There I was. Home alone. Sick. On a Saturday. What was I going to do? I didn’t feel like going out anywhere. I didn’t feel like getting off the sofa. I didn’t even feel like talking on the telephone. I picked up the remote. And there it was: Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen. My niece wouldn’t go see it with me when it was at the theater, my then-girlfriend either. (There is more than one reason she is my ex.) So I watched.
Can I just say that I love Lindsay Lohan? I seriously do. This movie cracked me up.
I was a Teenage Drama Queen who morphed into a Twenty-Something Drama Queen and continued on to be a Thirty-Something Drama Queen. Okay, so the drama changes as you get older and there is less lying about whether your father died and how to … well, dramatics, but you get the idea. Now that I am in my 40s, I’m still dramatic but I think not a Drama Queen. More the Queen Mum, now. Leaving the true drama to the young ‘uns.
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