You think you know everything, but there is one mountain that even a babe as blunt as yourself cannot climb: the road to sex with all the straight girls surrounding you. It seems it just isn't going to happen. Still, you allow yourself to have crushes on the women around you, because, hey, who's it going to hurt? Well, when you're home alone, writing poetry while your friends are on dates with permanently teenaged men, you think you start to know. You don't. You learn slowly, and the lessons are hard.
Luckily, your new friend from school is the most awesome girl you've ever met in your life: you affectionately call each other after rodents, share everything and can communicate without speaking; it's that good. There is enough fun to go around, and you and your burgeoning best friend decide to document it in writing using glue, the Weekly World News and Kinko's as your main production elements. You end up making a revolution document called 'It's All Cunt.' The formation of ideas for this takes up most of your time, but at least you are using your overactive imaginations towards good, and not neurosis.
One night, while sitting on her bed having arts and crafts time, you tell her that, hey, you'd be her girlfriend if she wanted you. She looks at you and tells you the same and so begins the time spent convincing yourselves that somehow you can help each other be less emotionally unstable
by dating.
You immediately tell all your gay friends, but still no one gives you any pointers on how to actually have sex. Nevermind, you figure it out yourselves and get a good thing going. She's hot, she's pierced, and she's your punk girlfriend.
Have something really horrible happen while you're on vacation with your family.
Finally reach a happy place and make some pals.