Julia Roberts Monologues

You know, I never wanted to be a mom. Sharing it with you... that's one thing. It's another to be looking over my shoulder for the next twenty years, knowing someone else would have done it better... someone else would have done it right.

You're Mother Earth, incarnate.

You ride with Anna.

You know every story, every wound, every memory. Their whole life's happiness is wrapped up in you... every single second. Don't you get it? Look down the road to her wedding. I'm in a room alone with her, fixing her veil, fluffing her dress, telling her no woman has ever looked so beautiful. And my fear is she'll be thinking, "I wish my mom was here."

It's not that I can't cook, I choose not to cook.

I am so unbelievably sick of your imperious bullshit. I never said I was June-fucking-Clever...

...and if every time life hits her hard you want to have a twelve hour conversation every third Tuesday of the month, go right ahead, lady, I have a life.

Maybe the problem here is your daughter, and that she is a spoiled, wise-ass little brat.

Are you sure? I didn't see that on the schedule.

Ben? Ben? Ben. Get up, get up, get up. Late, late, late. Ben? Come on, honey. Get up. We're seriously late.

All right, you may think this is funny but this is so not…

funny. I'm not kidding around anymore, Ben. You make yourself appear right this instant. Ben? Ben? The clock is ticking, Ben. Come on now. Ben?

If you meet me back here in 1 hour, I will prove to you why you hired me... even though I wouldn't sleep with you

Well, um, seeing as how I have no brains or legal expertise, and Ed here was losing all faith in the system, am I right?

I just went out there and performed sexual favors. Six hundred and thirty-four blow jobs in five days... I'm really quite tired.

Oh see, now that pisses me off. First of all, since the demur we have more than 400 plaintiffs and... let's be honest, we all know there are more out there. They may not be the most sophisticated people but they do know how to divide and $20 million isn't *shit* when you split it between them. Second of all, these people don't dream about being rich. They dream about being able to watch their kids swim in a pool without worrying that they'll have to have a hysterectomy at the age of *twenty*. Like Rosa Diaz, a client of ours. Or have their spine deteriorate, like Stan Blume, *another* client of ours. So before you come back here with another lame ass offer, I want you to think real hard about what your spine is worth, Mr. Walker. Or what you might expect someone to pay you for your uterus, Ms. Sanchez. Then you take out your calculator and you multiply that number by a hundred. Anything less than that is a waste of our time.

By the way, we had that water brought in specially for you folks. Came from a well in Hinkley.

Oh, I got numbers comin' outta my ears. For instance: ten.

Yeah. That's how many months old my baby girl is.

Yeah. Yeah, sexy, huh? How 'bout this for a number? Six. That's how old my other daughter is, eight is the age of my son, two is how many times I've been married - and divorced; sixteen is the number of dollars I have in my bank account. 850-3943. That's my phone number, and with all the numbers I gave you, I'm guessing zero is the number of times you're gonna call it.

That's all you got, lady. Two wrong feet in fucking ugly shoes.

Ya know why everyone thinks that all lawyers are backstabbing, bloodsucking scumbags? 'Cause they are! And I cannot believe you expect me to go out, leave my kids with strangers and get people to trust you with their lives while all the while you're screwing me! You know, Ed, it's not about the number! It's about the way my work is valued in this firm, it's the…

Annabelle Daniels: 714-454-9346. 10 years old, 11 in May. Lived on the plume since birth. Wanted to be a synchronized swimmer so she spent every minute she could in the PG&E pool. She had a tumor in her brain stem detected last November, an operation on Thanksgiving, shrunk it with radiation after that. Her parents are Ted & Rita. Ted's got Crohn's disease, Rita has chronic headaches, and nausea, and underwent a hysterectomy last fall. Ted grew up in Hinkley. His brother Robbie, and his wife May and their five children: Robbie Jr, Martha, Ed, Rose & Peter also lived on the plume. Their number is 454-9554. You want their diseases?

Bite my ass, Krispy Kreme!

Now, I'm smart, I'm hard-working and I'll do anything… and I'm not leaving here without a job.

Don't make me beg. If it doesn't work out, fire me... But don't make me beg!

Hey Scott, tell me something. Does PG&E pay you to cover their ass, or do you just do it out of the kindness of your heart?

The fuck you don't! Nobody calls me Pattee. That heavy-breathing sicko that called the other night could have only found out about me from you. People are dying, Scott, you've got document after document here telling you why, and you haven't said one word. I wanna know... How the hell you sleep at night?

I was pulling out real slow, and out of nowhere his Jaguar comes racing around the corner like a bat outta hell...

They took some bone from my hip and put it in my neck; I didn't have insurance so I'm about $17,000 in debt right now.

I couldn't take painkillers 'cause they made me too groggy to take care of my kids...

Matthew's eight, Katie's almost six and Beth's just nine months…

I just wanna be a good mom, a nice person, a decent citizen. Just wanna take good care of my kids. You know?

I don't need pity, I need a paycheck. And I've looked. But when you've spent the past six years raising babies it's real hard to find somebody who pays worth a damn, are ya getting every word of this down, honey, or am I talking too fast?

For the first time in my life, I got people respecting me. Please, don't ask me to give it up.

Well as long as I have one ass instead of two I'll wear what I like if that's all right with you. You might want to re-think those ties.

NO, no… I hate lawyers. I only work for them.

Bullshit! You're trying to feel less guilty about firing someone with three kids to feed! Well, fuck if I'll help you do that!

Look, I don't know shit about shit but I know right from wrong!

Isn't it funny how some people go out of their way to help others, when others just fire them?

