Ashley gets into the stash of Red Bull and discovers that 5 Red Bulls renders her instantly hysterical.  She's zooming all around the room, begging Theo to say something funny.  Theo refuses, because he loves to deny any woman.  She dances with Señor Sanchez, she gathers all the girls in the backyard to write the names of bad ex boyfriends and burn them on the grill in some kind of exorcism ritual.  Dottie the neighbor comes out and yells at them all and Matt drags Ash inside.  She's laughing, she's making everyone else laugh.  I bet she's happy.   I'm happy!  I'm ecstatic, dammit!

And then I glance at myself in the mirror and my first thought is: Who is that sad sad girl sitting on the couch?  It's me.  I am that type of chick.  I am exactly that type of chick, I'm the one sitting on the couch looking depressed because my boyfriend isn't with me.  But wait, I'm not that type of chick because I know if he was, I'd be worried, not happy.  So what's the solution?   Spend all my time with him and suffocate.  Spend time away from him and wish he was there.

These are my choices?  Why isn't it more clear cut which one will bring more than two seconds of happy?

Later, Matt packs me up in Ashley's car and she zooms back up the 405, singing at the top of her lungs, "Hooray for Hollywood!  We're going down to Hollywood!"  Ashley's happy.  Damn her.