I look around at all my things--I have many, and goord lord, am I grateful. But with this gratefulness, I get a strong lingering of loneliness. You see, everyday, I am hounded with opportunities, things I know I don't need, but still pursue. All the while, keeping open, waiting for that electric boy, my electric boy, to come along. But he won't. He won't come.

And I look at all of my suitors, and I am truly flattered, I am aghast--yet, lonely. And I know that if this new glass castle boy asks, I'll say yes, even though I am empty, even though I might not fully mean it, even though I am wildly vain, because my mother raised a fool.

A pretty little fool.