My ex-roommate Amanda hated Lorraine Bracco with the passion of a thousand suns. It was Hackers that really cinched it up for Lorraine in Amanda's mind, but she wasn't too wild about her role in Goodfellas either.
All Lorraine aside, it made me think. The movie's about this lady named Beverly Donofrio and her pregnancy at 15 in 1968. She ends up marrying a junkie after getting pressure from her father and then all sorts of poverty and there's trouble and yadda yadda. It more or less works out at the end, though. And it's got that hot Australian guy from Coyote Ugly.
This movie describes something close to my perfect nightmare. In the beginning, the thing that terrified me most about sex was getting pregnant. Maybe it was a backwards order, because I wasn't terrified of rape or AIDS or anything like that. Just getting pregnant. Because sex ed for girls in this country indoctrinates you with the following pearl of wisdom: If you have sex, you will get pregnant. Period. Fin. The end. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Or at least that was my take on the thing.
This girl Katherine that I used to work with at the convenience store was pregnant when I started working with her. She was only 10 days older than me. The father was an abusive drug addict, which was a whole other situation, but I went to visit her about a week after the baby was born and her entire apartment was thrashed. There was shit everywhere, laundry half-folded in the basket, food laid out all over the counter, toys all over the floor. There were no open surfaces. Not a one. She fell asleep when she gave me the baby to hold.
Visiting an apartment like this should be a mandatory part of any high school health class. Seeing the horror of teen pregnancy up close would be pretty effective, I think.
But who knows? I could be wrong.