“I’m Georgia, and I’ve got some rules,” quipped Jane Fonda at the premiere of Georgia Rule on Tuesday night. Sure, the joke was lame, but Ms. Fonda was looking like a stone cold fox, so I’ll forgive her. Standing next to her, Gloria Steinem, another foxy femme-it-forward advocate, stepped up to the mic to speak about the Women’s Media Center. She, Fonda and writer/activist Robin Morgan founded the Center in 2004, and tonight was the organization’s first glitzy Hollywood-style event.

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Donald Trump has always oddly fascinated me. The big-time swagger, the gilded living quarters, the hair. So when my friend invited me to the launch party for Trump vodka, I said sure. Wait - did I say Trump vodka? Please, forgive me. It’s actually called Trump Super Premium Vodka. In fact, Trump himself was quoted last year as saying, “[This summer,] I fully expect the most called-for cocktail in America to be the ‘T&T,’ or the Trump and tonic.” Well, not sure if that happened - and, ironically, the Donald doesn’t even drink - but cheers to thinking big.

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Ewan McGregor stepped out of his limousine onto the red carpet for his new movie, Alex Rider: Stormbreaker. I caught my breath as our eyes locked. He walked up to me and said hello, that he would only be in New York a bit, and asked if I would like to grab a drink or three with him…Actually, that was more how it happened in my imagination. Sadly, the truth is Ewan walked right past me without even a glance, but a girl’s got a right to pretend. He was too short for me anyway.

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Here it is. The grand finale of the New York Television Festival. The premiere of Fox’s hostage negotiator show Standoff will be screened in a few minutes, and I’m downstairs within striking distance of Ron Livingston when I begin to envision my own hostage scenario. Do I go all out (or balls out, as it were) and make a grab for Livingston’s goods? Would he talk me down, or would a mini-army of SWAT teamers and PR flacks jump me? I’ll leave the possibilities open and let you all draw up your own crisis management plans.

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Lola’s continued coverage of New York Television Festival:

A creamy yogurt bath any time you need it. A manservant always prepared to offer his head for a swiftly kicked soccer ball. An entire room full of colorful, pimptastic hats. According to ABC’s upcoming fall comedy The Knights of Prosperity, these pleasures and more could all be yours if you were Mick Jagger. On the other hand, if you, like the loveable losers who form the Knights, live by more modest means - driving a yellow cab, plumbing Queens toilets or getting axed from your first internship - wouldn’t you be willing to risk it all to rob a rock god?

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My little black dress flapping in the breeze and turquoise mother-of-pearl earrings jangling seductively, I stood there on the red carpet and gave Delroy Lindo a chance to soak up my infectious personality. “We’ll keep this light,” I said, thinking,”Surely, he’s tired of talking about his new show.” He responded with an unimpressed “We’ll see how far that goes.”

It seems that Delroy and gonzo journalism don’t mix. When I attended the New York Television Festival opening gala premiere of NBC’s Kidnapped, thinking I would rock the zany questions Ryan Pinkston-on-Punk’d-style and give the stars a refreshing break from the serious reportage of Us Weekly and Access Hollywood, boy, was I wrong.

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