First, let me admit I am jealous. I would love to be so smart and talented that people wanted to invest their time, energy, and money in me despite my lack of concern or regard for them. I am jealous that I don’t have the courage or privilege to live free from life’s silly constraints – responsibility, respect for others, plates! – and that my time is spent trying to keep Joe Schmo commitments to work, family and friends while the really special girls are laying around in the bathtub, watching TMZ and treating each day like the cheap trash it really is. I’m jealous that I spend holidays with lame real people instead of Courtney Love (because that is how special some people are) and I will never be lucky enough to rake in the cash for being so refreshingly self-aware about what, like, a mess I am.