As Mr Greg twirled me round Madison Square Park, he whispered huskily in my frozen ears,"Glad to hear that you were not cold m'lady. Thank you for saving me from 10 degree frigid weather- it was your warm heart that burned with me throughout the night that carried me through."

Gosh, I thought to myself, maybe I just found my Valentine, his cha cha is pretty nifty, I think this man just swept me off my feet. Mmmmmmm........

"Come here Princess. It is fun. Step right up, just follow me. Back two three, side, side, back two three,side and spin." Before I knew it, the dashing Greg Miller of Dance Parade, was teaching me the cha cha and it didn't feel cold anymore in the slightest. So I danced and danced and danced till the morning rays hit the park.

But still no "J" did I find.

Yes, LEGALIZE DANCING seemed to be the theme of the night.

"Guys,"I said, "what you are doing is very honorable indeed, but my toes are about to turn blue, my feet are like blocks of ice, can't we dance inside instead? Sorry to be such a softie, but it is minus 5 degrees out here and with the wind chill it feels like minus 15. I can hardly last ten minutes, let alone all night."

Sure enough, as I looked around the square, I saw dozens of dancing protestors, like this beautiful Russian Princess, who was spinning around and around Madison Square Park.

"What are you doing standing frozen looking at me for, girl,"she yelled, "Dance, Dance,Dance."

On Friday night as soon as I left work, I got straight to work on my real job these days, which is finding the true man whose name starts w a "J", the valentine of the Lady of the Box. Lots of options so far, but none hit the right note.

I shot out the office and headed north towards Madison Square Park, looking for some inspiration, a clue, a sign, anything.

All of a sudden on Broadway and 23rd Street on the corner of the park, I stumbled upon a small crowd of jolly but shivering dancers, who were doing the cha cha and swing dancing in the street, despite the freezing temperatures.

One of the dancers looked a little sad as he had a disco ball chained to his foot and was tied to his deck chair instead of dancing with all friends. It was late in the day for any sun so what was he doing, and why so glum?

"Sir"I asked, "what is your name and does it begin with the letter "J" by any chance? Why the disco ball footwear?"

"I am known as Mercury John, but I am not the one you seek, although both your lady and I share much in common, neither of us are free, she stuck inside her VERY SEXY box and I unable to dance because it is illegal for more than three people to dance in an unlicensed NewYork City venue, and licenses are almost always unattainable. I want to be free to dance so I joined Metropolis in Motion and tonight my fellow protestors will dance 24 hours straight, whilst I remain imprisoned to my deck chair, till somebody listens and changes this ridiculous law. Sob, sob, I just wanna dance the cha cha."

"Wow, this is terribly sad, I can see why you are upset. Is there anything the Scottish Princess can do to help? Bye the way, your nose is running, do you want to sniffle in one of my freshly laudered royal handkerchiefs?"

(I was secretly quite happy to find another honorable task as this "J" searching is wearing rather thin now. )

"YES, YES," he cried, "DANCE, DANCE, DANCE all night long. Show this city, dancing is not a crime."

"I am truly out of my league. What was I thinking? A simple country guy like me could never win the affections of such an exotic lady in a box.

But if your heart is broken by one of those devilishly handsome city boys, come to me and be happy for the rest of your life.

I practice yoga every day because I know only the most flexible will be invited to enter into your enchanting box."

Jeff, your humble admirer.


All the way from Nevada, a simple note , humble but sweet,was sent. It said it all. Jeff has revealed himself. He is even in serious daily training to prepare himself, should he have the fortune to be invited to enter the box home of the Verizon Lady, making a bit of extra effort, going that extra mile. Impressive. How come no one ever sent me such a note? So far, Jeff seems to be the favorite, but with three days to go, anything could happen. Is he the one? Or just another hopeful suitor?

I

"Stop right now, Imposters, Loosers, Kinky Devils, Jellybeans, Jokers and Misfits, which all of you are, I mean what a mutley bunch, would you just look at yourselves. The Divine Lady of the Box wouldn't touch any of you mothballs even if she was stranded in the desert for twenty years. You numbskulls probably could not even find your way to Canal Street.

