ear Sarahhepola.com,
What is going on over there? Are you moving to New York?
I am. I’ll be driving up at the beginning of August. I’ve notified my bosses at the paper, but they’ve been kind enough to let me stay through the end of July. I don’t have a job in New York yet, but I do have a couch to sleep on. If you live in New York, I would like to have lunch with you. Perhaps Chinese.

Dear Sarahhepola.com,
Breaking up is a bitch. Totally suckity-suck-suck. Are you doing all right?
Strangely, yes. Yesterday was warm and balmy and I wore my New Summer Skirt, a free-flowing knee-length number with yellow and orange swirls (Isaac Mizrahi, Target, $30-ish). After work, I went to my old house to play with the cat, and my ex and I split a six-pack and chatted about our lives. It was lovely. And this from a girl who once dealt with a breakup by bingeing on Keystone tallboys, crying “No one will ever love me again – no one, no one,” and vomiting in the sink. You know, 30’s kinda nice.

Dear Sarahhepola.com,
Does your daughter hav pen!le or erect:le dysfunctions?
Hmm. I think you’ve confused me with my mother, Susan. I don’t have a daughter.

Dear SH.com,
Do you really watch a lot of TV?
Unabashedly. Two nights ago, I watched the finale to America’s Next Top Model, which was riveting, especially not having seen any other episode. But that wasn’t necessary to understand Naima’s triumph over poverty and self-immolation. I have to say, girls, there’s nothing like seeing a Cover Girl model talk about how much she hates the way she looks to make you realize we are all, indeed, bananas. Next week: American Idol finale! Who will survive?

Dear Sarahhepola.com,
When Gwen Stefani claims she is no “Hollaback Girl,” what is she talking about?
I don’t know. And it bothers me.

Dear Sarahhepola.com,
What's next for us?
Why, summer, of course.