Dear Diary,
I remember when I was a little girl dreaming of what it might be like someday to be a literary agent. And I thought it would be just like tonight: hobnobbing at a gallery opening, being whisked off to dinner to a private room in a five star restaurant, the table filled with rock stars, clothing designers, photographers, producers, heirs to fortunes, and hedge fund managers. The conversation ranging from real estate to bestiality, Avatar to frequent flier mileage.
And I always imagined that when the night was over and my yellow pumpkin had delivered me to my office, I would be back amid the piles of manuscripts, letters, and contracts. And that into the late, quiet night, I would write my long editorial letters. And that I would grow old among books and writers. And that I would be happy.
Love, Betsy
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Betsy Lerner 
Be happy, princess. Your dream has come true. We love you.
A good life, I agree.
Sounds like a very nice evening Betsy. And a sweet dream. Oh Betsy… You’re going to make us all cry…
These are the days when you think, just maybe, you’ll get your own happily ever after.
We are two peas in a pod.
First I stripped the urine-soaked sheets from my son’s bed, then I dropped him at preschool to learn that there’s an outbreak of hoof-and-mouth disease. Then I perpetrated 1,000 words, careful to use each of the following at least twice:
1) ‘threw his/her head back and laughed.’
2) ‘inky blackness.’
3) ‘lay down–lie down–lay down–fuck!’
Then I sulked until my wife agreed to bring the boy to his afternoon class, because I needed some friggin’ time alone to work. Then I spent that time surfing porn sites for my most deviant and elusive fantasies: women with extant public hair. Then my mother called the moment I found one, and left a seventeen minute message asking if I wanted her to ship me volume R-S-T of the 1973 Encyclopedia Judaica.
Then I re-arranged the 1,000 words without improving them in any way, and washed my son’s sheets.
That was great. You should definitely start your own blog. Or just keep commenting on this one. Yeah… do that.
August, you complete me. Now, back to cleaning out the ashes.
There are so many links I want to post here. So many.
You made me realize I write to remember those daydreams.
In this one life go for your dreams.
Isn’t that life in general? lol! Loved that song, btw. I thought it was MY song. 🙂 But I get to go to that place whenever I’m writing.
Nary a wicked step-sister in sight. Heaven.