I am Joseph, the Heavenly Angel of Light and the Lady of the Box only has eyes for me, her saint and true love. I swear with every cell in my being that I will love her through thick and thin. I also make a mean roasted red pepper and goat cheese omlette that no lady can resist. Look in my eyes and see how the truth of the love in my soul emanates like sweet rays of pure, white light."

Enough, enough, I can't stand it any more. I never heard such drivel. Your SP has had her fill of these guys. They talk a good game but between you and me, they just don't cut it. I mean would you take any of these chaps back to your box ? ? ?

"Guys, guys, listen up. Step back. The man our Lady of the Box longs for is me, Jamie, her kinky devil. We have experienced the highs and lows, we have been to hell and back and we rode in the flames of deep passion. You good-for-nothings are wasting your time. Give up now while you still can. Take it from me, hell is no holiday camp."

Oh help, I'm getting really confused now. All these chaps seem so sweet but which one is telling the truth? Shall we place a vote? If you have a strong inkling please let me know ASAP.

"Jeremiah the Joker you mean. Jeff the Jellybean, you two loosers are nothing but imposters.

I am Jeremy the Jubilant and if you read the neon sign on my hat, it says HERE, which means stop right here , you have found your man.

Don't move, Lady of the Box, I am coming to rescue you from those two twats who could never make you happy. I am famous for my hand massages, I will pamper and adore you for ever, my darling, delightful Valentine."

Wow, Jeremy sure lives up to his name. Things are hotting up all of a sudden, but something in my gut tells me none of these lads are my Lady's true love. What do you think SP friends?

"Hey! My name is Jeremiah the Just, also beginning with a "J".

I saw her first. All night I dream of holding that beautiful porcelain hand. The Lady of the Box belongs to me. Move over,Jeff, stand down and may the best man win.

PS the last man who messed with me had to learn how to write with two fingers. He now hops around town."

Wow, what is going on all these "J's" making a claim for my Lady of the Box. Things are looking up. Only 5 more days to find the true "J" but at least I have some offers. This should cheer up My Lady on Canal Street.

Could it be true? My name is Jeff (J)and I stand alone in the Nevada desert playing my trumpet, belting out songs to attract a beautiful Scottish Princess. Perhaps my affection for the S.P. is just the cosmic path to my real true love, the lady in the box?

Desperate Measures had to be taken. I hunted down my dear old friend, Kesheva from Israel, who resides at Sivananda Ashram in Paradise Island in the Bahamas.

"Kesheva,"I pleaded," please sound your horn and bugle and make the mating cry heard far and wide, over land, sea and dale, from midtown to downtown, from the East side to the West side." And so he did and the clear, piercing sound reached the ears of all men in the city, (even those whose name does not start with a "J".)

"Calling all "J"s . We know you are out there. The Lady of the Box is more beautiful than ever, her pale statuesque arm the epitome of grace. Come out, come out, wherever you are. ( I am fast loosing patience.) "

Tonight I tried searching in midtown in Times

Square, at the super sexy book launch party























for Palagia's new book all about her wild, sensual, daring,

wonderful and now that the book is out, legendry, NewYork soirees.

There were many men there but only one had that mischievous glint in his eye. He tried to fool me by wearing a blue bunny suit but I spotted him in the crowd right away.

"Mr Blue Ears, the Lady of the Box has requested that you join her in her VERY SEXY black box for a delicious candlelit dinner for two on February 14th, the night reserved for true love. What sayeth you, my friend?"

"Alas, my true love resides not in a black box but in a rabbit warren out in the wilds of central park. My fluffy bob tailed sweetheart has already booked me for a delicious carrot and cashew stew on February 14th. I am not the one you seek tonight. But do not give up, "J" is out there, just keep looking, you can not , simply must not let your lady down. "

Pressure is on. Only 5 more days left to find "J".

