E//Blast: Gone Girl(s)

Apologies for my radio silence—two days without a post? Practically a lifetime in Upper East Side years. But let’s be real: between the meltdowns, mocktails, and one of our own fleeing Manhattan like she’s dodging a subpoena, your favorite source has been a bit… preoccupied.

But fear not, I’m back. And so is the mess.

H.T., once our mysterious mourning miss, is suddenly singing like a canary—and not in a cute Broadway revival kind of way. She's been chirping questionable takes, unraveling secrets she has no business airing, and baby, she’s not just poking the bear—she’s dragging it by its designer collar.

And speaking of vanishing acts... remember Cherry Ice? High heels, higher standards, and a frozen heart that could stop traffic on 5th Ave? Turns out she didn’t run off to Paris or a quiet Hamptons hideaway. No, darling. She’s in Scranton.

Yes, that Scranton. Where dreams go to rot in fluorescent lighting and nobody knows what a martini glass looks like unless it’s plastic.

Why? Who knows. Guilt? Reinvention? A downward spiral masked as a spiritual cleanse? All I know is: you can’t outrun the truth forever, not even in knockoff sunglasses and a hoodie from Target.

The girls are cracking. The silence is over. And I’ve got my phone fully charged.

You missed me, didn’t you?

XOXO, Gossip Girl