Blair looks around for Zappa, who is supposed to pick her up in a few minutes. "I want to wrap this up, because I keep talking and I'm manic and it's making me sick," she says. She looks down at the ground, lets out a nervous giggle. "I hope you're one of the ones that gets me a little bit. I want you to like me so that when I read this I don't get sad and drink too much that night. Some people believe everything I'm saying. I mean, there's truth to it. It's not like I'm a liar. But it makes me laugh. I'm fun, right? I'm superfun! Would you pay money to see me in a movie now?"
Yes, we say—because she obviously could stand to hear it but also because it is the truth. We gladly would.
And, in a minute, after a quick hug, Blair has skipped off, her one-eyed dog tucked under her arm, and suddenly the park seems quiet and dull.