Heather Anne

Yesterday StrikeSad commented and said:

"There is no more "Gossip Girl" because the "Gossip Girl" writers are on strike. As are the writers of all of your favorite shows. Because the CW and all the other networks and studios refuse to treat them fairly. As a writer yourself I know you must respect and support those who happen to work in television...If you want "Gossip Girl" and other scripted shows back, it'd be great if you read up on the strike and got your readers to do what they can to help the writers get a fair deal so they can get back to work! There is more info at unitedhollywood.blogspot.com. P.S. Your blog is great."

“There is no more Gossip Girl” is a sinister little phrase, and the sort of thing that comes out of a villain’s mouth right before the hero taps into a place of inner fortitude and kills a thousand ninjas with a shoelace.

When I read the comment, I immediately contacted Abigail, who is always just a speed-dial away, because sometimes I need true things to be false and red to be blue. Also, Abigail is always ready with an analogy about jelly beans or whatever to help me understand thermonuclear dynamics, and she anticipates my questions.

Like, this one time someone told us that she'd had a certain amount of sex in a specific amount of time, and when I heard it I let out this low whistle. I tried to do the long division in my head as I was driving home that afternoon, but it was an obscenely large statistic, so I called Abigail and I just started saying numbers, and she already had a calculator in her hand. (I still think this person’s claim was a physical impossibility. Even if sex was, like, her job. And her animagus was a rabbit.)

So I panicked into the phone about Gossip Girl, and Abigail, who predicted last week’s episode to be the slut spiral that it turned into, told me Blair and Serena, Chuck and Nate would be back on December 19th. See, because when the writers went on strike (which I support, by the way), there were fourteen episodes of Gossip Girl already in the can.

Lately I’ve been asking people who they would appoint for president if they had to choose a person they know. And the person I would choose is Abigail, because:

a) Washington DC is one of her favorite cities, and she would love to live near Kat.

b) She is good at bossing people around.

c) I think she’d make me Heather Anne Hogan, Super Special Ambassador to The United Kingdom, because:

1) I love The United Kingdom.

2) She would want me to talk her up to Prince William.

The only problem is if she made an audacious claim about how much sex she was having with the prince, I would have no way of using math to figure out if she was telling the truth or not.

Aw, who am I kidding, I’d probably believe her anyway. My views on sexuality come from Gossip Girl, and Blair Waldorf had sex with every able-bodied sixteen to eighteen-year-old on the Upper East Side last week.