Oh, and why the hell would you assume that?

Oh, so by that standard I should assume that you never get laid.

Do you want to know? Then you'll have to hire me back. I've got a ton of bills to pay.

I've been working, that is all I have been doing, what am I supposed to do check in with you every two seconds?

I'm not talking to you, bitch!

Get out of my face!

Are you going to be something else that I have to survive? Because... to tell you the truth... I'm not up to it.

I'm sorry. I just don't see why you're corresponding with PG&E about your medical problems in the first place.

Bullshit. If you had a full staff, this office would return a client's damn phone calls.

Oh, you fucking piece of CRAP with no signal!

Not personal? That is my work! My sweat! My time away from my kids! If that's not personal, I don't know what is.

I gave the whole town a blow job.

Mama, I don't know why you have to make everything so difficult. I look at having a baby as the opportunity of a lifetime. Sure there may be risk involved, but that's true for anybody. But you get through it and life goes on. And when it's all said and done there will be a little piece of immortality with Jackson's good looks and my sense of style, I hope. Please, please I need your support. I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.

Would it be too much to ask for a little excitement, not too much I wouldn't want you to break a sweat or anything. It's in July. Oh Mama, you have to help me plan. We're gonna get a new house. Jackson and I are going house hunting next week. Jackson loves to hunt for anything.

He's so excited. He says he doesn't care whether it's a boy or a girl, but I know he really wants a son so bad he can taste it. He's really cute about the whole thing. It's all he can talk about: Jackson Latree, Jr.

You know what you need in here, Truvy. You need a radio. Music is a wonderful thing to have in the background and it takes the pressure off of people who feel they *have to talk so much.*

He painted what he felt, not what he saw. People didn't understand, to them it seemed childlike and crude. It took years for them to recognize his actual technique. To see the way his brush strokes seemed to make the night sky move. Yet, he never sold a painting in his lifetime. This is his self-portrait. There's no camouflage, no romance. Honesty. Now, sixty years later, where is he?

So famous, in fact, that everybody has a reproduction. There are post cards…

...you go. With the ability to reproduce art, it is available to the masses. No one needs to own a van Gogh original, they can paint their own. Van Gogh in a box, ladies! The newest form of mass-distributed art; paint by numbers.

Ironic, isn't it? Look at what we have done to the man who refused to conform his ideals to popular taste. Who refused to compromise his integrity. We have put him in a tiny box and asked you to copy him.

No, some of them accept late admissions! Now, I was upset at first, I can tell you that. When Tommy came to me at the dance and told me he was accepted to Penn, I thought, 'Oh God, her fate is sealed! She's worked so hard, how can she throw it all away?' But then I realized you won't have to! You can bake your cake and eat it too! It's just wonderful!

Quiet. Today you just listen. What will future scholars see when they study us, a portrait of women today? There you are ladies: the perfect likeness of a Wellesley graduate, Magna Cum Laude, doing exactly what she was trained to do. Slide - a Rhodes Scholar, I wonder if she recites Chaucer while she presses her husband's shirts. Slide - hehe, now you physics majors can calculate the mass and volume of every meatloaf you make. Slide - A girdle to set you free. What does that mean? What does that mean? What does it mean? I give up, you win. The smartest women in the country, I didn't realize that by demanding excellence I would be challenging... what did it say?

In the end, I've come to believe in something I call "The Physics of the Quest." A force in nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity. The rule of Quest Physics goes something like this: If you're brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting, which can be anything from your house to bitter, old resentments, and set out on a truth-seeking journey, either externally or internally, and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you.

Dear friends and loved ones: My birthday's coming up soon. If I were home, I'd be planning a stupid, expensive birthday party and you'd all be buying me gifts and bottles of wine. A cheaper, more lovely way to celebrate would be to make a donation to help a healer named Wayan Nuriyasih buy a house in Indonesia. She's a single mother. ln Bali, after a divorce, a woman gets nothing, not even her children. To gain custody of her daughter, Tutti, Wayan had to sell everything, even her bath mat, to pay for a lawyer. For years, they've moved from place to place. Each time, Wayan loses clientele and Tutti has to change schools. This little group of people in Bali have become my family. And we must take care of our families, wherever we find them. Today l saw Tutti playing with a blue tile she'd found in the road near a hotel construction site. She told me: Maybe if we have a house someday, it can have a pretty blue floor like this. When I was in Italy, I learned a word - It's "tutti" with double T, which in ltalian means "everybody." So that's the lesson, isn't it? When you set out in the world to help yourself, sometimes you end up helping Tutti.

Hadn't I wanted this? I had actively participated in every moment of the creation of this life. So why didn't I see myself in any of it? The only thing more impossible than staying… was leaving. I didn't want to hurt anybody, I wanted to slip quietly out the back door and not stop running until I reached Greenland.

When I was a little girl… my momma used to lock me in the attic when I was bad, which was pretty often… and I would… I would pretend I was a princess trapped in a tower by a wicked queen. Then suddenly, a knight on a white horse with colors flying would come charging up and draw his sword… and I would wave… and he would climb up the tower, and rescue me. (pause) But never… in all the times that I had this dream did the knight say to me, 'Come on baby, I'll put you up in a great condo.

Did I mention, my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe. So basically we are talking about 88 inches of therapy wrapped around you for the bargain price of three thousand dollars.

I appreciate this whole seduction thing you've got going on here, but let me give you a tip: I'm a sure thing.

I got red, I got green, I got yellow... I'm out of purple, but I do have one Gold Circle coin left... the condom of champions... the one and only... nothin' is gettin' through this sucker. Whaddya say, hmm?