SS: Dear Diary: I'm here at Tanglewood, at a music camp for the extremely gifted, taking violin. Jared and I applied together and I got in and he didn't and he was really steamed about that and he says, It's not all about you, you know. Well, excuse me, but yes it is. I happen to be an excellent violinist and he is like a very mediocre violist, which is a redundancy. Anyway, here I am. I do not miss him one bit. I colored my hair bright red, and I'm letting it go loose and wild and wherever I go around camp, I can feel people staring at me. As they should.


SS: Dear Diary: I went out to the woods to practice today, and this bass player followed me out there. His name is Brett. I was like, what do you want, and he was like, let's play duets. And I said, are you hitting on me? And he said maybe. And now I kind of like Brett. He's got that special bass vibe, you know? Like a baritone, but more so. He makes me feel ---- alive.


SS: Dear Diary: Brett is so amazing and supportive. It's like the bass is an extension of his heart. He's definitely a spiritual soul mate. I told him that my dream is to be the next great violin star and to play the Bartok concerto barefoot in a white dress, on a white horse, and my red hair flowing behind and have a little electric fan on the floor blow up at me so my dress ripples. I never knew life could be this good.


SS: Dear diary: Today was weird. I saw Brett and he was with this mandolin player. Her name is Tina. Which I think of as more like a cat's name, but anyway. We played through some folky songs and Brett was like, "whoa, wasn't that awesome?" And I was like, "sure, no problem. But, if you love trigonometry, why would you want to go back to addition and subtraction?" And Tina punched me in the face. I would've hit her but I'm not about to injure my hands over a mandolin. So that evening I put rat poison in her vinagrette dressing. She was up vomiting all night, and I guess Brett held her hair and they had a really romantic time. Which is just fine. A man from Columbia Records is coming to my concert tomorrow. I can't wait. I'm changing my name to Scarlet.


SS: Dear Diary: I played the Bartok the best I ever played it today. Tina and Brett announced they are getting married tomorrow here at Tanglewood. They sent me a note: Dear Melissa: you are not invited to our wedding on Sunday in front of 400 of our closest friends. Had we chosen to invite 400 of our worst enemies, different story, but please do not come." Fine. I don't care. The man from Columbia records is taking me to dinner. He said I should get an agent. Pronto. He said I am a "sizzler". He loves the name Scarlet. And guess what? I looked at the forecast for tomorrow. It's supposed to rain all day.