I'm in a relationship with a well-off divorced man who has a thirteen year old daughter, who spends most of her time in Connecticut with her mother. I met my current beau's daughter this past week and she was very mature for her age. And, for this article, we'll call her Casey. Now, I will admit it has been a while since I was thirteen years old and there are a lot of things I don't remember about it. (Which is a blessing, I think!) However, I'm pretty sure I was as never as, uh, worldly as Casey is at that age. When I first met Casey, she seemed to be a delightful young woman who had a loving relationship with her father. (He gave her this nickname "Bootsie"). I thought she was brave for having to deal with diabetes at such a young age. However, once her father had to leave our little lunch date, I began to see the real side of Casey: buying a pair of boots with the credit card her father gave her for "emergencies only," begging me to go to the opening of a new club. Well, of course I declined at first, after all, she is only 13 years old, but I decided if I watched her with a careful eye and told the bouncers she was with me, it wouldn't be so a big deal. I wouldn't let her stay too long anyway. Boy, that was a huge mistake…

Casey told me she could dress so she looked 21, but instead she ended up looking like a hooker, fifteen years old at the most. Her blonde hair was freshly crimped, she had on goops of make-up and was wearing a MINI mini-leather skirt, fishnet stockings, black stiletto boots, and my favorite: a red tank top with the word SLUT prominently displayed across it in large black letters. Please tell me that not all thirteen year olds dress like this! Because I will no longer have faith in humanity if they do! I almost thought of telling her to go back and change into something more decent, but she almost seemed to be proud of her new look, so who am I to take that away from someone? Once we got into the new club (yes, everyone was looking oddly at Casey, she seemed to think that they were all in awe of her, in fact she whispered to me, "Carrie, this is so dibble!" Apparently dibble means "cool." It's kind of slang word she and her friends came up with).

Once inside the club, Casey proceeded to take out a cigarette and smoke. Now, yes, I admit that I am a smoker, but I am a grown woman who knows the consequences. I certainly do not advocate children smoking, especially those who have diseases. And the way Casey was telling me about all the boyfriends she's had in her 13 years, I don't think diabetes will be the only disease she has to worry about in the near future…When I was 13, I didn't have a boyfriend, let alone a serious ones (and ex-es to boot!) I just had my crushes. I didn't start dating until a few years later. Here are the names I do remember from the list of her ex-boyfriends: Sam, Robert, Ethan, Wes, Toby, Scott, Pierre. I mean, am I prude to think a thirteen year old girl should NOT have this many boyfriends? If I am, times are really changing!

Of course, Casey wanted to have a drink, but the only drink I'd let her have was water or a diet soda. She still ended up making a fool of herself, dancing on the top of the bar and flashing everyone. I guess when she let your daughter get away with anything, she can literally get away with anything.

So to the parents out there raising teenagers or kids who are about to become teenagers, please promise me you'll never let them become like Casey! And if I have any young readers, please promise me you'll never become like Casey. The world has enough Paris Hiltons in-training, we don't need any more.

Oh, and if you're wondering, my relationship with Casey's father is probably not going to last to much longer once he reads this.

I had finished reading Carrie's article as soon as I had polished off my bagel. Was Carrie writing about me? Was I Casey? I had to be, who else would have ex-boyfriends named Sam, Robert, Ethan, Wes, Toby, Scott, and Pierre? (And by the way, CARRIE, Wes, Toby, and Pierre were only crushes, they totally don't count as ex-es!) And she thought I looked like a hooker last night? Me? I looked fabulous and very sophisticated. If anything, she was looking totally stale in her boring black dress. At least I have imagination in the way I dress! Plus, everyone was looking at me! And she's a total hypocrite for saying I shouldn't smoke when she does! And what did she mean that diabetes wouldn't be the only disease I'd have in a few years with all my boyfriends? Doesn't she know that cooties isn't a real disease? Silly, stupid woman. I shook my head and laughed out loud.

Claudia, who was wolfing down her sugar pops across from me, looked up. It was still a bit weird to see her with a hot pink mohawk, but I was slowly starting to get used to it. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied. "Carrie Bradshaw is totally stale, though. She totally wrote about me in her article in a not so flattering way."

"Huh." Claudia paused for a second. "You know, I bet she's just jealous. Think about it: she's pretty old and she's not getting any younger by the second. And you are young and have your whole life ahead of you and you can get any guy you want and we all know how much trouble she has hanging on to a man."

"You're right!" I exclaimed. "How could I not see that? Claudia, you are a genius!"

Claudia's eyes lit up. "I am? Wait until I tell Janine!"

"Carrie is so totally jealous of me," I said. "It makes perfect sense of why she would viciously attack me like that in her article. Plus, I have way more fashion sense than she does."

"Totally," agreed Claudia. "I thought you looked dibbly fresh last night and I would be honored to be in your company anytime, anywhere, whatever you're wearing."

"Thanks, Claud," I replied. "I knew there was a reason you're my BFF."

The only thing Carrie was right about in her article is that she and my dad broke up.