Dinner with gorgeous Marc by Marc Jacobs-clad X. who told me illuminating things about J. over pâté, duck prosciutto, foie gras, truffled fries and Champagne cocktails. Thought that J. was always consumed with envy and bitterness and spoke from a place of anger. Felt superior to me when I was down, then couldn't handle me when I woke up from my 1,000-year sleep. Kissed by the spiderwoman. A poisonous girl that chick. X. thought B. was socially inept, too. Feel so relieved to hear another perspective. And really, what did J. and I ever do have in common? Not books, not football (yuck). Not style, not substance. Good riddance, I say! As to Dish, I'd give them 2.75 out of 5. They still have some kinks to work out.
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