continuing the letters I wrote to my pals at Pizza Island studio in May 2010.
disclaimer: those “off compound” excursions were not at all like what you’re thinking (you’re thinking of that ice cream trip on Girl Interrupted, aren’t you?) The first time I went on one, whenever someone tried to talk to me, I was be like “don’t fucking talk to me!!” and I’d do that thing high schoolers do when they try to hide inside their hoodies. But by the last one we were all singing The Who and Guns N’ Roses and that’s about the most fun anyone’s going to have in rehab without ice cream.