I'm sitting at a vanity table trying to put on my mascara in a hurry - I thought I'd finished all the makeup but when I went out and saw myself in a mirror I hadn't done it, so I'm here - I do a stroke, and get it on my eyelid. Several spots. I rub one, make a smudge; I don't have my stick or Q-Tips, so I frantically look for something to rub with and it doesn't work very well - I can't get the Kleenex to work. I'm panicking. Finally I go out again. [Kelly's around somewhere.] I'm outside with Lorren and some other people - we're getting ready to go somewhere, we're next to a car. I'm gonna try the mascara again. I'm still nervous - I drop the wand, and juggle it, and it ends up stuck between the armhole of my white sweater-vest and my white shirt. I'm thoroughly overwrought now and just collapse in tears. Nobody knows why I'm so depressed but they're cautious. Somebody leaves, I think, and Lorren and I go back inside. There's somebody else here, 2 men. Some other guys come to take us (all) some place but I just can't go. Lorren stays with me.