All I Want Is Everything (19 page)

s is the movida  

Serena concluded that the only way to repair the horrific
was having a Christmas-New Year truly sensational, and the best way to ensure this was to
give his own party. She loved planning parties and was extremely good at it, but it was
Wednesday and only had three and a half days to organize everything. Blair would not help. Was
isolated in a room with the iBook, a package of cigarettes and an espresso machine and
would not leave until we finish the script I was writing to the proposal to Yale. Serena was
always delegating tasks better than doing everything yourself, then who should call unless
the two girls who so desperately wanted to be your new best friends?

- Hello? Kati? It's Serena.

- Hi!

- Look, Isabel is there?

- Arrais.

Of course it was.

- Legal. So I was wondering if it would import you to come
help me plan my New-Year's Eve party. I kind of decided at the last minute and really want
to be great, but I am with little time.

The two girls were speechless. Then began to screech
together.

- Oh my God! Vai to be the best party of all! Do not worry,
we will get there quickly.

And here.

Serena came to the door using a pair of red velvet and a
Juicy Couture camisetinha with a picture of a snowman.

- Oh, my God, you're so tanned exultou Isabel, kissing her
on the face.

- You emagreceu? - Kati said, kissing her too.

As Serena needed weight.

The eternal gracious host, Serena took them to the living
room of the family's huge apartment in Fifth Avenue overlooking the Metropolitan
Museum of Art her parents were to spend the holidays and Ridgefield brother was in Boston,
with friends of college, then Serena had an apartment just for her.

Had already placed several blank sheets of paper in the huge
coffee table with glass top and writing them headers: Local. Drink / Food. Music / Sound.
Theme / Decoration / Lighting.

Invitations. List of Guests. She became the sheets of paper
for Kati and Isabel.

See how Serena knew delegate?

- You were the organizing committee of the party in Boca
Kiss in October, is not it?

They are based.

- Great. Can call the same buffet and decorator that same
party?

- Of course! - Isabel bent for the stock market looking for
PalmPilot.

- And we need to find a legal DJ - Serena instructed.

Kati seemed confused.

- It is not the 45 that will play?

Serena blinked. I had no idea where Flow would spend the New
Year, but was not sure that he wanted to stay in pursuing his own party.

- No, actually he is busy writing the new disc - she lied. -
A DJ is better anyway. More variety.

- I thought we could use this list of guests of the ball
Black-and-White - Serena continued,

taking another stack of paper in the coffee table. - Of
course I can add who you want.

- Flow is at least?

Serena faltered. If that was not going to say, Kati and
Isabel probably start to spread rumors again, about the engagement of Serena and Flow was
over and blah blah blah. And it could be an elegant gesture send an invitation to the house
of Flow in Malibu, especially after it left the parrot in reception of the resort in St.
Barts and returned to New York on the morning of Christmas, without seeing him again. It was
as if he really was the party anyway.

- He promised me he would - she said, pointing to the name
of Flow on the list.

Without thinking about doing that, Serena went to thumb
through the list until the U.S. to make sure that the name of Aaron Rose was there. Aaron just
back from St. Barts in the 30th,

but she hoped it was the party. He looked so sad the last
time she saw him she wanted to do something to cheer him.

- Should I take care of the invitations? - Kati asked, every
executive. Nokia's mobile phone took the bag Hervé Chapelier red. - Can I call the paper
right now.

- Great - Serena said. - And, Isabel, why not call the
realtor for parties? Tell him I want a big loft in the center with a good view of fireworks.
Preferably with a deck.

While passing the list of invitees to Kati, a name at the
top of the list drew attention to Serena: Nathaniel Archibald. Where the hell andava Nate,
indeed, "she is asked. He had to go to her party. The new-year would not be the same without
him.

Nate was busy opening the package of memories of Jenny,
which was not a simple task, since it was wrapped in a layer of five centimeters of magazines
for teenagers and Scotch tape.

The package had arrived yesterday afternoon, but somehow,
between being snowboarding down the mountain with Cadillac John and Ryan and smoking hashish
in the bathtub of a girl at a party in Bar Harbor, he simply had forgotten to open.

The only clean underwear that remained in the drawer of Nate
was that Jenny had bought for him at Barneys, he now was sitting on the floor using the
samba-song of sailfish, ripping the pages of a magazine covering box of Nike shoes, exactly
of how Jenny had imagined.

He raised the lid of the box and looked inside, laughing
even while it was the finger in the tinder-haired Jenny. Mandar a wick of hair almost seemed
that Blair would do something, but it probably fill with perfume first, then put a box of
Tiffany's silver-coated red velvet and with a monogram of the initials of Nate or something.
Nate got the program of The Break-nuts and leaves. Instead of remembering five days
before, when he led Jenny to see the ballet and they sat in the front row of the balcony at the
New York State Theater of Lincoln Center hold hands while the army of nutcracker toy soldiers
in the fighting the mice against the evil under the huge Christmas tree, he thought the last
time they took Blair to see the same ballet.

