Hey people! Only two weeks left to make up out minds about which college we want to go to- for those of us who have a choice. Meanwhile, we are busy mastering the art of not flunking out of our last ever term of high school while spending as little time as possible actually in school or doing homework. If you see a group of immaculately groomed girls shedding their blue-and-white-seersucker uniforms and lying out in Sheep Meadow in Central Park in their cute new Malia Mills bikinis, that's us. If you see a group of shirtless boys in rolled-up khakis and bare feet, platinum Cartier tank watches gleaming from their tanned, lacrosse-muscled arms, those would be our boyfriends. And okay, yeah, it's only 11am on Friday and we're supposed to be in gym or AP French, but we're nearing the end of the most difficult year of our lives and we have a lot of excess steam to blow off, so cut us some slack, okay? Better yet, join us. In case you've been hiding under a rock somewhere and don't yet know us- doesn't everyone? - We are the belles of the ball, the princesses and princes of New York's Upper East Side. Most of the time we live in penthouse apartment in those stately doorman buildings on Park or Fifth avenues or in town houses that take up half a city block. The rest of the time we're at one of our "country" houses, which vary in size and location from compounds in Connecticut or the Hamptons to medieval castles in Ireland to beachfront villas in St. Barts. Weekdays there is school- yawn- at one of Manhattan's small, single-sex, uniform-required private schools. Weekends we play hard, especially now that the weather is fine and our parents are off in their yachts or private jets or driver-operated town cars, leaving us crazy kids to do as we please. And what pleases us most right now is one of out favorite three-letter words. You may not be doing it, but you're definitely talking about it. Everyone's talking about it. And some of us are doing it. Especially.... THE COUPLES THAT MAY AS WELL BE MARRIED They sleep together, eat together, and have started sharing each other's clothes, as if they couldn't be bothered with sorting out the rumples pile of his-and-hers clothing beside the bed and just shrugged into the nearest thing, knowing it would soon be shrugged off again. Neither of them can go anywhere alone without people asking "where's.........?" as if it's totally unbelievable that they would spend more than thirty seconds apart. I know, I can hear you scoffing already. Like , how boring to have only one boyfriend. But face it, they're definitely doing more than just talking about that three-letter word, which is more than can be said for the rest of us. Your e-mail Q: Dear GG My dad is an independent film producer and he's at Cannes right now for the festival. Everyone is talking about this document about "privileged New York City teens," but no one knows who made it. First of all, are you in the film? Second of all, are you the one who made it? -LA girl A: Dear LA girl I can't really answer your first question because I haven't seen the film, but it sounds awfully familiar.... A certain shaven-headed girl was following everyone around with a camera a few weeks back... As for your second question- I can barely take pictures with my camera-phone! -GG Sightings S after midnight, tiptoeing out to the mailbox outside her fifth avenue apartment building with her arms full of big white envelopes emblazoned with various college crests. She was wearing an itty-bitty baby blue Cosabella nightgown that barely covered her famously gorgeous bottom (to the delight of the doormen on duty and all the cabbies stuck in traffic), but tiptoed back inside again without nailing anything. It must be tough making a decision about next year when she got into every school she applied to, and maybe even some that she didn't! C taking his military-issue scary-looking black boots to Tod's for a little spruce-up. he's going to be the first cadet ever to wear pink tassels in his boots. D and J fighting over the mirror in H&M. looks like a little sibling rivalry has set in now that they're both so famous. V at an internet café in Williamsburg IMing random strangers. That girl has no fear. K and I feasting and scheming in Jackson Hole. Oh, God, what now? No sign of N or B... Jeez, don't they ever get bored of each other? What if they have to be apart next year? Decisions, decisions.... Where will we all be in one year's time? Can we possibly survive without each other? Try not to freak out-yet. You know where to find me in case you need help, or company, or want to invite me over for one of those spontaneous rooftop parties that end-of-the-year seniors are so famous for having. You know I love you Gossip Girl