Diary Diary

This month, Prudence and Camilla plan to return to their roots in the Midwest.

November 2, 2001
Dear Diary,

I had the dream again last night. I was in a field, a corn field, with corn all around me. I looked up into the sky and I realized that the stars were not in their usual constellations--no Amy's Triangle, no Big Stick, no Shrimp Fillet--instead they spelled out my name: CAMILLA, in letters bigger and brighter than any marquee. I know it is a sign. Prudence and I have been trying to get discovered here in LA for almost four years now. We walk past the casting agencies, but do the agents ever come out and say "Hey! Beautiful girl! Let me make you a star!" We send letters to all the best magazines, but do they ever write back to offer us editorial positions? Never. This is no place for us. We belong back where the corn grows and you can see the stars. We're going back to the midwest. We can settle in a nice little town, preferably one named after someplace European. We will make the corn radiate with our beauty. We will transform the dull citizens with our dazzling sense of possibility. I can hardly wait.

Sincerely, Camilla

November 2, 2001
Dear Diary,

Camilla is acting like a fool. She has decided to leave LA and head for UMS, the Unnamed Midwestern State she sees in her dreams. Doesn't she remember why we came to LA in the first place? Her dream of seeing our names form in a cloud of smog? All her plans, her schemes by which we will be discovered, come to nothing. But we have a good life here. We have the best urban shrimp farm west of the Mississippi, and I try so hard to make Camilla realize that we truly have found a place for ourselves here. Does she recognize the happiness we bring our customers, who otherwise would have to travel god knows where for their shrimp? Does she see what an impact we've made by raising them not for eating, but as companions for so many Californians? Does she remember the spring of 1999, when the hatchlings spelled out her name in their tank? She always dreams of the future, and finds no joy in the present.

But of course I will follow her. There is no Prudence. There is no Camilla. There is only Prudence and Camilla.

Sadly, Prudence

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