My So-Called Life

"Listen, um, could I ask you a question?" "Sure." "It's about risotto."

"You know, the karma in this house is, like, ridiculous." "Really?" "Yeah. It's really low... or dark – whatever it is that happens to karma."

"No, you don't understand. He says 'Gee whiz', and he won't stop with this drama club stuff. He's driving me stark, raving mad!"

"Did she say I was sleeping with Jordan Catalano? She did. I can't believe this. I hate everyone."

"I know you think, how could someone like me understand? Only, I do."

"And now both of you just want to be sure that you both still are friends, which you are, so shut up!"

"Rickie, give us the male perspective." "Don't you love how he leans?"

I tried to be invisible. It's surprisingly possible – you just sit in the back and keep quiet and let the boys shout out the answers. Which they will, even if they're wrong. Boys are less afraid, of being wrong.

"Hey look, if you guys are, like, friends again, you don't have to, like, conceal it or anything, I can take it."

"Jordan Catalano doesn't *go* to school dances. As, like, policy."

"This doesn't seem like a Friday." "It's Thursday." "Oh. Are you sure?" "Yesterday was Wednesday, so... so, that's how I know."

"Right, I live my life to annoy you, Krakow. You're, like, my world."

When someone compliments your parents, there's, like, nothing to say. It's like a stun gun to your brain.

"You should see what they call chili con carne at school. First of all, it's just beans." "Well that's not chili con carne." "I know." "Con carne. With meat." "I know." "I think it's the lack of meat that's destroying America."

If Jordan Catalano is nearby, my entire body knows it. Like one of those dogs that point. I'll keep talking and stuff, but my mind won't even know what I'm saying. I keep wondering if there's a term for this.

"What is holding hands? I don't get it. What are hands? It's not even an erogenous zone."

It was kind of like driving by a horrible car accident. You just had to look.

"What's the magic word?" "Pasta." "No, that's the magic carbohydrate."

"People throwing themselves at people is, like, THE basis of civilization."

"Can you imagine Rickie in a high security prison? Who'd supply his make up?"