It's Saturday morning, and I'm reading Elizabeth Wurtzel.

This book is so, so funny to me right now. Her grandiose self-absorption, her delusions and manic riffs. It is perhaps not acceptable to say that bipolar disorder and addiction are comic topics...but I've been there, so somehow it's real..though, of course, didn't have her resources.

Human dread, raised to the next level...yes. And somehow, because she is so ridiculous, when she gets arrested and panics about not getting to take her Ritalin and read a magazine in the cell...it becomes divine. Because, really, I would be terrified, too, especially if denied my medication for a prolonged period of time. Seizures are not cute, nor are they pleasant.

Reviews of this book

It gets a bit annoying after a point, by about page 125...yes, that's the point I'm at now. But, hey.