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I　Will　Always　Love　You

Cecily　Von　Ziegesar

Love　is　like　war：　easy　to　begin　but　very　hard　to　stop。

—H。　L。　Mencken

hey　people！

ho；　ho；　ho！

’Tis　the　season　to　be　jolly。　Fa　la　la　la　la；　la　la　la　la。　Don　we　now　our　gay　apparel…　which　just　so　happens　to　have　been　made　for　us　by　the　little　elves　at　Givenchy　or　YSL　or　Oscar　de　la　Renta。　Who　are　we；　you　ask？　The　residents　of　Manhattan’s　Golden　Mile；　of　course—that　glorious　stretch　of　doorman　buildings　above　Fifty…ninth　Street　and　below　Eighty…sixth。　It’s　Christmastime；　time　to　deck　our　sprawling　Upper　East　Side　penthouses　with　silver　and　gold　baubles；　twinkly　lights；　velvet　bows；　and　chocolates　imported　from　belle　Paris。　Here　the　holidays　are　always　a　little　more　sparkly；　a　little　brighter；　a　little　better。　It’s　so；　so　good　to　be　back。

While　I’m　not　about　to　tell　you　where　I’ve　been　for　the　past　few　months；　I　will　tell　you　that　there　is　life　after　high　school。　Yes；　it　finally　happened：　We　went　to　college。　During　the　past　semester　we　encountered　people　who　haven’t　seen　us　naked　（yet）；　and　who　don’t　know　our　SAT　scores；　who　don’t　remember　that　time　we　wet　our　pants　in　kindergarten；　or　when　we　got　our　ears　pierced。　We’ve　learned　a　few　new　things；　made　a　few　new　friends；　and　have　even　maybe　met　the　loves　our　lives。　We’ve　changed—hopefully　for　the　better。　And　we’re　just　as　fabulous　as　always。

Take　B；　for　instance。　She’s　spending　a　perfect　holiday　with　her　perfect　Yale　boyfriend　and　his　perfect　family　at　their　idyllic　Vermont　pound。　That　girl　always　had　her　eye　on　the　prize。　Speaking　of　prizes；　what’s　S　up　to　these　days？　No　longer　hounded　by　overeager；　fashion…conscious　Constance　Billard　girls；　she’s　now　trailed　by　the　paparazzi　and　a　posse　of　wannabe　movie　starlets　while　she　cools　her　Louboutins；　waiting　for　her　nomination　for　the　SAG　Awards。　No　matter　where　she　is　or　what　she　does；　S　will　always　be　one　to　watch。

Then　there　are　those　who’ve　tried　their　darnedest　to　change：　N　has　been　sailing　around　the　world　for　the　last　four　months。　But　as　we　learned　from　Kant　in　our　freshman　seminars；　no　man　is　an　island。　He’ll　be　back—sooner　rather　than　later；　we　hope。　Then　there’s　D；　scratching　out　existential　poetry　in　his　black　Moleskine　notebook　in　the　Pacific　Northwest。　It　may　look　like　a　total　lifestyle　change；　but　he　still　insists　on　Folgers　crystals　instead　of　French　press　in　the　coffee　capital　of　the　U。S。　He　also　spends　every　waking　moment　Skyping　his　shaven…headed；　ultra…independent　filmmaker　girlfriend；　V；　who’s　at　NYU　and　seems　to　almost　have…　hair。　And　friends？！　And　finally　there’s　C；　last　seen　with　a　pack　of　flannel…wearing；　log…lifting；　very　rugged　boys　out　in　Nevada　or　Montana　or　someplace　with　no　cities　and　lots　of　cattle。　Is　he　into　a　new　type；　or　has　he　gone　through　yet　another　reinvention？　That　man　puts　Madonna　to　shame。

Mistletoe　and　New　Year’s　Eve　are　all　about　kissing；　and　something　tells　me　there’s　going　to　be　lots　and　lots　of　kissing　this　break。　Lucky　for　you；　I’ll　be　here　to　report　everything　worth　reporting　after　the　holiday　lights　are　unplugged　and　the　pretty　velvet　ribbons　have　been　untied。　Let　the　reunion　begin！

your　e…mail

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

I’m　visiting　my　great　aunt　in　New　York　City　for　the　holidays；　and　I　heard　that　Serena　van　der　Woodsen　lives　here　and　you　know　everything　about　her。　Are　you　her？　Oh　my　God；　if　you’re　her；　can　you　please　send　me　an　autograph？　Or　maybe　hang　out？

—IheartSvW

a：　Dear　Iheart；

While　I　prefer　to　live　my　life　outside　the　spotlight；　according　to　my　sources；　your　heroine’s　out　almost　every　night。　You　should　be　able　to　find　her　if　you　know　where　to　look。

—GG

q：　Dear　Gossip　Girl；

My　college　dining　hall　only　serves；　like；　deep…fried　cheese　balls　and　I　may　have　gained　some　weight。　Should　I　celebrate　NYE　with　my　high　school　friends；　or　pretend　I　have　the　flu？

—HittingtheBuffet

a：　Dear　HtheB；

While　I’m　not　a　dietician　or　a　therapist；　I　can　definitely　say　you’re　not　alone。　My　advice：　How　you　look　is　all　about　how　you　pull　it　off。　Go　out；　wear　your　little　black　dress；　and　show　off　those　curves。　No　one　will　even　notice　those　tater　tot　pounds。

—GG

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