Smart kid. The one real benefit of the White House Correspondents Dinner every year (and other celeb events) is you get some mileage out of it with some family and non-political friends. I heard you talked to Meg Ryan? Cool. You met Jane Fonda? Wow, I hate her. Folks who have no idea what you do are at least interested when these kinds of events come up. Anyway, this year I basically wasted the whole night because I never talked to Constantine, or so the exit polls revealed. (So much for 2005.) He’s who the peaple want, I learned.

On Simon and Carrie, I thought he was just letting her down easy. He knew she was going to go tonight.