Blair had colic. So in the meantime, Nate managed an Advil
and a Perrier for her with the bartender and then they took to smoking cigarettes behind
the counter. They were kissing and it went the whole second act there, smoking, kissing and
watching people passing by the source and the empty Lincoln Center. Blair was wearing a
coat of camel hair with the collar of mink in which Nate liked to pull his face, breathing the
aroma of the combination of animal skin, the scent of cigarette smoke and Blair.

From the top of the dresser Shaker board room of Nate in
Mount Desert, the phone rang. The phone had nine messages, all with the number of Jenny, and
Nate had not been concerned with the answer either. But this time the number it flashes on
the screen was different.

Nate laughed. He was always happy to hear Serena.

It is, as all the guys on the planet.

- And then? What 's up?

- Natie? - The voice sounded calm in your ears. - I was
wondering when am I gonna see you again. Or will you, so kind, to stay in Maine until
graduation?

Nate is bent and picked up the package of blueberry
Pop-Tarts box of memories of Jenny.

Opened with the teeth and took one of the Pop-Tarts,
devouring it before throwing the bag back to the box.

- I think I will stay longer here - he wanted to avoid
dealing with Jennifer until the last minute. Or forever, if possible.

- But I will give a party-New Year's - Serena said a voice
in a bad mood. - Kati and Isabel are here now, helping me to plan. The theme will be great
and we have the best DJ, and a huge deck so that everyone can see the fireworks. You are a
Mané is not coming, and I promise I will regret fully.

Nate laughed. The party seemed legal. Then he thought of
something.

- Hey, Where to Blair? You were not in St. Barts?

- Back sooner - Serena sighed. - Blair on this side and a
nerd working on the proposal to Yale.

- Ah - Nate got the copy of Romeo and Juliet and spent the
thumb at the edge of the pages full of ears. Then he looked for cover, a classic image of a
boy and a girl intertwined in a hug. - But it will at the party, right?

- Of course, silly - Serena exclaimed. - It is not as well
nerd.

- OK - Nate agreed, still holding the book. - I will.

Serena hung up. Facing her, sitting on the couch of red and
white chintz, Kati and Isabel were busy to phone, scheduling the buffet and beverage
ordering more than ever need. Serena smiled to herself. It was half as interesting Nate said only
that the party was going after it said that Blair would be there. He had a feeling that
would be a very interesting new-year.

the tormented artists suddenly have their moment  

Still using the same coffee-stained white shirt to wear for
almost a week, Dan had almost filled an entire block with morbid poems about love poetry
was a hoax invented by Hallmark to sell cards of Valentine's Day and give people the false
impression that their life had meaning. Now he was working on a poem entitled “Car
Full of Stones,” about a guy who fills your car from stones and leads to a river because the car
reminds of the ex-girlfriend who liked to go out there and listen to the static car instead
of music.

Jenny knocked on the door.

- Have a letter for you, Mr. total recluse.

Dan dropped the pen and opened the door. Jenny was wearing a
robe pink and had a mustache of white cream. She spent an envelope.

- What is it in your face? - Asked him, getting the letter.

- I depilando - she said, turning up and following the
corridor to the bathroom.

Do not know what that means, Dan thought, closing the door.
Jenny was spending too much time stuck at home reading of fashion magazines, but combined
well with her for being a bitch.

Dan turned the thin white envelope and examined the address
of the sender. It was the New Yorker, probably offering a signature, when his father was a
lifetime subscriber. He opened and deployed a sheet of paper that was inside.

Dear Mr. Humphrey,

Thank you for sending your poem, “Whores”, to The
New Yorker. Our congratulations! I am happy to inform you that post your poem in our edition of
the Valentine's Day. Fill, if your interest, the Author's information sheet attached to this so
we can include aglumas information about you on our colleagues. A check for $ 800
will be sent.

Happy New-Year!

Jani Price Publisher  

That was a joke, "said Dan He releu up the letter twice
before letting it fall into the bed,

the whole body trembling with fear. The New Yorker rarely
published poems by unknown authors, and Jani Price was famous for sending letters of
rejection unpleasant, such as.

“Good try!” Or “Sorry, Charlie.” Dan
reviewed the letter. It looked authentic. Then read the letter again, his hands still shaking madly with the idea
that a stranger - and even more so famous in the literary world as Jani Price - had read his
poem.

The more I thought about it, became more evident that the
only person who could have sent the poem to the magazine was Vanessa. As if it had not
already caused enough damage. What the hell - not, what the fuck she was thinking?

