Are you honestly trying to tell me to read a book about a sorority? Are you okay? Is Babette back? I’m scared for you.
Get well soon,
I get it. I totally get it. But I’m not Babette, I’m not sick and I’m not out of my mind. I’m just having a moment on my journey of self discovery.
Everyone knows that I’m not huge on being supportive of others and their art. But today I’m taking a leap of faith, a trust fall, a cosmic chance. I honestly have no idea why today is different, but I do know that I this book is fucking HILARIOUS.
It’s not about a sorority. It’s about a girl who, not unlike me, has been dealt a shitty hand in life and who perseveres through it all to rise like a Phoenix from the ashes…
Taylor Bell used to intern for me and maybe she just learned how to be hilarious from watching little old me all day. I don’t know how she got so talented, but she is. I haven’t ever laughed at any book I’ve ever read, ever. Not even my own books are funny to me. But Dirty Rush is very LOL.
If I’m being completely honest, I feel like maybe Taylor should be giving me a little more credit than she is for how good this book is. I mean she did sit in my office and watch me write my last book for an entire summer, so maybe I should be getting a royalty.
Also, Taylor was in my office the day that Miley Cyrus came over for a so I feel like I should at least get some credit for the dedication pictured above. Right?
If you haven’t read this book, then you should. You won’t be sorry. It’s MAY-JOR. Trust. I included a little sample from the book so you can see for yourself. Then go buy the fucking thing.
I’d only done cocaine once before, on New Year’s with Jonah and our friend Beth from back home, and thought it was medium fun but I never really got it. It basically just made me want to smoke cigarettes (which I don’t ever want to do) and talk about my family (which I also don’t ever want to do).
“Look who it is,” Meg said as I sat down in an empty chair next to the couch.
“So this is where you’ve been?” I said.
“Want some coke?”
For some reason I wanted to do something “bad” tonight, so I obliged.
“Sure!” I said, the enthusiasm in my tone was surprising even to me, “Why not?”
Meg handed me a small plastic baggie of white powder and her set of sorority house keys on a sparkly silver BZ keychain. She motioned that I ought to dip the key into the bag, like a shovel, and then put it up to my nostril and inhale. She did this silently so as not to embarrass me in front of everyone, which I appreciated. I took a couple of sniffs, or rather “bumps,” and passed it back to her; then the baggie went around the circle and then back to me. This went on for the next twenty minutes or so. I honestly didn’t know how much coke to do, so I just kept partaking.
I ended up doing too much.
“So, like, the weirdest thing to me, Meg, is that, honestly, I think you’re kind of an awesome person. And I’d like to think that you think I’m awesome too?”
“No, I, like, totally agree.”
“You agree that you’re an awesome person or that I’m an awesome person?” I lit a cigarette and inhaled. It tasted deli- cious.
“No, bitch! I agree that you’re an awesome person and I’m, like, so glad that we finally met each other.”
“Oh, good, good. Me too. Do you want a drag?” I handed her the Marlboro Light.
Meg took a long drag and looked around the balcony, sur- veying the scene. Everyone had gone back in the house, so Meg and I shared the couch and the cigarette.
“I never wanted to be in a sorority,” I blurted out. “I know, babe.”
“I still kind of don’t.”
“I know, babe.”
“Is that bad to say?”
“No, not at all. You think I don’t fucking know that about you? You’re different.”
“I know you didn’t mean that as a compliment, but I’m gonna take it as a compliment because I think that’s actually, like, a really nice thing to say to someone.”
“But sometimes we can see BZ qualities in a girl before she can see them in herself,” Meg said. “We knew that we needed to continue the legacy and when we saw you and talked to you we just went in. We went in hard because we had to have you. It’s actually really fucking simple.”
“And I really appreciate that you guys did that, and I totally get why, but honestly I don’t know what to do.”
“Obviously you don’t know what to do. You just got to col- lege, there are forty million decisions to be made. It can be over- whelming. I’m overwhelmed by how overwhelming it must be for you.”
“Exactly. You get it.”
“I do,” Meg said, putting out the cigarette.
“I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I’m so glad I met you guys. Like, literally, I don’t know what I’d do for friends if I hadn’t come to that first party. Like, I want you guys to be my friends, you know.” I could hear myself speaking but I had no control over what I was saying. And I felt fantastic.
“Duh, I know. And let me tell you what will happen if you don’t rush: You’ll eventually meet a fat friend, a half-Jewish/ half-Asian friend, and you’ll end up dating a guy named Topher who is too short for you.”
“No, you’re probably right.”
“I know. You look hot tonight.” “So do you.”
“We should probably go inside.”
We stood up, dusted off any couch crumbs that may have stuck to our dresses, tousled our hair, and stomped our way back into the party. We may have been fucked up, but I felt spec- tacular and told myself to try to remember this moment because it was one of the best nights at college yet. Possibly one of the best nights of my life. Period.