Puppy's Singing
Dear diary, Los Angeles is great.
I'm having the best time with mummy,
I'm missing my friends in London,
But whatever.
Mommy took me for breakfast at the Chateau Maman today.
We saw Ryan Gosling, but I was too shy to talk to him.
Yesterday, we went to Magic Mountain.
It was so hot.
I put on sunscreen every five minutes,
but I still look like a tomato.
Tomato?
We went on this ride called Tatsu that
does crazy loop-de-loops.
I did it three times, even though I
thought I was going to be sick.
I've been skateboarding a lot, too.
We went to Venice Beach, and I got a cool leopard print
banana board.
Oh, wait.
And so I met the most dreamy boy at Amoeba Records.
He has scruffy brown hair that goes every which way
and blue-green eyes.
He plays bass in a band called the Grease Stains.
He followed me on Instagram with, like, loads of my photos.
I've been posting lots of selfies.
Like, like, like, obviously.
Oh, my God.
I'm like a model.
And we've been snapchatting, like, 100,000 times a day.
He asked me to meet him for a strawberry milkshake.
I've been practicing my American accent.
Strawberry, strawberry, strawberry.
And I get a strawberry milkshake.
I've been spending a lot of time working out my look,
so it doesn't seem like I've put too much effort in.
But really, it takes hours to achieve the right balance.
You know?
Oh, this old thing?
Why, thank you.
I've had it forever.
Anyway, I got to go.
Mommy's taking me to the cinema.
And I just adore American popcorn.
XOXO, Angelica.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
