Author's Note: I've upadated! A lot of you mentioned that the e-mail format is hard to read. I'm sorry, but this chapter is still mostly e-mails because I wrote most of it before posting the first chapter. Next chapter will be different though, I promise! The good news is, this chapter is actually five pages longer than the last one and there is one long scene between Ami and Zach written in narrative form. Enjoy, darlings!

Girls and Boys

Chapter Two: Of Meddling and Matchmaking

In which…Ami's friends start pestering her non-stop about the new neighbor, we learn a bit more about Raye's mysterious (could it be?) boyfriend, Zach and Ami get to know each other—well, sort of, and Ami is insanely happy on a work day.

TO: Trey Reynolds
FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: Tuesday's Article and Layout

Attached is a computerized copy of Tuesday's layout and my article for Tuesday, "Stilettos: The Silent Killer". You will also find printed copies of both the layout and the article on your desk. I wanted to include a photo in the article, but Dennis from Art couldn't find a good one, so there is no illustration for tomorrow's column.

Anything else I can do for you?

Amilene Mizuno

Page Eight Columnist and Layout Director

The New York Journal

TO: Ami Mizuno
FROM: Serena Shields
SUBJECT: Your new (and cute!) neighbor

So, how is your new neighbor? Is he nice? Did you get to know him? I thought you blushing at the sight of him was just too cute!! Your face was like an over-ripe tomato! It was just so red.

Give me all the details!

Much love, Serena

PS- Do you happen to know his last name?

TO: Raye Westwood FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: I Know There's Something Going On

Raye, you can stop writing and then erasing everything you just wrote and shooting not-so-furtive glances my way every minute or so now. I know that something's up. You and the girls are in cahoots planning your next match-making mission, aren't you? Come on, be honest with me. And besides, I already know how you guys go about going this kind of thing. Mina and Serena drilled me in the process sophomore year of college, remember? Launch the double M and hope the third M comes along. Before that? Plan and plan and plan—which is what I'm assuming you girls are doing right now.

Of course, you guys sent Serena to give the first, head-on, no-nonsense attack. And you, Rayena, are presently writing your e-mail to me—the side-attack, sneaky but almost always effective. Hey, I don't mean to be smug, but please try to remember who you are dealing with here—I'm Ami Mizuno, the hopeless case, the odd-ball, the girl who has resisted your attacks for years.

And what's this I hear about Jared Landon? To quote Serena, "our resident feminist" has gotten herself a boyfriend (that's what he is, right?). All joking aside, I'm happy for you, Raye. Of all the people in Manhattan, you belong to the group that deserves happiness the most. I know I just said this, and that it's probably already gotten repetitive for you, but I'm really, really happy for you. I can't wait to meet him at Lita's engagement party!

Yours Truly,

Ami

PS- Serena already sent me the first line of attack, so you better get working on yours!

PPS- Did you finish your Wednesday article yet?

TO: Serena Shields FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: Who?

Dear, wonderful Serena, there is nothing to tell. I only saw him once, with you. And so what if I blushed? I always blush in front of strangers.

Oh, and I know what you and the girls are trying to do, and it is so not working.

Yours Truly,

Ami

PS- No, I do not know his last name. And you will not need his last name because I am not (I repeat, not) going to date him and therefore you do not need to do a background check. Besides, I only met him once—you know as much about him as I do.

TO: Nate Sinclair FROM: Ami Mizuno SUBJECT: Jared Landon

Tell me everything you know about Jared Landon—everything. Is he a good guy? Is he rich or poor? Has he mentioned Raye? What does he look like? Why is he interested in politics and how did he make that up to Raye? How did you two meet? How long and how well do you know him? When and how did he and Raye meet? Details, Nathaniel, details!

Yours Truly,

Ami

PS- How about lunch? I know you're doing that new Japanese place for Wednesday's article and you know how much I love Japanese food. We can split the bill.

TO: Ami Mizuno FROM: Nate Sinclair SUBJECT: How about a deal?

