Quotes from Jody Gehrman

I despise the rituals of fake friendship. I wish we could just claw each other's eyes out and call it a day; instead we put on huge radiant smiles and spout compliments until our teeth hurt from the saccharine sweetness of it all.

Are you mad?" I ask. "I was." He glances at the ceiling then back at me. "Or confused, anyway. The whole thing threw me through for a loop. I thought I'd finally met a guy at Underwood I could relate to, and it turns out he wasn't a guy at all." I swallow. "I can see how that would be weird." "In a way though, I was relieved." "Relieved?" I echo. "Why?" He looks around embarrased. "Let's just say you had me questioning my sexual orientation.

If he's just not into you anymore, then buy yourself a cute pair of shoes and strut your fabulousness elsewhere.

I tried all kinds of approaches: sexy, friendly, intimidating—nothing worked. I'm starting to think there's an invisible force field that prevents honest communication between X and Y chromosomes.

I guess sometimes it takes a while for the heart to get the memo from the brain.

I actually plan to mess up my life and start over every seven years. That way, I'll never get in a rut. I read somewhere that most of your cells only live about seven years anyway, so in theory you literally are a new person; I figure that's the best time to start over.

The point is, feelings can change - and often do - abruptly. It's one of the riskiest aspects of falling for someone, especially during these tumultuous years when we're young and restless.

She has ESB," I say. Chloe rolls her eyes. "ESP you mean?" "No, ESB. Extrasensory Bitchyness.

Supposedly, guys think about sex every eight seconds. If that's true, how can they talk to their grandmothers?

I think that everyone should have at least a part of them that's self-invented; in fact, the world would be much more interesting if we all created our own identities afresh whenever we felt like it. Otherwise you're just walking around regurgitating what's expected, which is like, why bother?

These guys may not talk too much about relationships, but they sure do blush at telling moments, don't they? Maybe that's the key to understanding the opposite sex; I could invent a science, call it blushology.

This party is turning out to be the turd-encrusted cherry on the top of my shit-shake of a day.

Sometimes, a girl just has to dive under the duvet and regroup.

I have to say it's the most sizzling, delicious, sublime kiss ever. In the history of human beings. Possibly back to and including dinosaurs.

Maybe illusion and artifice—lies, even—are a necessary part of romance.

All of us have our wires crossed and crisscrossed so many times it's impossible to untangle the mess. It really does seem like the entire human race might as well be conversing with hand gestures and grunts, for all the success we're having.

Art boy is obviously intimidated. You're like the sun and he's squinting up at you, barely able to see because of your blinking radiance

POKSI (Physically Okay but Socially Inept)

Suddenly, the gods have stopped saying yes and have started making really obnoxious farting noises. In my face. With their armpits.

Here I've been telling him things in my head for weeks, writing long, frenzied missives to him I know I'll never send, and now that I have him less than two feet away, I'm struck dumb. Fantastic.

July 4th, (ie, time to celebrate our freedoms as Americans by eating hormone-laden farm animals and blowing shit up) -Geena (Triple Shot Betty)

I sometimes suspect they don't take Dr. Aphrodite very seriously. Which is sad, really. Because what's more serious than love?

Think of it as a life experience," I mumbled. "Isn't your dad always saying we need more of that?" "I don't think prancing around PJ Jamieson's pool in our underwear is exactly what he had in mind.

The right song can change everything.