"J" if you are out there, reveal yourself at once, much is at stake.

I started searching New York City high and low, to find the Lady of the Box's Valentine.

Last night I went to Johnathan's hot and happening 5 Rhythm Dance Class at Cosmos in Chelsea, where 100 NewYorkers dance the cold away and release anything and everything or perhaps nothing but the labors of a long day in the Big Apple.

I found this young dark, sultry hero, caped and dramatic. He looked to me like a man very much in need of love.

Could he be the one?

"Are you he , who my sweet Lady of the Box dreams of each night," I enquired.


"I am already betrothed to another fair damsel, I am afraid. I am not the one you seek, fair Princess."

And so , I journeyed on.

For a while, we said nothing so happy to be reunited again. We simply held hands, there were few other options, and I said to her, "My Miss Verizon Pumpkin Lady, it is wonderful to run into you again. You look marvellous, and this arm of yours , well it is very sexy and the black box, mysterious, intriguing, alluring, such an original way to put yourself together, I love it."

Bending over so no one could hear, I asked her,
"But are you sure you are not a bit squashed, cramming your head inside and all, is it dark in there, how do you read at night before you go to sleep? Does it get lonely in the box? How do you know if it is day or night?"

She did not reply to my questions, all of a suddenI heard, a deep mournful cry coming from inside the box.

"FIND HIM, FIND MY VALENTINE. Tell him I am here, waiting for him and I am sexier than ever, both inside and outside the box."

Of course I agreed to do my best. She described the certain Verizon customer who stole her heart, always dressed in black, an Asian warrior of the night with a wry sense of humor and cute smile. "His Name," she offered, "His Name...". She stopped and her hand went limp for a moment. "Oh Lady of the Box, What is Wrong?" I asked, quite startled by her sudden weakness of constitituion.

"I grow weak by my empty heart," I heard her whisper. "I am nothing without the man who's name begins with J". And that was all the words she could muster. I took her hand and held it firm.

"Dear Lady of the Box, I will make it my utmost of priorities to search out your hopeful beloved--I WILL FIND YOUR VALENTINE! And you shall be happy with him and live without vanity--your worries of having to diet will be no more and you will eat again. This black box will no longer be needed!!

She let go of my hand weakly, her thumb and index finger quivered together to signal the "ok" sign and I hurried off--Only 10 more days to Valentines Day.

You will never guess who I ran into underneath the Canal Street subway entrance? Yes, I mean literally underneath. Only her arm and a box containing what was left of her body was left.

Some of you who who have followed this blog from the start will know who I mean. Yes, you got it the poor Verizon shop window pumpkin lady from the Halloween October 28th post. Please refer back if you did not see the post.

Then she had a head and sweet orange stripy stockings and shorts and a smile. Then she was in love with one of her customers. I never heard from her again and I feared the worst, she had been turned into soup or a slice of pumpkin cheesecake. I was walking onto the train the other night and I heard her calling my name. I looked down to see this sad little black box, like a box you might see after a plane crash. Well she had gone on the Calorie Restriction diet so as to increase her sex drive and attract a certain male customer with whom she was most enamoured. In those days she had slimmed down so much she only had a shelf to support her pumpkin head and no body. It is ridiculous the lengths we women go to to look sexy.

Three months later she slimmed down drastically again, now she was just a mere arm, yes it is a very elegant, sensual and slim arm, I agree, and I guess the rest of her is in this box , which she clearly labelled VERY SEXY. Actually it looks quite inviting to look inside.

Stay warm and have fun by partying in the sauna and listening to the hotel DJ at the QT pool in Times Square. Note smart experts bring their own towels to avoid being cut short.

Midnight, January 30th, this happy couple, no doubt on their first date, are caught in action, sipping a martini in between doing their laps, escaping New York's first snowfall by taking a dip in the QT Hotel pool in Times Square

You too can snuggle in the arms of a hot date, while cooling off in the freezing pool. You heard it first here.