You tell me everything you know about this Zach guy (including what you think of him) and I'll dish the dirt on my old buddy Jared. How about that?

-Nate

PS- Again, how about a deal? You get us (Raye and me) the estimates for our salaries next year and I'll take you to Nobu and pay for lunch. Sounds like a good deal to me.

PPS- You do realize that you are the only person that calls me Nathaniel, right? Just get on the bandwagon and call me Nate already. –N.

TO: Nathaniel Sinclair FROM: Ami Mizuno SUBJECT: Fine!

I never knew that you, Nathaniel Sinclair, could be so sneaky. Lita would be proud. Did the girls put you up to this? Please tell me you did not do this of your own volition.

Anyways, I can get you the estimates. Oh, the things I do for some good food and a little information.

Yours Truly,

Ami

PS- I insist on calling you Nathaniel. It's a perfectly good name. –Ami.

TO: Lita Kino CC: Raye Westwood; Serena Shields; Mina Archer FROM: Nate Sinclair

I have news! I took Ami to lunch today (the new Japanese place, Nobu, is fantastic) and managed to get a few things out of her. (Maybe bribed her would be a better description of the situation.) Well, I got an impressive total of three things out of her: 1) She thinks he's very cute. 2) He was holding Descartes' "Mediations" in one hand when he got the door, which made Ami very pleased. 3) She doesn't know very much about him, but she knows all about our plans.

She figured out that Serena was the first line of attack and Raye the second, with the order of the others changing depending on her reply. (Speaking of which, Serena, has she replied to you yet?) She said that she is completely fearless of your efforts and staunchly refuses to be match-made with some stranger she doesn't know anything about. And she refuses to even speak to him.

How are we going to get them together again? And who is this guy anyways? This is way too complicated. How did Lita drag me into this again?

You guys so totally owe me one,

Nate

THE TOP SECRET JOURNAL OF AMILENE MEREDITH MIZUNO:

This is not good. Not good, I repeat. I can tell that the girls are really, really serious this time. They've even managed, through some amazing feat (that I really do not want to know the particulars of), to rope Nathaniel in with them. What are they going to do next, send a group e-mail to everyone in my office? Oh my God, that's probably exactly what they're going to do! Except I can't warn or tell anyone, because if the girls actually hadn't thought about sending the group e-mail, then they would know now.

I am so scared. Who knows what could happen? When the girls are in Matchmaking Mode, they're about as sane as a bunch of raving lunatics. I mean, I was just bluffing with the entire I-know-what-you're-doing-and-I-will-not-let-it-get-to-me act. What if they pull something entirely different this time, something they've never done before? I am so dead.

Moving on to happier matters, I am happy to say that Raye just may have found her match. I talked to Nathaniel at lunch about Jared Landon, and I have to say, he seems like a good guy. He apparently went to boarding school with Nathaniel, and then went on to Williams College for undergraduate study and later Princeton for grad school. He's got a very solid record, and I can tell through Nate's anecdotes that this Jared Landon is a good guy. Besides, if he's Nate's good friend and Raye's boyfriend, he can't be that bad, right?

Ugh, someone from Art is calling about tomorrow's layout. Have to go!

-Ami.

TO: Raye Westwood rayena.

CC: Nathaniel Sinclair
FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: CONFIDENTIAL

Okay, I got the information you requested, and believe me when I say that it wasn't easy. If you tell anyone (and I mean anyone) about where you got this information, I will make sure your computers never work again.

Here are the salary estimates for next year:

Name: Position: Salary:

Luke Dean Editor-in-chief 120,000

Trey Reynolds Managing Editor 105,000

Amilene Mizuno Layout Director, Columnist 90,000

Rayena Westwood Style Editor 75,000

Nathaniel Sinclair Food Critic 65,000

Beryl Wiling Page Ten Columnist 55,000

It's insane, isn't it?

Amilene Mizuno

Page Eight Columnist and Layout Director

The New York Journal

TO: Ami Mizuno
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: CONFIDENTIAL

Whoa. You make that much more than me? I'm ashamed of myself. I kind of want Nate's job though. Sure, he earns a little less than me, but he can pretty much get into any restaurant he wants and he doesn't have to hang around with snobs all the time.

