Tatiana Pérez

But oh, how they love the long hair down our backs.

I am no more sexually available—I am no sluttier—in my shortest skirt than I am in my baggiest sweats.

Being a “Senior Washed Up Girl” never looked so drunk.

It’s fun to miss him. And it’s fun to be without him, because it’s fun to be with just me.

When you find something this right, you’ve got to find a way to keep it from going wrong.

I don’t care if you’re on birth control and he’s the captain of the football team, ejaculates gold, and is “definitely STD-free”—USE. A. CONDOM.

I feel this deep, silent energy move through me, following her voice—from my toes up to my head. I’m here. I wonder if my mom is here, too.

You’ve always been encouraged to put your schoolwork/career first.

We want a deep, lasting, passionate, devastating love. We want a Carrie and Mr. Big love.

“Love is when you kiss a girl for the first time and then you know that you’ll never be bored again because you can always just think about kissing her.”

“I don’t judge it but I find it a little weird that guys apparently need to watch porn to get turned on and jerk off.”

If I hadn’t come home—if hadn’t boarded that flight—I never would’ve found him.

I’m going to think about you. And I’m going to miss you. And I’m going to love you until we can be together, for real, again. Anything short of that would be failure—and neither of us are very good at losing.

We’ve long been slaves to that apex of tall, thin, white, blond perfection. That apex we’ve been climbing to since we were old enough to look in the mirror and hate what we saw.

Hip hop lyrics so deep, you’ll think Plato rapped ‘em.

“My boyfriend recently asked if he could put a Skittle in my butt…and then eat it. When I said no, he offered to ‘compromise’ with a Dum Dum.”

I’ll never try to prove how consummately “chill” I am by shotgunning beers or pretending to give a shit about ice hockey. I don’t give a shit about ice hockey. And I hate cheap beer.

“Privilege is beauty.”