“Dude's tired just thinking about it!” Anthony said, pointing at Nate and cackling. Nate laughed and shook his head, trying to shake their words out of his ears. He lay back in the grass and stared at the empty blue sky. If he tilted his head all the way back, he could just see the rooftops of the penthouses along Fifth Avenue, Serena's and Blair's included. Nate let his chin fall so all he could see was blue sky again. He was too baked to deal with any of this. He tuned his friends out and tried to clear his mind completely, his head as empty and blue as the sky. But he couldn't get the images of Serena and Blair out of his mind's eye, floating naked above his head. “You know you love me,” they were saying. Nate smiled and closed his eyes. Disclaimer: All the real names of places, people, and events have been altered or abbreviated to protect the innocent. Namely, me. hey people! I know it hasn't been long. But I can't resist writing more about N. My new favorite topic. He is so stunningly beautiful, after all. Even if he is kind of lacking in the balls department. STONED IN CENTRAL PARK Actually, my new favorite topic is the Waspoid–the elite version of the wasteoid, or stoner boy. Unlike the average stoner wasteoid, the Waspoid isn't into metal or online dungeon games or skateboarding or eating vegan. He gets cute haircuts and has good skin. He smells nice, he wears the cashmere sweaters his girlfriend buys for him, he gets decent grades, and he's sweet to his mom. He sails and plays soccer. He knows how to tie a necktie. He knows how to dance. He's sexy! But the Waspoid never fully invests himself in anything or anyone. He isn't a go-getter and he never says what's on his mind. He doesn't take risks, which is what makes it so risky to fall in love with him.You might have noticed that I'm just the opposite–I never know when to shut up! And I seriously believe that opposites attract. I have to confess, I'm becoming a Waspoid groupie.Apparently I'm not the only one. Your E-mail Dear Gossip Girl,i hooked up majorly with N on a blanket in central park. at least, i think it's the same N . he's all freckley, right? does he smell like suntan lotion and weed?–blanketbaby Dear blanketbaby, Hmmm. I bet he does. –GG SIGHTINGS B buying condoms at Zitomer Pharmacy. Lifestyles Extra-Long Super-Ribbed! What I want to know is how she knew what size to get. I guess they've done everything but. Afterwards, B made a beeline (no pun intended!) to the J. Sisters salon for her first Brazilian bikini wax. Ouch. But believe me, it's worth it. Also caught S at the post office, mailing a big package. Barneys baby clothes for her little French tot, maybe? Caught I and K in the 3 Guys Coffee Shop, eating fries and hot cocoa again. They'd just returned those cute little dresses they bought at Bendel's the other day–oh dear, are they getting too fat?–and were discussing other options for what to wear to the Kiss on the Lips party. Too bad it's not a toga party. Vocab Since so many of you have been asking, I'm going to answer the big question that's been baffling you since you found out about the party for the peregrine falcons. Okay. According to my handy unabridged dictionary: Falcon, n. 1. any of several birds of prey of the family Falconidae, esp. of the genus Falco, usually distinguished by long, pointed wings, a hooked beak with a tooth-like notch on each side of the upper bill, and swift agile flight, typically diving to seize prey: some falcon species are close to extinction. Peregrine falcon, a globally distributed falcon, Falco perigrinus, much used in falconry because of its swift flight.I'm sure I had you on the edge of your seat about that one. But I'm just trying to keep you in the know–that's my job.See you in the park! You know you love me,? s tries to improve herself “Well, it's wonderful to have you back, dear,” Ms. Glos, Constance's college advisor, told Serena. She picked her glasses up from where they were hanging around her neck on a gold chain and slid them onto her nose so she could examine Serena's schedule, which was lying on her desk. “Let's see, now. Mmmm. Yes. Right,” she muttered, reading the schedule over. Serena sat in front of Ms. Glos, with her legs crossed, waiting patiently. There were no diplomas on Ms. Glos's wall, no evidence of any accreditations at all, just pictures of her grandchildren. Serena wondered if Ms. Glos had even gone to college. You would have thought that if she were going to dish out advice on the subject, she could have at least tried it. Ms. Glos cleared her throat. &ldqu............