-Raye.

TO: Raye Westwood
FROM: Ami Mizuno SUBJECT: CONFIDENTIAL

Hey, I don't make that much more than you. And besides, think of it like this—I'm basically working at two 45,000 jobs. (But I live in a miniscule little hell-hole in Brooklyn, whereas you have a spiffy and incredibly spacious loft.) Nathaniel's job certainly guarantees a well-fed stomach, though I'm not quite sure as to how good that would be for us New York women who have to constantly worry about weight. I'd have thought that Beryl would make more though. How can she afford Hermes scarves with only a paltry 55,000 a year?

Yours Truly,

Ami

TO: Ami Mizuno
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: CONFIDENTIAL

Haven't you heard? Beryl comes from money. This job is just a way for her to attend society events so that she can seduce and marry some rich man and have him pay all her bills. Why else would Beryl choose to be a gossip columnist? Well, besides the fact that she likes celebrities and has a big mouth.

-Raye.

TO: Ami Mizuno FROM: Nate Sinclair SUBJECT: CONFIDENTIAL

I cannot believe that you make that much more than me! Damn it, I knew I should have paid more attention to my writing classes in college.

-Nate

TO: Nathaniel Sinclair FROM: Ami Mizuno SUBJECT: Does It Really Matter That Much?

Yes, you should have worked harder in college instead of partying all the time, like Lita said you did. But think of it like this—I basically work two 45,000 jobs. However, I still live in that miniscule hell-hole in Brooklyn with a closet the size of a small fridge, am single (albeit proudly so) and have to go to all sorts of stupid events—crime scenes, charity events, and fashion shows among them; whereas you live in a cool studio, are happily engaged to one of the best people I know, and get to eat all sorts of deliciousness, pretty much 24/7. Do you feel better about yourself now?

Yours Truly,

Ami

TO: Serena Shields CC: Raye Westwood; Lita Kino FROM: Mina Archer
SUBJECT: Project: Ami's love life /version 1.5

Okay, we have got to re-group and re-plan. This may be harder than I thought. The big catch is, we don't know his name, and since Ami doesn't want to get to know him, then we have no chance of getting it out of her. So what do we do?

Xoxo, Mina

TO: Mina Archer
FROM: Lita Kino
SUBJECT: I have an idea!

Well, we know where he lives right? So all we have to do is ask the manager of the building the name of the tenant that lives and the said address.

-Lita

TO: Serena Shields CC: Raye Westwood; Lita Kino FROM: Mina Archer
SUBJECT: Project: Ami's love life /version 1.5 plus

Lita's got a great idea! Basically we track him through his address. Let's start work tomorrow.

Xoxo, Mina

THE TOP SECRET JOURNAL OF AMILENE MEREDITH MIZUNO:

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. My. God. Okay, you will not believe what just happened. It's completely inconceivable! Incredible! And I, Ami Mizuno, am sitting here typing in complete and utter consternation. I have to get all the events of tonight down before I forget. But read this little oxymoron and oddly, the summarization of my night first: The ever-diligent, ever-cool and calm Ami Mizuno had an enormous amount of fun on a Monday night. Seriously, I cannot believe it.

Anyways, here goes the extremely long-winded tale…

I was working diligently on Wednesday's layout when someone rang the doorbell. Surprisingly, it was my new next-door neighbor Zach. Conversation was as follows:

Zach: leans against door-frame So, I ordered way too much Chinese food, and I was wondering if you'd like to help me eat some of it.

Me: looks at him skeptically

Zach: Come on, it'll give us a chance to get to know each other. We are neighbors, after all, right?

Me: laughs Well, who am I to reject someone who reads Descartes?

Zach: raises eyebrows You saw the book?

Me: laughs Come on, food is waiting.