Dan threw the letter on the bed and took a dirty shirt.
First would take a hot bath and wear clothes files.

At last!

Then went straight to Brooklyn to make a hole in Vanessa. As
she dared violate his work sending it to someone without having to work to ask him
first? Who thought that was it,

anyway? Her fairy godmother croppy and boots to fight?

How about the Bad Good Witch of the East?

Ruby finally had recovered a Sony digital camera and Vanessa
was sitting on the computer,

downloading images of pendants of ice and placing them in
his new movie, shortly before the passage of pigeons empoleirados on a garbage truck. She had
already deleted from the film Nate and Jenny in the snow and decided to leave everything
behind and focus on new movie.

Besides the pigeons empoleirados in the trash, a bald-head
doll and went caolha a torn bag of garbage. It was sensational.

A box of instant message appeared on the upper right corner
of the monitor and Vanessa clicked it, hoping it was Dan By then he should already know
the New Yorker and maybe I was sending a message to thank because they decided to publish
and everything was forgiven. But the address in the message was not to Dan  

KM10001: ptm is vanessa Abrams, filmmaker?

Gatacareca: perhaps KM10001: I am looking for the person who filmed those kids
in the park. work with the camera is unbelievable.

Gatacareca: really? Who says?

KM10001: Ken Mogul. Seahorse did, maybe you've seen. then
I'm talking to the right person?

Gatacareca: is.

KM10001: wow. I wanted to work with you too. I'm finishing a
film now that I have to Cannes.

you care?

Gatacareca: I'm still in secondary. but I care.

KM10001: legal. I can see you somewhere? type today, later?
I'm in NY.

Gatacareca: I shoot in Central Park at night 10 hours,
there. I find there?

KM10001: great. adorei see your work. I see you there.

Gatacareca: bye.

Vanessa returned to edit his film knowing it was a great
possibility that the person who had talked with her in fact be one of the friends of Nate
mauricinhos who were now opening a hole in the ice of the lake in Central Park to shoot in the
water freezing and Vanessa afogá it because of the link that was circulating.

Or perhaps it was actually Ken Mogul, the alternative film,
one of his heroes. Laughed loud.

She was a goofy and for both e-mail. But who knows?
Everything was possible.

Gossipgirl.net ___________________________________________________________________ themes / previous / next / do a question / answer  

Warning: all the real names of places, people and events
were curtailed to protect the innocent. I mean, I do.

Hi, guys!

HOW TO HAVE A PARTY FOR NEW YEAR-the busiest WORLD  

Two tips:

1) Get stuck in me. I know where is the movida.

2) Kiss people. The midnight today is the time throughout
the year in which you have an open invitation to kiss completely unknown people without having
to give any explanation. So go on!

Your email  

Q: Dear Gossip Girl,

Okay, so I'm not a big fofoqueira but I tell you in that I
am still here in St. Barts. You know that guy who was with B-M? Well, B, after leaving, he
stayed with one that teaches French and they went water skiing muitotempo together.

- Bean  

A: Dude bean,

Thanks for the information. I am sorry for you being stuck
there instead of being here.

Moreover, you should gossip more often. Let your skin bright.

- GG  

Flagra  

The walking with his boxer by Park Avenue. I imagine that he
has returned from St. Barts,

even with the friend M getting there. Flow catching a plane
in LA for the Kennedy Airport in New York early this morning. Oh, yeah? B is venturing out to
buy a house for hair spray extragrande Fréderic Fekkai at Zitomer Pharmacy in Madison.
It seems that it is preparing an extravagant hairstyle for the party of tonight. I am dying
to see. I am dying to see you all!

The only party that is worth  

If you have not received one of these, then you may very
well leave the city.

There is a Mané.

Come celebrate the new Year-me!

Theme: A Night in Paradise Very Mad  

Where? In the Ice Castle, West 19th Street  

When? Saturday night, DAA, from 9 to ...

Take what? You and your friends who fit in the elevator.

See you there!

- Serena  

Our life is better than the FILMS  

If our life was a movie for teenagers bum, convidaríamos all
officials of the admission of all the universities to which the candidates to leave us and
cuidaríamos so much fun that they would let us decide. But our life is better than the
movies and we need not reach that far to get into college. Is not it?

I can not wait to see who's kissing whom at midnight!

For you who love me,

gossip girl  

j away from home  

Jenny had scrapes, epilator, pliers, esfoliado and hydrate
the entire body, fucked the nails, dry the hair and makeup applied a subtle in shades of
bronze and other according to a map that had kept the magazine Allure. Then put the thong
and the same pair of black velvet that used in the special day in the park, with a tight black
top with V-neck and wire gold that seemed brega the hanger but it was great.