch butterfly with orange and black spots. Yesterday, lunch with Margaret and Sam and Joe, later a movie (Jurassic Park III) at Joe's apartment. Today, brunch with James and Doug; drinks with Alison, my brother Mike, and some of Mike's miscellaneous entourage; and a late-night trip to Barnes & Noble and McDonald's with Joe. I also spoke on the phone with my boyfriend, both of my major ex-boyfriends, my best friend Viki's father (twice), and several answering machines.

While I enjoyed every moment, the moment that took the cake was 11:15pm in the McDonald's on Broadway and 81st. Under the unflattering lighting, Joe and I ate chocolate-chip cookies and performed NET testing on each other.

I will explain this.

NET testing is something we learned from our common acupuncturist, Roberta Mittman. The premise is that the body responds physiologically to mental stress, actually becoming physically weaker in the presence of untrue statements. To put it very simply, one person sticks his arm straight out and declares something about himself, and if it is true, the other person will be unable to push his arm down. If it is a false statement, the arm will fall instantly under slight pressure. I do not know how else to explain it, but if you do it right, it works every time.

Tonight, Joe and I tested such statements as, "I want to kill those screaming children," and "I am not OK with the way that man has shaved his chest hair." We then collapsed, laughing harder than I have laughed in weeks. Just what I needed.

In other news, I think someone is tapping my phone line, and I suspect either the U.S. government or Alison, who looked radiant this evening over her gazpacho soup. Alas, if only it did not have cucumbers, I could have shared in its delights.