1976, MANHATTAN

Dear Diary,

Met my good friend Andy Warhol at some loft called the “Factory” in New York City today. It was exactly like I’ve always imagined the inside of his head to look—nothing but abstract art and outlandish characters running about.

We’ve been close for ages! When he got sick as a kid, I used to tell him stories and keep him company at the hospital. Andy’s been an odd duck since birth, so naturally we hit it off right away. I’m so proud of him and everything he’s accomplished. It takes real brilliance to turn eccentricity into something profitable.