Princess Mia

Click!

Well. I guess she told me.

And I guess my dream of spending all day Sunday in bed has been crushed.

Mom just poked her head in here. She seems to have gotten over her rage about my spendaholism. She was chewing her lower lip and going, “Mia, I’m sorry. But I had to do it. Do you realize you spent almost as much as the gross national product of a small developing nation…only you spent it on low-rise jeans?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to look sorry. Which wasn’t hard, because I am sorry.

Sorry I never bought jeans like that before. Because I look HOT in them.

Besides, what Mom doesn’t know—Dad either, yet—is that while Lana and Trisha and I were eating, I called Amnesty International and donated the exact amount I spent at Bendel’s, using the emergency black AmEx.

So I don’t even feel guilty. That much.

“I know things are bad right now with Michael, and with you and Lilly,” Mom went on. “And I’m glad you’re trying to make new friends. I’m just not sure Lana Weinberger is the RIGHT friend for you….”

“She’s not that bad, Mom,” I said, thinking of the pony thing. And also the other thing Lana told me over lunch. Which is that her mom told her that if she doesn’t get into an Ivy League college, she’s not going to pay for her to go to college ANYWHERE. Talk about harsh.

“And it’s so unfair,” Lana had said. “Because it’s not like I’m smart, like you are, Mia.”

I’d nearly choked on my wasabi at that one. “Me? Smart?”

“Yeah,” Trisha had added. “AND you’re a princess, which means you’re going to get in everywhere you apply no matter what. Because everyone wants royalty at their school.”

Ouch. Also true.

“Well, Mia,” Mom said, looking dubious—I guess about my remark that Lana Weinberger is not that bad. “I’m happy you’re keeping an open mind and are a little more willing to try new things than you’ve been in the past”—I don’t even know what she could mean by that, unless she’s talking about meat and its by-products—“but remember the Girl Scout rule.”

“You mean that in a good bra, your nipple should fall exactly midway between your shoulder and elbow?”

“Um,” Mom said, looking long-suffering. “No. I meant ‘Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.’”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, right. Don’t worry. I’m going to spend the night at Tina’s now. See ya.”

Then I got out of there. And none too soon, either, because I was really afraid she was going to notice my chandelier earrings, which cost as much as Rocky’s stroller.

Saturday, September 18, 9 p.m., Tina Hakim Baba’s bathroom

I’m really glad I agreed to spend the night at Tina’s. Even though I am still pretty much morbidly depressed, Tina’s house is my third favorite place to be (the first being Michael’s arms, of course, and the second being my bed).

So being at Tina’s isn’t at all excruciating, like being at, say, Bendel’s during a lingerie trunk show.

Although I’ve still told Tina nothing of my current emotional state—like, that I feel as if I’m at the bottom of a hole and can’t find my way out, etc.—she has been more than supportive about my fashion transformation, complimenting my earrings, telling me that my butt looks really good in my new jeans, and even asking me if I’d LOST weight…not gained it!

That, of course, is the result of a fantastically supportive—and also a little bit padded, for extra nipple-erection camouflage—well-fitted bra.

The first thing we did (after we ordered two pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese and ate them) was change all the clocks so that her siblings thought it was bedtime, then put them to bed, ignoring their plaintive protests that they were not tired. They wept themselves to sleep soon enough.

Then we broke out the DVDs and got to work. Tina has composed the following flowchart so we can keep track of Drew Barrymore’s body of work, which, as Tina insists, is important, because one day Drew will be a star along the lines of a Meryl Streep or Dame Judi Dench, and we’ll want to be able to discourse knowledgeably about her oeuvre.

Drew Barrymore:

The Important Works

Curious George

Tina: I never saw this.

Mia: Whatever, it’s for babies!

0 out of 5 gold Drews

Fever Pitch

Tina: Excellent, classic Drew. Plays well off romantic lead, Jimmy Fallon.

Mia: Too much stuff about baseball.

Tina: Well, that’s kind of the point.

3 out of 5 gold Drews

50 First Dates

Tina: Never quite reaches the comic pitch of The Wedding Singer, the last film in which Drew was paired with Adam Sandler.

Mia: Still, funny.

3 out of 5 gold Drews

Duplex

Tina: It pains me that Drew was in this movie.

Mia: I know. It hurts me deep inside. Still, she’s Drew, so…

1 out of 5 gold Drews

Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle

Tina: Awesome, butt-kicking Drew!

Mia: Not sure what all the hand-holding with Lucy Liu and Cameron was about during the press junkets for this film.

Tina: Right. Who holds hands with their girlfriends?

Mia: Except Spencer and Ashley on South of Nowhere, of course. But they’re dating.

Tina: Which is totally different.

Mia: Still.

5 out of 5 gold Drews