Now her mom is sitting in the snow. This should technically be prohibitively uncomfortable, even with her mom’s Moncler parka, which Lizzie is likely to steal. Breath and smoke rise as wraiths, degenerate. Lizzie is trying to observe the look on her mother’s face, because she’s noticed that it changes. She’s made some notes on this fact in her diary, about how her mother looks so much younger sometimes now, about how she looks kind of worried, too, but not exactly worried. It’s difficult to explain.

Lizzie has seen the movie Titanic three times now. Once really stoned, once sober, and one time kind of stoned, plus hungover. She feels there is this instructive continuum between Billy Zane and Leonardo DiCaprio, both of whom are obviously gay in real life but whatever. Leonardo is really nice the whole movie long, and he’s sexy, but there’s nothing quite as sexy as when Billy Zane is near the lifeboats being evil. The look on Billy Zane’s face when he is near the lifeboats, Lizzie can’t quite explain, but it is like the epitome of sex. So, therefore, what Titanic teaches you is that the best person to try to get to fall in love with you is someone who is somewhat outside of your natural social group. When you find this person, this gives you a lot of power. Then people who are within your social group (the Billy Zane character, for example, in the case of the Kate Winslet character) have to give you a lot more respect, because they recognize that you don’t depend exclusively on your born social group to give your life meaning. You know how to have adventures. It’s very American to be like this, which is why Titanic is one of the powerful movies of all time right now, being that they have come to the end of the greatest American century and now it’s apparently time to set fire to a certain mostly non-Christian sector of the planet.