At one point I decided Calvin Klein “Heroin Chic” was cool so now I’m basically living as a working lower class waitress, who drags her landlord into the house off the front stoop every night he drinks too much Philips. If I wasn’t constantly soaked in fryer grease from working, I don’t know what I’d be doing since it’s pretty much my life. Nothing about the way I live is chic. I’ve already violated pretty much all of Do’s/Don’ts too: I tan, I’m living with my American DJ boyfriend, I work 6 days a week starting at 5am and I once wanted a Blackberry.
Babe, I’m only 20. You can’t seriously tell me that I can’t turn this all around, because I’ll be damned if my memoir doesn’t get published.
You are so, so drunk. Get it [your shit] together. Write me back. We can talk then.