Leah Marie Brown > Quotes

“My mum refers to female genitalia as scones.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“The way she always stared at Leo was kind of disturbing. She twirled a lock of her wavy hair around a finger and batted her long, curly eyelashes at him. Once, in Chem class, Leo’s Chap Stick dropped out of his pocket and rolled across the floor without him noticing. Carrie picked it up. Later, I saw her pop the lid off, sniff it, and then rub it over her lips. She had this weird look on her face, a bit like when Buffalo Bill tossed the bottle of Jergens down to his victim in Silence of the Lambs. I half expected her to moan, “It rubs the Chap Stick on its lips.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“I grossly miscalculated the trajectory of his hotness. He was fat, had three chins, and no neck. And he was bald. He looked like a giant toe.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“An elliptical machine does not excite me as much as a Gothic novel and a chicken chimichanga.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Last week, Nathan left you at the altar. This week, you are a single woman honeymooning in the south of France. If that’s not reclaiming your power, I don’t know what is.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Veni, vidi, vici. That was easy for Julius Caesar to say; he crossed Italy in a chariot, not on a stupid bike." - Vivia”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“If a man can't love you for who you are, he's not worth The Dior Gloss.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Thanks.” “For what?” “For everything.” I shrug and my smile wobbles a little. “Thanks for talking me into taking this trip instead of staying home and wallowing in self-pity. For sticking by my side, but also giving me space. For…being my best friend.” She gives the impression of being cool, clipped, controlled, but deep down Fanny is a smushy-mushy sentimental marshmallow. She grabs me and gives me a fierce hug. “It’s just my time,” she finally says, pulling away. “You know?” I shake my head. I don’t know. “Being best friends is like playing baseball. Right now, it’s my turn to step up to the plate and carry the team.” She lifts her chin and looks up at me with her trademark confidence. “Don’t worry. Your time at bat will come.” “I hope I will carry the team as well as you have.” “You will.” “Wait!” I laugh. “Did you just make a baseball analogy?” “Yeah. So?” “The Americanization of Fanny is complete.” I stroke my chin and chuckle maniacally. “Funny!” Fanny snaps. “I don’t think so!” “It starts with reality television binges and baseball analogies. Soon, you’ll be forgoing French chocolate for Hershey’s bars and baguettes for Wonder Bread.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“This isn’t going to be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Luc’s a lover. He’s going to take it nice and slow. Make me ache for it.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“How could I love a man as uptight as Nathan Edwards and still have a raging crush on someone as wicked as Ronnie Radke? Maybe I am an undiagnosed schizophrenic. That’s what happened to Jamie Foxx’s character in The Soloist. One day, he’s a gifted musical student at Julliard, and the next day he’s toting his cello through the streets of Los Angeles, disoriented and muttering to himself. “What are you thinking, Vivian?” I drop my hand and look at my best friend. “Nothing.” “Vivian?” I grimace. “Do you think I have schizophrenia?” Fanny tosses her pillow at me. “Shut up!”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“My mother named me Vivia Perpetua because she believed naming me after some long-dead, mostly forgotten saint would motivate me to spend my life collecting unused eyeglasses for the blind or doling out mosquito netting to malaria-plagued Africans. Not that there is anything wrong with those efforts, but please." Vivia in Faking It”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“I was grinding away to the climactic moan backtrack when I caught my reflection in the club’s mirror, hips rotating, booty shaking. Years later, Grace described my smooth moves as a sad epileptic white girl’s imitation of a twerk. Harsh. Could anyone look sexy dancing to lyrics that include “Sucky, sucky. Me sucky, sucky”? I don’t think so.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“My bike seat-sodomized ass has me groaning in pain with every pedal.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“If I could have a quart of Haagan Dazs White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle administered to my veins via IV, I swear I would do it.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“By my fifth sip, I am sooooo glad I splurged thirty-five delicious Euros. That’s right math whizzes, the Red Beach set me back over fifty American dollars. Who cares if I have to eat Top Ramen when I get home? I’ll gladly pilfer condiment packages from fast food restaurants to survive if it means I get to sit in ZPlage and sip Red Beaches with anorexic Russian models and their playboy sugar daddies.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Noodly: the act of being noodle-like, as in, Vivia drinks one Red Beach and she feels noodly.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of a broken heart, must be in want of a good laugh.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Glad to know the wreckage of my life is providing ample entertainment for the gawkers. The thing is, it’s not epic or major. It’s miserable. I’ve lost my fiancé, job, home, and now I have an international reputation as the pink-haired hussie who hooked-up with Willie Wonka.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Serendipity works in crazy mysterious ways, doesn’t it? I thought I was going to die when Nathan broke our engagement, now here I am on my honeymoon falling in love with another man.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“I wrote an article once about the color pink. I interviewed Dr. Windfree Bennet, a psychiatrist and New Age Colour Therapist. Dr. Bennet theorized that women who prefer the color pink over other colors are sexually repressed and therefore hypersexual. He said pink does not appear on the color spectrum. It is actually made up of several other colors, including red, which arouses base sexual instincts, and orange, which stimulates internal sexual organs. Who knew I was stimulating my internal sexual organs just by looking at my shirt? All this time I thought I liked the color pink because of some desire to recapture my childhood, when in reality I am just some perv secretly stimulating my internal sexual organs.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“I have an inner Regina George. The manipulative, deceitful, belittling queen bee in the movie Mean Girls talks smack, giving my self-esteem Ray Rice beat downs. Don’t judge. I’ll bet you have an inner Regina George, who makes you feel like crap because of your thighs/boyfriend/job/laugh. We all do. Some are just better at silencing their Reginas before she inflicts real damage. My Regina is telling me I am going to lose my job.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Finding It

