entertainment. the susan lucci section or banal love songs of the nineties?
what are you doing?
what is this, like freebase?
more.
what about legalizing everything? has anybody talked about that?
what if every country legalized at the same time?
did you meet the president?
will we get invited to the white house?
how long's the job?
that makes mom the czarina. i'm a czarette. like anastasia.
none of my friends can fucking believe my dad is the actual drug czar.
sorry, but i mean, come on.
it's great, daddy. it's just amazing, that's all.
all i'm saying, what i'm saying, is it never seems like anybody ever says anything that matters to them, like we all look at each other and nod with responses we've been trained to make, not real responses, just social conventions, phony, fake smiles, surface bullshit.  i mean, we're all smart and do we have any idea what each other are like, really like? do i know what seth's afraid of, or vanessa, or fucked-up bowman?
probably, but do i ever say this stuff, just say, "hey, i'm uncomfortable in this crowd, i don't know what the fuck i'm doing, either? i know you're afraid and it's okay-- "
and vanessa doesn't think she's pretty so she does all these weird fucking diets which is totally about self- esteem. and she's beautiful. and that's not even fair. because listen to me. i'm fucking lying right now. this is exactly what i'm talking about.  i'm supposedly talking about you, making some big point about you, and it's really about me. so i should talk about me, not you, not even the universal "you" okay. okay, i'm worried i'm not really smart or that i'm not nearly as smart as people think i am, or that my parents' expectations have been way too high since i was five, i mean who knows they're going to harvard when they're five, not that i'm blaming them for anything because everything's great, and i may not even get in, but we all feel this shit and we never acknowledge it and if we can't acknowledge it to the people we care the most about then who will we ever say it too and what kind of life will that be?
ach, that's what i'm talking about. sarcasm. always fucking sarcasm. you're afraid and you think if you admit it people will think you're weak or won't like you --
is he breathing?
are you kidding.  i'm staying with you --
sixteen
yes.
yes.
i volunteer. i read to blind people. one day a week for two hours.
cincinnati country day.
yeah.
i'm third in my class.
i get a's. all a's.
i'm a national merit finalist. i'm on the hi-q team and the math team. i'm in the spanish club. i'm a thespian. i'm vice-president of my class. i'm on the volleyball team.
did you tell dad?
are you going to?
is this bad for him?
he didn't hang around us. he's like one of those hippie kids. i'm not part of that group. it was a party in all these rooms. his girlfriend who i barely know was completely hysterical.  he's blue, he's puking.  we didn't want to get in trouble, but what were we supposed to do? i mean, what would you have done if you had been us?
he's a friend. he's also like the only one who was dealing with the situation. he'd definitely had a few beers, but it's not like he wanted to drive. we didn't know what else to do. it wasn't my pot.
like always.
maybe we could show up and smoke a little rock with them to unwind --
have you done your homework, honey?
then here's a little bump.
come on.  we've been here before.
fuck off.
i think so. if she didn't she should have. i've only got maybe an hour. then volleyball practice is over and i have to be home.
the maid.  they ask her what time i get back. she spies for them.
i wish we could stay here. just be here forever and ever. make it a little home.
okay.
who is it? i'm going to the bathroom.
one minute.
excuse me --
fuck you. i wasn't doing anything. you're like the gestapo.
like i give a fuck.
you can't make me.
hi. i'm caroline. i'm not sure i'm an alcoholic. i mean i don't really like to drink. for someone my age it's so much easier to get drugs than beer. i don't know, this is really weird and i'm really nervous.
i guess i'm angry. i mean i think i'm really angry about a lot of stuff, but i don't know what exactly.
please --
don't --
hi, daddy.
it's gonna be great.  i mean, i'm okay and all, because, see, i met a guy, he's in this pretty famous band and.  they've invited me to write lyrics for them, i'm gonna be able to do that and maybe sing, too.  not at first, but later.
i've been doing research for the school paper, that's what i've been doing, like on assignment kind-of, i've seen some stuff you wouldn't believe, but i'm gonna write it all down into lyrics. they think i'm really good, everybody says so, what do you think?
on the good days i feel like i get it, like it all makes sense. i can stay in the moment. i don't have to control everything in the future. and i believe everything is going to work out fine. on the bad days, i just want to grab the phone and start dialing numbers. i want to pull my hair and run through the streets screaming. but, thanks to the people i've met in these rooms, people like margaret and jim and sarah, people who've taught me how to listen, i'm pretty sure i'll make it through today.