She's a Good Girl

My friend Sarah is in a Masters program for Social Work, so on Friday night I went over to her house to help her with a fake counseling session. She was the counselor, and I was Melanie, the pot-smoking high schooler, depressed and ridiculed by her peers. We sat on the couch and chair, and her husband videotaped the session.

I got really into my role, partly because I wanted to, and partly because I have no trouble understanding how someone might feel socially awkward. So I played it really well--well enough that I could feel myself get brighter when I talked about my "poetry" and almost teary when we talked about the people that love me and think that I have a lot to offer. I seriously need to get more involved in drama--not because I'm that good, but because I love it. I love pretending to be someone else.

At work on Friday, I told some of my coworkers about my planned fake therapy. "Pot-smoking high schooler should be a stretch for you," said one of them, completely seriously.

Now that is true, but what IS it about me that makes it seem impossible that I could've smoked pot in high school? It doesn't bug me, really, but the good girl image is completely imprinted on me and I can't get rid of it.

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And now that it's after midnight, it's my brother's 26th birthday. Which is weird, because I clearly remember 26 and it doesn't seem like almost three years ago. Happy b-day, bro.