Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen Page #2

Gated, dull, Armani-ridden.

You know, I'm the kind of

riffraff they try to keep out.

When Stu Wolff sings,

"There's something in me

that always wants more.

More moons and stars

and music in the wind,"

it's as though

he's just talking to me.

I like Steve.

I bet Stu is hard

to get along with.

You can tell he's sort of moody.

Haunted.

All true geniuses are haunted.

It's part of what they have to

suffer for their art.

Popovers, ladies.

Wow.

This is just like eating

in a diner. Thank you.

Well, surely you have

popovers at home.

I just popped them

in the microwave.

My mother doesn't approve

of microwaves.

She has very strong opinions.

I've never heard

of anyone taking a stance

on an appliance before.

Why doesn't your mother like me?

She likes you.

She just thinks you're

a little strange.

I mean, you are, a little.

Lola!

Lola, I'm sorry!

It's really your mother

she thinks is strange.

My mom saw your mother

in the supermarket

wearing dirty overalls

with chopsticks in her hair

and arguing with the butcher.

It's not important.

Not important?

She's the woman

who gave me life.

Whose milk fed my fragile body.

Whose blood flows

through my veins.

Of course it's important.

My parents are square.

Neither of them is too happy

about the fact

that your mother has three

children and no husband.

Single motherhood

is a transitory state.

Karen used to be married.

It could happen again.

But I thought you said

you were a love child.

Well, I was a love child.

Mom and Dad were married

and passionately in love.

My parents were mad for each

other as soon as their eyes met.

Dad was like a rock star.

Mom was a babe.

The rest was destiny.

They got married.

And then they camped in the

desert and counted the stars.

One million and three.

One million and four.

Jeez. My parents went

on a cruise to Bermuda,

but they were afraid

to get off the boat.

Mine were in love.

Deeply, movingly.

The only thing that could have

made their lives better

was having me.

Even as an infant

I aspired to have a relationship

just like theirs.

And then the twins

were conceived,

and we couldn't have been

more thrilled.

Upon hearing the news,

my father mounted

his really cool motorcycle

to buy the mother of his child

and future children

her favorite flowers.

Suddenly...

Aah!

They found him strewn

across 9th Avenue.

And 10th.

Lola, I'm so sorry.

I had no idea.

Ironic, isn't it?

Your parents think my mother

is the destroyer

of our social order.

She's merely a victim of fate.

What?

Nothing.

I like the chopsticks

in your hair.

Because Carla Santini

thinks she's Julia Roberts

and the universe is interested

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