It might go against Scientology to record my thoughts but my thetan level is low enough that it might not matter until later, when I may become a master of the universe. I have to guess what the levels are called since Tom says that I’m not high enough in the order yet to know – much of anything.

While he is spending his time channeling L. Ron, I have tried to find the meaning of life in the temple of Barney’s. Did I say that? Because I didn’t mean it, in case you’re reading this my Scientology handlers. I meant that I just enjoy shopping. Because my life is so empty. By empty I mean FULL, though, it’s full of – shopping bags and hair cuts and love for L. Ron.

As first lady of Scientology, I must hold it together at all times  and no one knows the pressure that I’m under. Not only am I a fashion icon, I am an important actress and a vessel for scientology’s future. Even if I don’t have sex with Tom.

I must stop writing now. Tom is calling me and it’s time for my auditing, to free myself from the traumatic incidents of my life. Like my marriage. He worries when I start thinking or having friends, even ones as vapid as Posh.

Vapid. I love that word. I used words like that when I was living in Capeside. Oh, how I miss Dawson. He always knew me better than anyone else. I don’t wanna wait for my life to be over, I want to know right now what will it be… Dawson, I’ll leave my window open for you – please come.

Oh, no, Tom’s here. American Express, take me away…