The gossipeuse and the leather strop you saw dining at a not-so-good Mexican restaurant in Murray Hill the other day were actually famous people. Yes you spotted them, and they were grand doyenne Liz Smith and a Real Housewife of New York, the ruined Kelly Killoren Bensimon.

Hilarity ensues over at the New York Times' City Room blog, where you can learn all about a slapfest going on at the Junior League, the women's charity-cum-country-club. It seems the Junyeah League is all a-twitter over some missing cash and dreary financials, which the Times wrote about yesterday. Their big priority now? Making sure the paper doesn't get a whole bunch of pageviews off it. Catty! Muffy too! The board is issuing email reprimands like this one: "Please DO NOT under any circumstances e-mail the article to your committee volunteers, friends, etc. The Times tracks the "most popular" hits and we don't need any more exposure than we already have." Ah, yes, the city Junior League, driver of national traffic, bold supporter of boardroom disclosure. This probably means we'll never get in, doesn't it. Damn.

Cosmopolitan editor Kate White threw a book party of sorts at Michael's today? The hostesses, who—for the record—didn't look too abused, asked why I was there. "For that book thing whatever," I said. They pointed me to the bar. The first thing that caught my eye was Elizabeth Hasselbeck. She was still wearing the harlequin dress that merely hours earlier had weathered the heat of battle with Rosie O'Donnell. Her face was still unnaturally tan. And one long deep wrinkle, as if she had traded in all the little ones for this one, perfectly bisected her forehead.