Okay, so the laughing and the easily accepting food parts are rather uncharacteristic of me, but what can I say? I was feeling rather bold tonight, what with an almost-finished Wednesday layout, an article I really like and a very, very empty stomach.

But as I was crossing the hallway, I began to have second thoughts. What if he isn't actually just trying to get to know his neighbor? Is there an ulterior motive? Was I just being naïve and stupid taking up this utter stranger's offer? Or was I just being overly neurotic, like the insanely paranoid person I am? I glance towards him. He can't be that bad, right? He doesn't seem to notice my discomfort and pulls out his keys to unlock the door.

When we step inside, all insecurities momentarily vanish—I am too preoccupied with inspecting my surroundings. I haven't been to that many guys' apartments (just Nathaniel's and Darien's) and I was quite curious. His apartment was, though it sounds odd, neat in a messy way. It was neat for the most part: the furniture was expertly placed and various knick-knacks were arranged neatly along the walls; however, other parts were a lot more messy: there were papers, some with handwritten words, others full of pictures, randomly placed over the coffee-table and even taped to the walls and there were CDs and DVDs strewn all over the place, some astonishingly far away from the TV.

Zach fingers his hair slightly awkwardly, "It's a bit messy around here."

I smile and reply, "No, it's wonderful." My smile soon widens in a full-blown grin when I turn and my eyes land on…Four large bookshelves full of books.

Zach laughs as he sees my look, "Okay, I'll just go and silently consume all the Chinese food while you communicate with my bookshelves in your own sacred language."

I tilt my head, my expression pensive, "Hmmm… Books or food? Books or food?" Just then, my stomach growls loudly. Zach grins at me, "Come on, let's feed your stomach first. It sounds like it's not very happy with you right now." I try to pull on an annoyed expression, but a smile breaks out instead, "Food it is!"

We sit at his kitchen table and I inspect the takeout boxes one by one. I make a sound of approval, "Hmmm… Not bad. You have slightly redeemed yourself in my eyes." He clutches a hand to his heart as if hurt, "Whatever did I do to deserve your bad opinion?"

I cluck my tongue, "Well, you ordered Thai, for one."

He furrows his eyebrows, "Whatever is wrong with Thai food?"

I whine, "How can you stand the smell?" He laughs at my expression.

"Well, what do you know about me besides the fact that I like Thai?"

I smile, "Besides the fact that you have deplorable taste in food, I know that you have really great taste in music and read Descartes."

He raises his eyebrows, "I'm still wondering about how you managed to see clearly what book I was holding, not to mention know who Descartes is."

I smile, "I went on a hard-core philosophy binge once in college."

He gapes at me, "You mean you didn't read the philosophy books for class?"

I flush red, embarrassed, "Well, yeah. Actually, no, but…" Words seem to fail me as I stutter awkwardly. I finally give up, "Okay, I'm just going to get up and leave to save the floor the trouble of swallowing me up."

He seems to bounce back from his surprise and motions me to stay, "No, no, stay! I didn't mean the surprise in a bad way. It's just…"

I sit back down, more than a little curious about what he has to say, "What?"

He explains, "It's just… Pretty much no one reads philosophy for philosophy itself. I can't believe I've finally found another rare specimen!" He gestures towards me excitedly.

"Wait, another rare specimen?" I question him, lifting my left eyebrow, "You read philosophy too?"

"In high school," he admits with a touch of embarrassment.

This time it is my turn to gape at him, "High school? I didn't even get to Kant until college. What school did you go to?!" I demanded an answer.

He smiles, "Two years at Dalton and two years at Andover."

"You've got to be kidding me." I immediately recognize the two schools, "That must have cost your parents a fortune!"

He becomes slight aloof at the mention of money (or is it his parents?). But he easily brushes it away and asks me, "What school did you go to anyway?"

"Exeter," I can't help the smug smirk spreading across my face as I see his astonished face.

He rolls his eyes at me, "Geek."