“I should probably ask him to stop. I have pink hair, a ridiculous tattoo on my ass, and I smell like the sea. I’m not exactly bringing sexy back.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“Luc unties my bikini top and tosses it aside. A stray breeze blows over my breasts, teasing my already hardened nipples. He stands and hurriedly pulls off his trunks, affording me a snapshot I will carry forever of his tanned naked body. Broad chest. Washboard abs. Big, hard cock.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“I wish I could bottle this moment. I want to remember the way it feels to be lying naked on top of Luc, the Mediterranean breeze kissing my back, the waves rocking us.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It

“How long will I be working the farm?” “Eight days.” Eight days? Shearing sheep and shoveling shit? Is she serious? I guess every assignment can’t be champagne and Boujis.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Finding It

“Dirty Thrills has a crazy cool blues-rock sound with wailing guitar riffs and melt-your-panties vocals. The guitarist looks like Colin Farrell, with sad, love-me-till-it-hurts brown eyes, pouty lips, and a mustache that could tickle a girl in all the right places.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Finding It

“When Aeden told us his band was one of the opening acts for Palaye Royale, an up-and-coming fashion-art rock band out of Las Vegas, and asked if we wanted to “come oot and get ratarsed” I thought Poppy would beg off. Poppy might be cool, but I taxed my vivid imagination trying to envision Miss President of the Swifties getting ratarsed—drunk—at an indie rock concert.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Finding It

“Still glowing with the after-effects of our night of music and alleged moustache-love,”
― Leah Marie Brown, Finding It

“Following Big Boss Lady’s dictate to write about offbeat places in Edinburgh—I found Arkangel and Felon, an eclectic clothing boutique, the Voodoo Rooms, a chic fringe bar with a burlesque show, and Angels with Bagpipes, a bijou wine bar on the Royal Mile.”
― Leah Marie Brown, Finding It

“Vivia Perpetua Grant @PerpetuallyViv @NathanEdwardsIII Returning the engagement ring, keeping the new, hot French lover. Who said breaking up is hard to do? #OverIt”
― Leah Marie Brown, Faking It