Entry #101
Dear Diary,
Another milestone! Menopause, first day of Year 19. Sigh.
Nonsense in Politico this morning: It says some of my friends don’t want me to run. Who, friends who don’t want to be friends when I win? Puh-leeze! This is a lock. If only I had the press on my side! Ha! Ha! (Hashtag snark. Is that how you write it?)
"To Do When I Am President" List: Why do we still make staples out of metal? Surely we are running out of that. Everyone must fold over the corners and tear! Hashtag savetheplanet
Must stop at airport gift shop to buy hoodie for Putin, in case he ever shows up shirtless. (Just between us, though, dear diary… mama likey!)
Headed to Iowa today for DUH reasons: You want the hillbilly vote, you have to do the hillbilly dance. Locking myself in the airplane bathroom to practice my inbred-cracker accent. Y‘all. Shotgun. Gawd. Superstitious gun-toting mouth-breathers. Hashtag justkidding. Like going back to Arkansas in ’78 except the women dress like the Amish instead of American Hustle. (Must see it soon. Bradley Cooper’s perm = new ‘do for me???)
Thinking of signing into the hotel under a false name. Ideas so far: Eleanor Roosevelt, Heywood Jablowme, Ben Gazzy.
Random thoughts: What does George F. Will’s wife have that I don’t? And why doesn’t GFW answer my emails? Perhaps if I signed them. It would be a Capulet/Montague affair, but the heart wants what it wants. Plus, think of the press!
TDWIAP List: Funny how you can hop around the world a million times and never know where anything is. I wouldn’t know the difference between L.A. and Tehran if it weren’t for the natives beating on the limo. Also the bombs. Four years of geography in high school yet nothing stuck. Sigh.
Sometimes when I buy little things in the airport and the clerk asks for money, I like to say "But it’s for the children!" to see if I can get it without paying.
The bagels at the American Jewish Congress were the best I’ve ever had–that only makes sense, right?
Diary, let me get this out of my system: Bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy bossy. There.
Wrote this great joke. Might use it on the ol’ campaign trail, maybe save it for accepting the nomination. Huma Abedin and Rand Paul walk into a bar. Huma meets a nice man and enjoys a pleasant evening. Rand Paul is beaten to death with a shovel.
Any chance Newt Gingrich would endorse me? Stranger things have happened. Sure, it sounds like a longshot, but he likes to do crazy shiz-nit.
Thoughts on Israel policy: I will not make the same mistake as Barack "Love Me" Obama. His red line moves constantly, but mine is crystal clear: If Iran reduces Jerusalem to a pile of radioactive rubble, I will take serious action. Maybe sanctions. Tough ones. Reset tough. Probably. On this I will not waver.
The Super-Top-Secret, Extra-Personal Campaign Diary of Hillary Rodham Clinton is stolen each week by Lari Vine, the nom de guerre of an obscure playwright and screenwriter living in Washington DC. This diary is made possible by a grant from the geniuses over at the Center for American Progress. Not really, but how cool would that be?