Oh, dear. Where do I begin? (Shakes head.)
We see me at lunch with Keith, and it looks like I'm doing all the talking! Literally. All. Of. It. Fun! I don't feel like a total loser or anything watching that. If I look and sound visibly nervous, it's not your imagination: I was terrified. Everyone has their dream job -- for me, that was writing for ELLE. When I pitched them my Guinea Pig of Love column, it meant a lot to me (read the series, in which new columns will appear every week for the next seven). I desperately wanted to make a good impression, but I guess I just sounded desperate. Note to self: when feeling desperate STOP TALKING. Or just, you know, stop talking in general. Sigh.
Meanwhile, Amy looks insanely hot working out at the gym. Damn you, Amy! Anyway I do love a good ice-skating date, because I'm a dork, apparently, although I'm a little intimidated by Amy's discipline -- no hot chocolate? Girlfriend, I eat bags of chocolate on the regular. How else am I supposed to deal with stress? Go to the gym and be healthy?! Oh, wait. Hmm. Maybe Amy's on to something here.