  Almost Famous is a very good movie. I want to be the female version of Cameron Crowe. Except I don’t want to write for Rolling Stones, and I don’t want to loose my virginity is a hotel room orgy.
Really, though, there is an ever-looming sense of the future when you’re fifteen that you can’t really ignore. Someday I am going to have to get a job, someday I will have to pay rent and buy my own groceries. I’ll wake up one morning and find out that my new residence is the real, real world. There’s no question of that certainty. The question lies in what I am going to make of it. I had two very, very vivid dreams last night.
In the first one, I was shopping at a thrift store. And one of the Russian girls I tutor was there. I gave her a dress to try on. She was very happy, and she didn’t yell at me like she does in class. In the second dream, I was babysitting for this family. And the mother told me I could never baby-sit again. I started to cry, but I felt like a liar because I wasn’t sad at all. And the father hugged me and said he wished I could still work for them, except his wife was crazy.
And that made me cry even harder. So I stole their daughter when they weren’t looking. But their baby son, I left him. Tomorrow is thanksgiving. My family will yell, and then we will sit and eat and pretend no one was ever mad. Affectionately… Anna P.S--- Why did Ben Kweller have to up and get married? Such a travesty... 
