Why Bother Writing for the Paper when Your Column Gets Bumped?

While sorting through a myriad of useless personal belonging during what will hopefully be one of the last moves I encounter for a long while, I happened across a crumpled restaurant menu on which I had scrawled a list, nearly 10 years ago, titled "Kate's exciting new life plan."

The list entailed writing numerous and enormously successful screenplays, living a fabulous bi-coastal lifestyle, traveling the world with a tall, dark and mysterious lover named Adolpho, and "reincarnating as a hot 28 year old" around the age of 43, at which point I would change my name, marry my best friend from college, and live on a mountain, with groceries delivered by helicopter.

Needless to say, since then, my plans have changed. I have established myself as "crazy Kate" who lives in Montauk, and there is no way or one I'd rather be. Adolpho is out of the picture.

I'm thinking of the list today because my best friend from college has been calling round the clock with the oh-so-familiar lectures about how I need a reality check. (Nag, nag.) I have a voicemail that hasn't been checked and I know exactly what it is going to say.

I am never going to get ahead living in a place where the price of real estate is so unrealistic, he says. People are not supposed to "enjoy" their jobs, he says, they are supposed to loathe them for 40 years and look forward to their government pensions. Further, I cannot wait tables for extra cash "forever," and if I do, I will "not be marriage material."

While I tend to agree with him on a few of these points, I staunchly refute his solution: that I relocate to a strange and more affordable city to satisfy his version of a white-picket-fence lifestyle.

First and foremost, I am through with moving. I have moved four times within the past year alone and I have absolutely had it. Every time I move I wind up opening an ex-boyfriend box or sitting on the floor reading out-of-print Sassy magazines for far too long, my knees can't take it anymore, and I loathe the sight of cardboard and packing tape.

Secondly, I enjoy living where I live. Despite the fact that it's raining, we didn't have much of a spring, the economy is seasonal, the class divide is resounding and my chances of becoming a rock star are slim to none, I staunchly refuse to give up on my peculiar Peter Pan lifestyle. I have become something of a staunch character since moving here, and it suits me just fine.

That being said, I staunchly refuse to live in a place where my dog must be on a leash at all times and can only play in a "park" about half the size of my backyard. My dog needs lots of space. My dog needs to swim in the ocean. My dog needs to come into work with me and curl up under my desk.

I also refuse to live in a place where I don't know everybody. I have worked long and hard in weaving the tapestry of my social life here, and I've no intentions of uprooting myself and establishing a new one. With a few clear exceptions, I like everyone. I like the congenial atmosphere. I like the Cheers bars, and I like the places where I work.

I like the role-playing that is the restaurant business. After one of the longest winters of my life, I am delighted to say that I am happily waiting tables, at a charming restaurant in Sagaponack. For the past few weeks I have been wafting around the dining room, chatting with all sorts of interesting people, and doubling my income, which is fine by me. So when you're fed up with the chic... come visit Kate. I can promise you the steaks are worth it.

It makes me feel incredibly useful to deliver food. I am providing a much-needed service. I do not care that the economy is not where it was in years past and that the only people who are making $1,000 a night are working somewhere else. My job is cozy, and I get by. There is a piano. By the end of the season, I may try to remember how to play. I don't want for much, and appreciate what I have. This is not Flint, Mich., after all.

So I'm sorry to say, my dears, my friends in cheaper cities and family who don't understand, that I am firmly planted where I am, without a single regret. I am more optimistic than I've ever been, about "the season." May we all avoid traffic, make money, and have plenty of time for mischief.

Since moving to the new place I've been slacking on a few things, like window treatments and such - but slowly, I am piecing my world together. Tomorrow, the cable guy is finally coming by to set up my DVR box and Internet. If it ever stops raining, I may plant some flowers. If it doesn't, I'll just have to go outside and dance.

This is just a gentle reminder that this summer is going to be good - how could it not be? Never forget, that there are few things in life more glorious than dancing and laughing in a warm summer rain.