a muse she may have been — 23 weeks ago
but she is not a writer. She regurgitates names who were at parties but she never really tells a story. She never captures the essence of any moment except maybe doing acid in San Francisco when she says, wow or something similarly inane. And in the end, she whines and whines about how little money she has while she’s telling of her trips around the world. And she claims, of course, that it was really her that both these men really always loved, which I’m thinking, you know, probably not.
