ok.
you know that moment, at the party-you-didn't-want-to-come-to, filled with the important-people-from-work-who-don't-really-like-you, standing in the corner-of-the apartment-marked-specifically-for-losers-and-the-apartment-cat (who is now drunk and stuffed on mini shrimp popper appetizers)? the moment where you realize that you didn't wear the right shoes, your dress is being worn as a shirt by the most beautiful woman in the room, and everyone in the entire WORLD is staring at you when they are not too busy rubbing elbows, sucking up, or have just plain finished judging everyone closest too them and have run out of material?
yeah, that moment.
i've never been addicted to cocaine, so i can't really review what i don't know. but let's be honest. it sounded... AWESOME. carrie fisher, i didn't think standing around being stoned in "the empire strikes back" was going to prepare you for anything later in life, because that's what they taught us in DARE. but apparently it prepared you to be super observant, hilariosly witty, and amazingly devious in your vary-ing writing styles (vary-ing? what? can my editor get on that spelling please? thnx)
i was amused throughout, an impressive feat because the only thing more boring than reading about people doing drugs, making bad decisions, having disgustingly casual sex, and laying around gorging themselves in self pity is watching it. (eg scorpio rising. the entire film).
anyway, back to that "moment". i was amused throughout because i spent most of "throughout" thinking, oh shit, i've done that. i've thought that. i've said that exact thing, out loud, in front of a bunch of people who probably shouldn't have heard it. no matter how different the characters are from you, their stream-of-concious honesty taps those inner demons we try so very hard to keep under wraps. judgemental, annoyed, impatient, self doubting, and insecure, we've all stood in the corner of the room with the drunk housepet and simultaneously worried about our hair while berating the host for her absyminal choice in cutlery. and we don't feel bad about it either.
maybe we DO need another therapy session for this, but hell, we like your writing, ms. fisher, and we don't intend to stop reading soon.
("we"? as in plural? as in when did this review jump from me to we? can i get an editor on that? thnx)