"Prep," I retort without a second thought. (It's actually quite cool, meeting someone from Phillips Andover. It's sort of like being in on some great inside joke, what with me being from Phillips Exeter. Phillips Exeter and Phillips Andover were founded by two members of the same family, and there has always been an underlying competition between the two schools, even though Exeter is so obviously the better one. Okay, so maybe that was a little biased, but still.)

He says, "Hey, what's with you criticizing my tuition fees? Exeter isn't cheap either."

My smug smirk grows just a bit wider and I pause to take a bite of the Chinese food before I reply, "I was accepted to Exeter with a full scholarship. And besides, Dalton's ridiculously more expensive than either Andover or Exeter."

He makes a little unsatisfied sound, "What about college? Which university did you go to?"

I answer proudly, "Columbia. I wanted to get used to the big city before living here."

"Princeton," he replied to my unspoken question. "I wanted to get away from the big city for six years."

"You're a New Yorker?" I ask questioningly.

His tone is smug and a touch blasé, like a true New Yorker, as he replies, "Born and bred."

I smile, "So. Anything else I should know about you?"

He doesn't skip a beat, "I have great taste in clothes." I cannot help but giggle at the self-assured look on his face. I eye his T-shirt skeptically, "You call that 'I Eat Bananas' T-shirt good taste in clothes? Even I, a clothing-dyslexic, know that novelty tees aren't really characterized as fashion."

He stares at me like I'm some monster. Neither of us says anything for an entire minute. Then, he speaks, slowly, pronouncing each syllable clearly, "The world has imploded." We look at each other for a second and then suddenly burst out laughing. He points to his T-shirt, still half-laughing, "I'll have you know that this T-shirt was once owned by the lead singer of the band Rooney."

I purse my lips, "You're a Rooney fan?"

"Aren't you?" He asks the question like it's a complete no-brainer.

I, like the real antagonist I'm not, settle for a side jab, "Robert Carmichael writes really deep lyrics, right?"

Zach purposely ignores my sarcasm, "Of course he does!"

"Okay… Um, obviously, he doesn't."

He takes a very deep breath, considering my words, "Okay, I'm not going to argue with you about that. But…One question for you—What do I need to know about you?"

I look up at him, "Well, at least know that I despise Indian and Thai food."

A smile slowly spreads over his face, "Oh you're good."

"What?" I blink innocently.

He points his finger at me accusingly, "You're manipulating me. Now I can't order Thai or Indian takeout without feeling guilty."

"I never knew you were that much of a gentleman." I grin, "But thank you for agreeing to never order Indian or Thai food."

He gapes openly at me and I resist the urge to giggle uncontrollably, "That was totally…uh, what the? You! Why, I never would have suspected it. You look so innocent and kind, so generally nice. So what other things do I need to know about you, besides the fact that you're brilliant at manipulation?"

"Well… I am interested in various fields of academia and will read books on anything from psychology to medicine."

Zach wiggles his eyebrows expressively, "Oh, a book reader… What's your favorite TV show?"

"House MD," I reply without thinking.

"Okay…So you're both a book reader and a TV watcher. Hmmm."

"Hey, it's not as if the two can't co-exist," I pause, "What's your favorite TV show?"

"30 Rock. The show seriously rocks, and you can learn all sorts of things from it." We sit for a while like that in companionable silence.

After a little while, I reach over to take one of the fortune cookies. I take a large bite, cracking the cookie open to reveal the little slip of paper hidden inside. I furrow my eyebrows, however, at the indecipherable characters printed on the paper, "Since when did they start to write fortune cookie messages in Chinese?"

Zach leaned over to take a look at my slip of paper, "Oh, it says 'hao shi zheng zai xiang ni zou lai.'"

I gape at him, "You can read Chinese?"

He replies slightly embarassed, "Well, yes."

I make shocked expressions for a few more moments and then ask, "Translation, please?"

