Gaby Dunn

You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.

Look, kids in the suburbs. I get it. There’s not a whole lot to do other than invent new ways to get messed up. I was a teenage “rebel” once. My sister and her friends used to pound Red Bull and have “hyper parties.” I had a guy friend who used to try and smoke banana peels. One time, I attempted to get drunk off my dad’s O’Douls.

A fun thing to do if you’re bored is include Billy Zane’s name in popular songs. “Billy Zane is in my ear and in my eyes” or “Billy Zane is not my lover!” You’re welcome.

There were no high expectations in danger of being deflated after seeing Jason Biggs put his dong in a pastry. That day, I became a realist.

My best friends have always changed over time. There was Madison in second grade. I helped her plaster her bedroom walls in ‘Teen Beat’ Jonathan Taylor Thomas posters. She and I lost touch when I changed schools. Then, there was Matthew in fourth grade.

She’s got long blond hair and curves and when she walks into a room, men act like a literal bomb’s gone off. One time, our mom scolded me by asking, “You know how Tina Fey is beautiful when she’s Tina Fey and not as beautiful when she’s Liz Lemon? Why do you insist on Liz Lemon-ing yourself?” Direct quote.