On my way to school this morning mom and Amanda Bernstein (don’t forget the fucking B is silent! Amanda screamed) got into a fight, no fists, just tongue lashings and lots of fuck yous and bitch. The couple in the car next to us were making out at a stop light, so mom and Amanda started to make out too. The lady in the Ford saw them and made a pug face. I don’t think she was impressed, or maybe she was disgusted, or had an upset stomache, the shits. Mom screamed at her: Fuck off, you stupid bitch. Even though the window was closed, Amanda wasn’t too pleased, because the lady in the other car was Amanda’s boss and she wasn’t fond of lesbians. Amanda wanted to know if mom loves her. Amanda Bernstein wants to be loved. Amanda said her love is real and said so what and mine is too. Mom said she loves Amanda and that’s a fact, but mom had her finges crossed behind her back. I kept my big mouth shut for once, but laughed. Mom told Amanda that she only wants mom for her body and cigarettes. I don’t know what mom’s talking about, crazy bitch. Who’d want a woman with chicken skin and saggy squishy tits. Mom and I dedicated this day to nudity and the holy trinity–mom, Amanda, and me. They didn’t drop me off at school. You’re not gonna’ learn anything there anyway, they said. Fuck ya’! I thought. We’re gonna’ hang out and tan, drink margaritas in the back yard, mom said. Amanda wasn’t amused, but she joined us anyway. Amanda doesn’t drink but she isn’t about to give mom up without a fight to the death. It’s as if Amanda Bernstein has no self-respect. Or maybe she does. It’s hard to tell when the woman holding your mother’s hand is more of a mother to you than your real mom will ever be. Like I said before, we’ll see how long this lasts. Till then, I’ll keep my toes crossed.