Dad! You promised you were gonna stay upstairs! GO!
I wanna be thirty. Thirty and flirty and thriving...
I know you're there... and my parents are totally gonna be home any minute!
I saw his thingy!
Matty! It's Thriller!
Can you hear that, sir? Can you hear the music?
I'll have a Pina Colada, not virgin. Wanna see my ID? Totally have it!
Who are these women? Does anyone know? I don't recognize any of them. I want to see my best friend's big sister, the girls from the soccer team, my next door neighbor, real women who are smart and pretty and happy to be who they are. These are the women to look up to. Let's put life back into the magazine. And fun and laughter and silliness. I think we all - I think all of us - want to feel something that we've forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn't realize how much we were leaving behind. We need to remember what used to be good. If we don't, we won't recognize it even if it hits us between the eyes.
Matt, stop being so nice to me. I don't deserve it. Do you know what kind of person I am now, I mean - do you know who I am right now? I don't have any real friends. I did something bad with a married guy. I don't talk to my mom and dad. I'm not a nice person. And the thing is - I'm not 13 anymore.
You are rude, and mean, and sloppy, and frizzy - and I don't like you at all.
OK, you can wipe the doe-eyed-Bambi-watching-her-mother-get-shot-and-strapped-to-the-back-of-a-van look from your face.
It doesn't matter what Lucy said. I stopped trusting her after she stole my poprocks in the third grade.
You don't always get the dream house, but sometimes you get pretty close, you know?