In the midst of the madness, Jill Zarin arrived. All animosity between us aside, I was really happy when she showed up, because I knew she could do it. No clue how “I’m glad you’re here” translates into picking on Jill. Just because she said I was picking on her doesn’t mean I actually was; if I walk outside on a sunny day and say “Please make this blizzard stop,” that doesn’t mean it’s snowing. When she whines that people pick on her, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. While I don’t think I was picking on her at the time, over the years I’ve gotten so sick of her game that my lack of tolerance for her nonsense may come across as picking. Or, she picked up on my mood from the Sonja drama and thought I was directing it at her. Oh well. I was genuinely happy that she "walked the walk" that day, and we agreed that when she returned from Australia, we’d sit down one-on-one and have a conversation.
I didn’t say a word about the march drama during the wedding reception at our house, though I did want to hear Simon’s speech. As Sonja left our house, I suggested we get together over champagne soon, and she agreed. I also wasn’t going to say a word to her on the third day post-march at the Gucci event or the fourth day at the art unveiling with Brian. Although I did download Ramona at the Gucci dinner so she understood why I didn’t want to sit with Sonja, my intent was to have a lunch with her privately and iron things out. Sonja and I are friends, and friends don’t bail on the relationship because of one crazy thing that happens. When I arrived at her house, I was blown away that Sonja brought up MENY in her hallway, removed from the guests but still within earshot.