“Nothing sexy," interjects Momma, the ever-present buzz skill.”

“(My momma + curvy roads= wear your seat belt.”

“Ricki Jo," Momma says, "who's on the phone? Tell them it's past your bedtime."I cover the receiver and look over my shoulder at my folks. Right. 'Cause a ten o'clock bedtime is something I want to shout from the mountaintops.”

“Now it's just that dishwater blond," my mom continued as she snaps the last roller into place.I get up and kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks, Momma," I say, looking in the mirror over the mantel to check my pink plastic Afro head. Dishwater? Seriously? Way to build the self-esteem before the most important day of my life, I think; but what I say is, "I'm gonna go get ready for bed.”

“He looks like the sexiest idiot I've ever seen.”

“Like,I didn't realize that the sportswriter is actually Mayor Green's son.That makes him the biggest celebrity I've ever met,which I do recognize as totally pathetic.”

“Not "I'm sorry,Ericka," or "I suck," or "I lost all the feeling in my fingers and couldn't dial a telephone." Nothing!I can't believe what I'm hearing.In fact, I can't believe what I'm not hearing.”