Read Online Only In Your Dreams by Cecily von Ziegesar - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cecily von Ziegesar
Ads: Link
about was The Sorrows of Young Werther, a creepy book about a moody, depressive guy who kills himself in the end because his girlfriend marries someone else.
“All right, I’m officially confused. What the hell are you talking about?” she asked. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked into his light brown eyes.
“I’m talking about the meaning of life,” he replied simply.
Or was he talking about a certain perfectly perky round-butted blonde?
Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.
hey people!
I’ve discovered something very important about myself: I’mtotally bi. It’s not what you’re thinking—I’m just torn betweenwhere I want to spend my summer and I’ve decided I reallywant to have it both ways. Thank God for Teterboro Airport. Aquick drive to the runway and I’m on the island in less than anhour. That gives me a chance to ogle the surfer boys and sayyes to every party I’m invited to here at home.
There’s something so exclusive about parties in the city duringthe summer. So intimate, with no unwanted guests. Well,almost. Not that we don’t like to have our picture taken; we’djust like to make sure our beach hair doesn’t have any actualsand in it before the flash goes off. Yes, I’m talking about thepaparazzi. Obviously they have to work all summer, and obviously they’re bored because they’ve been hounding the fewcelebs in town—me included—like every night was an MTVMusic Awards after-party at Lindsay’s loft.
But summer and the beach go hand in hand, and I could nevercompletely forsake the shore, but that heartthrob actor T has donejust that, abandoning his lavish spread on the North Shore (yes,the one you saw on that episode of Cribs) to spend a steaming-hot summer in sticky New York City. Now that’s dedication.
across the pond
I know we started out as an English colony, but we won the war(no hard feelings!) and therefore we do things a bit differently
on this side of the pond. I like the whole royalty thing— especially a certain heir to the throne and his party-monster redheaded younger brother—but there’s a lot about the English that I just don’t understand. For example, I hear that a certain young, foxy, blue-eyed American girl we all know and love has gotten herself mixed up with a titled gentleman who seems to have eyes for his, um, cousin? Apparently, in some grand old English families it’s perfectly acceptable to ask your cousin to move in for the summer, to hold her hand during intimate dinners at London’s finest restaurants, to slip away together to the thatch-roofed country house for a weekend foxhunt. How’s that for culture shock?
your e-mail
Q:
Dear GG,
My mom insisted that I take an internship at a glossy magazine this summer. She says it’ll help prepare me for the real world, but I feel like I’m the only one spendingmy summer cooped up inside the fashion closet, packing next season’s Marc Jacobs shoes into boxes and keeping track of the Me&Ro jewelry. It’s like working in retail,and besides, I have the rest of my life to work, don’t I?Shouldn’t I be chilling at the beach with my babeliciousboyfriend or something?
—In the Closet
A:
Dear In the Closet,
How do you think I feel? I’m still here, albeit with the A/Ccranked and a chilled bottle of Dom next to the computer,hard at work, serving all your gossip needs. But seriously:help yourself to something Guccilicious from the sunglassdrawer. You deserve it! (And no one will notice if you throwsomething in for your boyfriend, too.)
—GG
Q:
Dear GG,
Does that guy N have a long-lost brother? I think I saw him at the Oyster Shack on the Island, but it couldn’t have been the same guy; this guy was dressed like a construction worker and hanging out with some skanky-looking but undeniably hot townie chick. Any idea what’s going on?
—Double Take
A:
Dear Double Take,
There’s
“All right, I’m officially confused. What the hell are you talking about?” she asked. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked into his light brown eyes.
“I’m talking about the meaning of life,” he replied simply.
Or was he talking about a certain perfectly perky round-butted blonde?
Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me.
hey people!
I’ve discovered something very important about myself: I’mtotally bi. It’s not what you’re thinking—I’m just torn betweenwhere I want to spend my summer and I’ve decided I reallywant to have it both ways. Thank God for Teterboro Airport. Aquick drive to the runway and I’m on the island in less than anhour. That gives me a chance to ogle the surfer boys and sayyes to every party I’m invited to here at home.
There’s something so exclusive about parties in the city duringthe summer. So intimate, with no unwanted guests. Well,almost. Not that we don’t like to have our picture taken; we’djust like to make sure our beach hair doesn’t have any actualsand in it before the flash goes off. Yes, I’m talking about thepaparazzi. Obviously they have to work all summer, and obviously they’re bored because they’ve been hounding the fewcelebs in town—me included—like every night was an MTVMusic Awards after-party at Lindsay’s loft.
But summer and the beach go hand in hand, and I could nevercompletely forsake the shore, but that heartthrob actor T has donejust that, abandoning his lavish spread on the North Shore (yes,the one you saw on that episode of Cribs) to spend a steaming-hot summer in sticky New York City. Now that’s dedication.
across the pond
I know we started out as an English colony, but we won the war(no hard feelings!) and therefore we do things a bit differently
on this side of the pond. I like the whole royalty thing— especially a certain heir to the throne and his party-monster redheaded younger brother—but there’s a lot about the English that I just don’t understand. For example, I hear that a certain young, foxy, blue-eyed American girl we all know and love has gotten herself mixed up with a titled gentleman who seems to have eyes for his, um, cousin? Apparently, in some grand old English families it’s perfectly acceptable to ask your cousin to move in for the summer, to hold her hand during intimate dinners at London’s finest restaurants, to slip away together to the thatch-roofed country house for a weekend foxhunt. How’s that for culture shock?
your e-mail
Q:
Dear GG,
My mom insisted that I take an internship at a glossy magazine this summer. She says it’ll help prepare me for the real world, but I feel like I’m the only one spendingmy summer cooped up inside the fashion closet, packing next season’s Marc Jacobs shoes into boxes and keeping track of the Me&Ro jewelry. It’s like working in retail,and besides, I have the rest of my life to work, don’t I?Shouldn’t I be chilling at the beach with my babeliciousboyfriend or something?
—In the Closet
A:
Dear In the Closet,
How do you think I feel? I’m still here, albeit with the A/Ccranked and a chilled bottle of Dom next to the computer,hard at work, serving all your gossip needs. But seriously:help yourself to something Guccilicious from the sunglassdrawer. You deserve it! (And no one will notice if you throwsomething in for your boyfriend, too.)
—GG
Q:
Dear GG,
Does that guy N have a long-lost brother? I think I saw him at the Oyster Shack on the Island, but it couldn’t have been the same guy; this guy was dressed like a construction worker and hanging out with some skanky-looking but undeniably hot townie chick. Any idea what’s going on?
—Double Take
A:
Dear Double Take,
There’s
Similar Books