For those New Yorkers who did not manage to blag a holiday from some very drunken Burns Night revellers, do not despair, help is on it's way. Head over to the Pool Party in Times Square.

Check out the pool party night at the QT hotel in Times Square, 45th Street, free to all New Yorkers looking to do something different and impress your pals anytime before 1 am every Tuesday night.

Beware the pool is only a tad warmer than freezing.

Bonus, you are allowed to drink cocktails in the pool, see full bar at the back.

Warning, they run out of towels.

Here I am smiling and happy, trying to decide where I should go with all the airmiles I collected in the course of the night at the Bank of Scotland Burns Supper party.

It seems a fair swap, a holiday for two in the Bahamas in exchange for me saving your carreer and reputation for the rest of your life by not posting my After Photos, ah, what it is to be a yogi, always thinking of others.

At the Bank of Scotland Burns Supper, they sat me in a table with not one, not two, not three but SIX hunky, eligible New York hotshot bachelors, most considerate of them.

This is another Before picture. In order not to show you SP Followers the After pictures and wreck the poor laddies promising carreers, I made them each promise to give up some of their airmiles in order to send me far away so as to take my mind off posting incriminating photos of them, so I am off on holiday soon to escape the below freezing nasty weather here, hurrah.

Here I am again at the Bank Of Scotland Burns Supper at the super posh Palace Hotel on Madison Avenue, wearing my celebratory gold ballgown, we Scots wear gold on festive occassions as some of you know, from my burning Man pics.

This dashing young laddie, Douglas, was my gallant host for the night, see this excellent Before shot of him, all bright eyed and fresh. I am only helping him stand a wee bit. It was only the first toast. I very kindly let myself be used as a crutch as you can see.

He bribed me with a years shopping at Wholefoods not to show you the after photo so this is all you get, but the good news is my fridge is full for the first time in months.

SP Friends, is it my fault, look, he looked quite good at the start of the night, quite dashing, noble and elegant even, a sheepish boyish smile, cutesy, in his green velvet jacket, matching kilt, tartan tie, even his tie pin was green. The chappie went along way to impress me.

Shame that the haggis dish got the better of him, ah well, the SP is a woefu woman, just like Tam's wife Kate, and all I can say to all the frustrated Lassies out there whose date did not escort you home, you are in good company and better luck next year.

Yes, here he is, my delightful date, the "skellum" scallywag, waste of space, not even half way through the Burns Supper, a drunkard that would put even Tam O'Shanter to shame.

I am not sure if it was the whiskey, the raw sheeps stomach and dried blood gourmet scottish haggis they served, my reading of Tam O Shanter or what.

Suffice to say I went home alone that night and your SP was not impressed.

January 25th is a very important night in Scotland and around the world. It is Burns Night, a time when Scots all over read Burns Poetry, massacre a poor haggis in order to eat it with neeps and tatties and of course drink a lot of whiskey, like this handsome chap here - my date. This is him, 5 minutes into the first speech.

I attended two Burns Suppers, one hosted by Bank ofScotland for all its many posh clients and the other by the world famous Scottish New Yorker lawyer, Allen Rooney, at Clancy's bar on the upper east side. I managed to talk to the host into letting me read Burn's most famous poem,Tam O Shanter, it is only 20 minutes long so I promised to cut a bit out as New York audiences have a five minute attention span, but well all of it is so good, I just kept most of it in.
Naturally the audience loved it and many asked me to perform the whole thing again, maybe to pick up bits they missed.

Here is a quick snippet -

"Ah Tam, AhTam, thou'll get thy fairin
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin
In vain thy Kate awaits thy coming
Kate soon will be a woefu' woman."

In translation, Kate's man Tam is a "blethering,blistering, drunken bellum", ie a chatterbox numbskull drunkard and will probably not make it home but will be roasted in hell like a herring, a popular Scottish appetizer, instead, a deserved reward for a louse like him. A bit like my date for the night, I mean would you look at him.