Email in my hotmail this morning from The Feet. Some stupid question about Moscow fashion week. I don�t know anything about Moscow fashion week other than the fact that it exists. For around ten seconds I was flattered The Feet would think I was the kind of gal with such inside fashion info.

For around ten seconds.

Then I was just pissed that he would send me such an innocuous query. As if to say, �I don�t think of you at all. Ever. Except when stupid inane fashion questions come up. Then you�re my gal.�

I mean doesn�t his wife work at Conde Nasty for chrissakes?

I hate his guts.

So there.

It�s Monday and I ate pasta last night for dinner. I am bloated and cranky.

That�s my excuse and I�m sticking to it.

La de da. La de da.

3:47 p.m. - 2003-08-11

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