Me: “ngh” Cal: “well Put.” ...... Every

And In What Fairy Tale Would John Ever Be Any Sane Person's Idea Of Prince Charming Anyway? He Was The Opposite Of Charming. More Like Prince Terrifying.

It’s One Thing To Protect Yourself,” Dad Yelled At Me During Our Very Next Lunch. “that I Get. Have I Ever Told You Not To Defend Yourself? No. But Did You Have To Permanently Maim Him? I Spent All That Money On That On That Fancy School For Girls-not To Mention All That Money For The Shrinks-and What Did That Get Me?” I Shrugged. “a Seven-figure Civil Suit?

How Is It That I'd Nearly Been Smothered To Death, And Yet I Could Sit There And Notice Things Like My Stepbrother's Abdominal Muscles A Few Minutes Later?

I Realized Michael Was Right. I Mean, I Am Always Writing In This Journal. And I Do Compose A Lot Of Poetry, And Write A Lot Of Notes And Emails And Stuff. I Mean, I Feel Like I Am Always Writing. I Do It So Much, I Never Even Thought About It As A Talent. It's Just Something I Do All The Time, Like Breathing.

Sometimes Between Lunch And Dinner, When There's A Lull, Jill And Shaniqua And I Will Sit Around And Fantasize About What We'd Do If A Real Celebrity Walked Into The Place, Like Chad Michael Murray (although We've Gone Off Him A Bit Since His Divorce) Or Jared Padalecki, Or Even Prince William (you Never Know. He Could Have Gotten His Yacht Lost, Or Whatever.)