And despite me being a generally controlled, and slightly jaded human being, I couldn't help but want to put complete faith in his next words: good things are coming your way. Even though it's completely unscientific and just plain superstitious to believe in something off of a slip of paper that is written in Chinese no less, I really want--and beyond all reason--do believe in his words. Things probably aren't going to change very much since I'm still sitting in my crappy apartment, working on Wednesday's layout and writing in my computerized journal, but U2's "Beautiful Day" is playing, and maybe it really will be a beautiful day tomorrow. I have a choice--I can choose to believe in a silly slip of paper and be happy or I can be completely and pathetically miserable like the rest of New York.

Call me foolish or call me flightly, but I choose to be happy.

-Ami.

TO: Ami Mizuno
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: Stop Smiling!

Could you stop smiling for, like, ONE second?! I swear your face is going to be torn apart by your overly-humungous grin. Yesterday was the crappiest day of the week. Oh no, wait—something happened. Or else you wouldn't be smiling like, well, that. Like you're insanely happy and you don't care if the rest of the world is completely miserable. Which it is, by the way, Miss Smiley Face.

Oh my God, no. You did not— You… You're humming! This is unbelievable! You're humming on a Tuesday morning! You hate Tuesdays! Do you need me to remind you of that fact now?

WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!

-Raye.

TO: Raye Westwood FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: Good Morning to You Too!

Someone's in a mood. So what if I'm humming? So what if I'm smiling? I want to hum and I want to smile. And for your information, I am humming U2's "Beautiful Day".

And no, the world has not imploded.

Yours Truly,

Ami

PS- I assure that I am still sane. And I've already finished Wednesday and Thursday's articles and layouts. Ha. I am so ahead schedule.

PPS- Nothing big happened last night. Seriously Raye, there's no need to be so paranoid. –Ami.

TO: Trey Reynolds
FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: Wednesday and Thursday's Article and Layout

Attached are the computerized copies of Wednesday and Thursday's layouts and my articles. You will also find printed copies of the layouts and the articles on your desk.

Oh, and could you please give me the rough draft for Friday's layout? Thanks!

Amilene Mizuno

Page Eight Columnist and Layout Director

The New York Journal

TO: Ami Mizuno
FROM: Trey Reynolds
SUBJECT: Great Work!

The rough draft should be on your desk by noon and the computerized copy is attached.

I appreciate your enthusiasm. Good work! I especially like Thursday's article.

Trey Reynolds

Managing Editor

The New York Journal

TO: Raye Westwood
FROM: Trey Reynolds
SUBJECT: What Is Up With Ami?

She has practically finished her work (impeccably) for the entire week almost three days early. What is up? Does she need a vacation? And why is she smiling and humming all the time? The Ami I know does not hum at work. I do appreciate the fact that she has turned in all her assignments early, but this is just downright strange.

Trey Reynolds

Managing Editor

The New York Journal

TO: Raye Westwood
FROM: Nate Sinclair
SUBJECT: What's with Ami?

Raye, do you know what in the world is up with Ami? She's humming U2 and Rooney songs and grinning so hard her face looks like its going to break. Ami does not hum, and she especially doesn't hum U2 and Rooney songs at work! She usually doesn't even smile at work, much less grin manically. I don't mean to be mean, but has she gone nutters or something? And what's with all those happy vibes radiating from her cubicle? It's Tuesday morning! We're supposed to be miserable!

-Nate

TO: Nate Sinclair
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: I have NO idea!

I have absolutely NO idea as not why she's so bleeding happy today. I sent her an e-mail and she pretty much said nothing. Nothing—no explanations, no half-baked excuses, not even an outright lie. All she said was, quote, un-quote, "the world has not imploded". What the…? Even I can't make heads or tails out of her behavior—Tuesday is supposed to be her least favorite day of the week. Do you want to know what other loony things she's been up to? Things like handing in her articles and the layouts for Wednesday and Thursday early. She handed them in this morning and Trey Reynolds just e-mailed me to ask about Ami!

At this point, I am wondering at her sanity. But if it's any consolation, she assures me that she is still sane. Right. Like I believe that.

I'm completely baffled.

-Rei.

TO: Raye Westwood
FROM: Nate Sinclair
SUBJECT: If you're baffled…

Then the rest of us have no hope of finding out anything, much less why she is in this happy-happy grin-grin hum-hum mood of hers. I understand if something good came up and she became really happy because of that, but handing in assignments days early?

