January 23rd, 1:30am.

The ceremony yesterday was lovely. I gazed at a white rose centerpiece. I was transfixed, transformed. Caught a glimpse of myself in one of the grand hall’s chandelier diamonds. No more am I a young Slovene girl trying to decipher life’s message–I am an American woman with a twinkle in her eye and a song in her heart.

January 25th, 1:30pm.

The honeymoon is really quite exquisite. We went for a walk on the beach, my feet almost gliding across the sand. This is the closest I have felt to flying.

Intoxicating.

Now, I sit on a chaise lounge chair overlooking The People doing their People things–surfing, building sandcastles, eating meals from peculiar orange ice boxes. A wind blows in my direction, and I think I hear the laugh of my childhood friend, Dijana. But it is merely the whispering ghost of summer’s sweet air.

February 1st, 2:00am.

Everyone else in the cabin is asleep. I, on the other hand, am wide awake. We’re flying over what I believe to be Florida, although I cannot be completely sure. As I gaze out the small passenger window, a thought occurs to me: What would happen if the airplane were to crash? The thought of starting a new life…with a Polynesian prince. His name will be Alika.

The thought sends a chill down my spine. I am filled with excitement at the sudden prospect of living among the stones, living among the spirits of the island of Mokoli?i.

February 14th, 4:30pm.

Happy Valentine’s Day, he said to me this morning with a kiss on the cheek. I smiled and said the same back. I am now at Saks Fifth Avenue, being fitted by a woman who resembles my childhood dance teacher, Klementina. Where she is now, I do not know. The last I saw of her was during Christmastime, 1993–I caught sight of her devastating shadow as I blissfully inhaled the sweet smell of pine and cinnamon filling the city streets. Ah, that Christmas air.

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March 13th, 9:00am.

I am happy.

April 27th, 1:15pm.

As I take a sip of my morning coffee, I look down at the woman painting my nails. We exchange a smile. Her name is Leti. My name is America.

May 4th, 11:45am.

I have begun watching a new television show called Weeds. I like it a lot, and I admire the woman character. I devour the secrets of Mary Louise Parker’s smirk in the middle of the night. I yearn for something–what that something is, I am not yet sure of.

June 21st, 5:15pm.

Today marks the first day of the summer solstice. I sit and sip a mojito while watching the maid make a call on her cellphone. She is speaking animatedly; laughing, gesticulating wildly. To whom, I wonder. To whom.

July 18th, 9:00pm.

Earlier today I fainted in Bergdorf’s and fell into a rack of Givenchy business attire. I came to a few minutes later, and was met with the worried eyes of my fellow patrons. Melania, they cried out. Are you alright?

Am I alright? Ask the whispering graze of a raindrop on a leaf’s edge.

September 5th, 1:08pm.

Time. What a mischievous sister.

October 31st, 7:00pm.

It is All Hallows’ Eve. I pass the trick-or-treaters as they beg for sweets, dates and oranges. I see a little girl dressed as a ladybug. I smile

December 15th, 7:15pm.

I just woke up. Saw the maid’s shadow cast upon the wall. A beautiful sight. Haunting, yet tender. Mesmerizing, yet simple.

December 30th, 11:50pm.

I am astonished.

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