If you’re like us, you’ve spent some considerable amount of time wondering just where the heck New York Times reporter and one-time-Katharine-Graham-successor Jenny 8. Lee disappeared to.
Her parties were legendary. Her stories dominated water-cooler talk (who can forget “A BlackBerry Throbs, And a Wonk Has a Date” or “Washington Talk; If You’re Not Invited, You’re Not Alone” or “The Days and Nights of Juleanna Weiss“). And she had a pretty cool name (although, now that she’s skipped town, we’re putting our money on the Post’s J. Freedom du Lac).
But then her crazy landlord began swirling rumors about the condition of Jenny’s apartment. (Katharine Graham’s landlord–as if she would rent!–would never say this: “There was urinating and defecating on the property, vomiting on the stairways. The kitchen was destroyed, the floors were destroyed, my baby grand piano was used as a wet bar and taken apart.”) Next thing we knew, the parties stopped and she packed her things to return to the Big Apple. She now works as a Metro reporter for the Times, penning such must-read eye-catchers as “Man Attacks Driver; Dies Moments Later.”
Well, looks like she’s been busy writing a book about “how Chinese food is more all-American than apple pie.” She received a six-figure bonus for the book. I’m making my next man date over a steaming bowl of dumplings.