Dear Internet,
Wow, I can’t believe how fast this blog has grown! Seems like just yesterday I was rambling to an audience of, well, no one, and now 1,500 of you (daily!!) enjoy my fashion commentaries. It’s sort of ridiculous, but awesome. I’m honored and humbled, and I thank you.
But enough gushing. Check out these beautiful dresses by Mitza Mitali. She’s an unknown, but not for long. In her new collection you can find the perfect outfit for every summer occasion, from that awkward work bbq, to your jerk ex-boyfriend’s wedding. And trust me, if you’re wearing Mitza, he won’t even notice his bride. ;]
Signed with love & sass!
Capital S
# # #
Several weeks after the fiasco in Spain, Theresa’s fury is still polarizing the lab, creating strain and causing friends to repel from one another like magnets. Everyone feels like they have to pick sides, but no one wants to. It’s not exactly the most fun environment to start a relationship, but MJ and Felix are trying.
On their first official date, Felix takes her to dinner before a movie. When they arrive at one of their usual lunch spots, MJ gives him a look, but Felix is oblivious to her disappointment. She didn’t expect roses and violins, but she did expect a step up from bar stools and pub food.
For their second date, MJ cooks her mother’s best dish: linguine with scallops in lemon and herbs. Felix smiles weakly. “Um, I don’t eat seafood.” They order pizza instead.
They plan their third date together. Dinner goes well — finally — and is followed by a visit to the theatre. That’s when things fall apart.
MJ finds the experimental comedy “Babies Go BOiNG!” gross and offensive; Felix thinks it’s funny. MJ insists they leave early; Felix complains about wasting the ticket money. Irritated, they part ways at the dorms.
After a good night’s sleep, they wake up and make up — but with the understanding that transitioning from friends to lovers may take more work than they anticipated.
“I guess we don’t know each other as well as we thought,” MJ says.
“That’s okay,” Felix reassures her. “Getting to know each other is what this is all about.”
# # #
“Passive aggressive is bad enough,” Eli says. “But you’re being straight-up passive.”
Claudia stuffs a notepad into her bag and grabs her keys. “What’s there to be aggressive about? Ramona won a couple contests. She’s my friend, I’m happy for her.”
Eli rolls his eyes. “She didn’t share those opportunities with you. In fact, she purposely kept them a secret. That’s not very friendly.”
“Well neither is yelling at her about it.”
“All I’m saying is, I think meeting with her every week is a waste of your time now. You’re supposed to be helping each other, but clearly she’s only helping herself.”
Halfway out the door, Claudia pauses and sighs. “Look, I’ve never ‘broken up’ with a friend before. It’s just not something I do. I’m sure Ramona and I can work through this.”
“Maybe,” Eli says with a shrug. “But Ramona doesn’t even know she’s supposed to be working through something.”
His words ring in her ears as she drives to the library to meet with her “frenemy.” The truth is, since learning of Ramona’s betrayal, Claudia has been holding back, even when she doesn’t want to. The seal of trust has been broken, but neither she nor Ramona has admitted it. Until they do, their friendship will remain broken, even if — or perhaps because — the break is unspoken.
Suddenly Claudia is overcome by emotions. Frustration with her lack of success in writing. Annoyance that, as usual, Eli is right. And most of all, sorrow over the loss of her friend. When tears begin to cloud her vision, Claudia pulls over to the side of the road, and gives in to the flood.
# # #
After eating Ramen noodles three nights in a row, Sophie calls Reggie. She treated him to lunch at least once a week when they worked together at Arden Advertising; she figures it’s time in call in a favor. An hour later, he shows up with sushi.
“Unagi rolls? I love you!” Sophie squeals.
“Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but you know how work snowballs.”
She nods, her mouth already full of white rice and eel.
“So…” Reggie’s eyes roam her messy apartment in surprise. Disemboweled newspapers cover the living room, oozing their Classified sections. Wrinkled interview clothes hang from the kitchen cabinets and lie draped over the backs of chairs. And a large collection of junk sits in a wicker basket labeled TRY TO EBAY. “So things are going well?”
Sophie glares. “The economy sucks, okay?”
Reggie breaks apart the wooden takeout chopsticks and reaches for a California roll. “Yeah, about that… I talked to Arden before I left tonight. She, um, she’d be willing to hire you back.” Before Sophie can protest, Reggie shoves the roll into her mouth. “Just promise me you’ll think about it?”
“Unh hmnuh,” she says around the sushi. Though she would rather cut off her right arm than return to the stressful, meaningless environment of Arden — not to mention the embarrassment she’d feel at crawling back — Sophie appreciates that Reggie is looking out for her.
“Good. Anyway, my big news is that I was promoted to lead the Forward Fashions account. But their marketing director feels that the campaign is getting stale, and he wants to reach out a hipper audience.”
Sophie rolls her eyes. “Let me guess: his teenage kids finally clued him in to MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter?”
“Exactly. So Arden wants me to hook up with this hot new blogger to promote Forward Fashions’ stuff. I can’t remember her name, but she’s shaking up the fashion scene. Every designer she mentions gains significant attention.” He frowns. “Uppercase C? All Caps F? Something like that.”
Sophie pales. “Capital S?”
“Yeah, that’s it!” Then Reggie notices her expression. “Heard of her?”
Sophie swallows, then smiles. “Yeah, I guess you could say that…”
