She blocked you

Cutting people out

Andiamo, beautiful dilettantes.

I’m projecting on you. I feel like a dilettante of late, which is to say that, professionally speaking, I eat a little jam from this jar, I eat a little jam from that jar. I pick up an egg, I put down an egg. I put it in the fridge. I put it in the freezer. I put it in the sink. Am I making myself clear? There are two eggs, but—here, it all hinges on this— at minimum. If there are two, are there one million? That is, if you think of an egg, is there an egg? I’m on the case. I’ll keep you posted.

In other news: I continue boldly filling my silly little days with silly little things, because how we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives. For instance, I’ve followed through on my bravado: I’m a gym rat now*. Here’s live footage of me.

This week’s question is about friendship gone wonky. Read on! And as always, you can send me your questions anonymously here.

*Went to one strength-training class and talked about it incessantly for the next three days.

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Dear Sofia,
A really close friend of mine kissed me one night at her place while she was drunk. It was a culmination of her being touchy and flirty, that I honestly ignored because she's intoxicated. Anyway, the morning after she said sorry and I said it's fine, no harm done. But I would be lying if I say it didn't mess up with my head. We were okay for weeks, like normal, when suddenly she just stopped replying. And then a week after I found out she blocked me on social media, which was weird because she was hardly even on there. I tried reaching out once just to ask what happened or if I did something wrong, but no reply. I really enjoyed being her friend so this sucks. What do you think happened here? Should I try to reach out again?

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A note!
I’ve unpaused paid subscriptions on this newsletter, so if you’d like to support me *financially*, you can now opt for an upgrade! But let me be honest: nothing will be different on the other side of the paywall. You will get the same newsletter, plus a wave of feel-good energy that comes from giving me, Sofia Warren, money. I’m not offering you any tangible perks because, though I would very much like to, the straight shakes are that I am faulty and I might not follow through on them. If you pay me, I’ll think of you fondly when I use your money to make my life $5 nicer through, say, snacks, socks, or Muji pens. And if you don’t pay me, know that I remain very grateful for your readership, even if I can’t wear that gratitude on my stinky feet.

Hasta pronto,
S