At 2 p.m., she blogs this:
Another LEFT SIDE OF JULIA’S FACE shot. I know, I know, two in one week. Holy hell! Don’t get used to them, though. I like what I like, and my little pose gives me security, stability and predictability, which I sorely need ;) Indulge me, please.
It goes on in boring detail pleading for readers to give her ideas on how to cover Fashion Week again because, as usual, this "journalist" doesn't have a clue. We won't bore you.
But, four hours later, we get another one of those crazy "I'M HAPPY!!!! I'M REALLY REALLY REALLY HAPPY!!!!" missives that she's prone to whenever no one's speaking to her:
Let me get this straight. You've just had a public bitchfight with your supposed best friend over the most shallow of subject matters -- designer clothing that didn't make you look enough like "the hot one." You're talking about a need for security and stability just hours earlier. You confess not having spoken to your own mother for a month (I suspect this resulted from her parents' lecturing her about the lunacy of a bi-coastal birthday party when the economy, and likely her business, is in the toilet. She Twittered and/or blogged about that at one point, and seemed proud that she basically told them to piss off). You've apparently not managed to convince the married gazillionaire you confessed to having a "totally inappropriate crush on" to a third date. You are increasingly becoming an international laughing stock -- even the Germans are making fun of you, and have you ever seen a German game show? Those people love tacky.
And yet this is happiness? Or is this yet another passive-aggressive shot at whomever you're trying to prove a point to? I am guessing Mary. Better to pretend you've never been happier the day after really hurting a friend than to actually publicly apologize the way you publicly humiliated her, right?