Yesterday, a girl named Christine asked me for my autograph. She was carrying my book for some reason, and was very excited to see me in the hall. Dasha seemed annoyed that I was getting attention from a total stranger, when all we both really wanted was for me to walk her to class without being pestered to death by a crazy fan who really doesn't give a shit about your writing but wants to say that they know you when you become famous one day.

I have also noticed that Dasha is a superb writer and that she will be famous one day for something brilliant she will create. I believe this with all my heart.

On a side note, my mother shut down our restaurant for a day because she was extremely stressed. No one I know has a harder life than her, and no one I know is so undeserving of such. My father pulled my millionaire grandfather into this, hoping he would set her straight (our family being Chinese, and this is how Chinese people operate), but I doubt she'll come home. I called her and told her to have a good time. My next novel will probably be based on how tough her life has been for the past twenty years.

And good riddance.