I can't say that period talk is my favorite bonding arena. But I also think it's sort of funny.
My heart's in the right place. I know, 'cuz I hid it there.
My mother had an amazing life, and she's someone to admire.
For Star Wars, they had me tape down my breasts because there are no breasts in space. I have some. I have two.
Nobody wants to read about a good-looking happy person.
From here on out, there's just reality. I think that's what maturity is: a stoic response to endless reality. But then, what do I know?