Jennette McCurdy

I’ve been waiting for this moment for two whole weeks, since I first decided what I was going to wish for. The birthday wish is the most power I have in my life right now. It’s my best chance at control. I don’t take this opportunity for granted. I want to make it count.

I don’t like knowing people in the context of things. Oh, that’s the person I work out with. That’s the person I’m in a book club with. That’s the person I did that show with. Because once the context ends, so does the friendship.

The fragility of Mom’s life is the center of mine.

“So what do you say? You want to act? You want to be Mommy’s little actress?”
There’s only one right answer.

Plus, who wants to read a review from someone who takes the time to write a review? Can’t trust ’em, too much time on their hands.

h my God, his voice. It’s my favorite thing about him—quiet and gravelly, probably from his two packs a day, but that’s fine, we can deal with the lung cancer later.

If my weight isn’t enough to get Mom to wake up, then nothing will be. And if nothing can wake her up, then that means she’s really going to die. And if she’s really going to die, what am I supposed to do with myself? My life purpose has always been to make Mom happy, to be who she wants me to be. So without Mom, who am I supposed to be now?

Marcus is so responsible, so reliable. I guess this makes sense since he’s basically an adult—he’s fifteen—but even so, he seems to have a sturdiness to him that I haven’t seen in many other adults around me.

Marcus is so responsible, so reliable. I guess this makes sense since he’s basically an adult—he’s fifteen—but even so, he seems to have a sturdiness to him that I haven’t seen in many other adults around me.

She needed us to be nothing without her.