-Nate

TO: Trey Reynolds
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: What Is Up With Ami?

Unfortunately, I do not know what is up with Ami either. I'm fairly sure that she doesn't want a vacation, even though she hasn't taken any days off. But hey, look on the bright side: she turned in all of her assignments early. Isn't that good for the paper? Although Ami turning in assignments early again really reminds me of her in high school and Columbia.

Rayena Westwood

Style Editor

The New York Journal

TO: Ami Mizuno
FROM: Beryl Wiling
SUBJECT: What are you, insane?

What is with you? You're humming and smiling—and I don't mean to be rude, but you're not very pretty when you smile and you hum slightly off-key, not to mention the fact that you really have extraordinarily poor taste in music. And Trey said you handed in your assignments in early. No offense or anything, but isn't this sucking up to the boss a little too much? What is up with you? Just be miserable like the rest of New York City on a crappy Tuesday morning.

Beryl Wiling

Page Ten Columnist

The New York Journal

TO: Beryl Wiling FROM: Ami Mizuno
SUBJECT: No, I'm Just Insanely Happy

I am not insane or sucking up to my boss—I am simply insanely happy and working with high efficiency. And for your information, I do not care whether or not you think I'm pretty or not when I'm smiling or if I hum a little bit off-key. And I staunchly believe that I have good taste in music. I also refuse to "be miserable" like the rest of New York. Why should I? My fortune cookie said, "Hao shi zheng zai xiang ni zou lai."

Zai jian, Ami.

Amilene Mizuno

Page Eight Columnist and Layout Director

The New York Journal

TO: Raye Westwood
FROM: Beryl Wiling
SUBJECT: What is WITH Amilene Mizuno?

What's up with Little Miss I'm-the-epitome-of-happiness over there? I sent her a perfectly nice e-mail asking whether or not she had mental problems and she replied with something that was said in her fortune cookies! That is just WRONG. Amilene Mizuno smiling and humming at work is WRONG. Her handing in assignments early is WRONG. (Trey's sent three e-mails asking about tomorrow's column. He usually doesn't start asking until three in the afternoon.) Her being insanely happy while WE suffer is WRONG.

Humph.

Beryl

Beryl Wiling

Page Ten Columnist

The New York Journal

TO: Beryl Wiling
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: She is HAPPY

There is nothing wrong with Ami! She's just happy. Oh, and you sending a "perfectly nice" email? Very plausible. You probably insulted her looks, taste in music and accused her of sucking up to Trey. Really, you should know by now that I'm not some credulous idiot. As for the fortune cookie, she probably just ordered Chinese takeout again.

I'm positively thrilled to see you back from your exhaustively long vacation and getting back to work, of course.

Rayena Westwood

Style Editor

The New York Journal

TO: Nate Sinclair
FROM: Raye Westwood
SUBJECT: We need to take drastic measures!

Beryl Wiling just e-mailed me. Beryl! And yes, I am talking about the Beryl that hates me and wouldn't e-mail me unless she was extremely bothered by something Ami or I did. Of course, I replied to her e-mail with scathing retorts, but I think that I now need convincing as to Ami's sanity.

I mean, just look at the girl! She's grinning like a lunatic! Oh my God, do you think that she contracted some disease with a symptom of euphoria? Nope, that's not very likely. After all, she is an almost pre-med student and science enthusiast.

But seriously, WHAT IS UP WITH HER?

-Raye.

PS- This new penchant for handing in assignments early of hers is so not fun. Trey just asked me for the second time today if I have finished my column yet. –R.


How was it? Constructive criticism is appreciated. Also, I'd love to have someone to bounce ideas off of and/or an editor/beta, so if you think you're up to the task, email me at ladyyueying(at)gmail(dot)com. Comments are always appreciated. Feel free to e-mail me about whatever--I'm a very friendly person once you get to know me and I always like new friends. &hearts, aminitna.