Not Your High School Girlfriend

Dispatches from the corner of Hollywood and Motherhood


The Girl, In The Car, In The Movie, Or: When You’re Buying a Kit Kat at 7-Eleven and the Guy On Line Behind You Says, “Hey, did anyone ever tell you, you look just like Ferris Bueller’s girlfriend?”


By Mia Sara

You think you’re unrecognizable
after thirty years in the can;
paint job not so optimistic, upholstery shot,
around, and around, and around the block,
riding shotgun in a cherry red fiberglass daydream,
the girl that never got away, still available on any lap
top. DVD, HBO, AMC, it’s never been easier to turn you on.
You should be grateful, unlike the fringed figment
you were, seventeen, and therefore incapable of gratitude,
to be remembered and re-run, in that unmade state,
before you knew that disappointment was not
the next big break that comes too late, now
the road behind you is longer than the road ahead,
but the joy you failed to take, in the ride.

Mia Sara used to be an actress, but recovered her senses and now she writes. Her work has been published in Superstition Review, Helix, poemmemoirstory, The Summerset Review, PANK, the Write Room, among many others. Her chapbook, Mid-Life With Gorilla was published by Dusie Press, and she had a long running column “Wrought and Found” for PANK Magazine. She lives between New York City and Los Angeles with her husband, Brian Henson, and her children. Read more from Mia at her website.