Lots of girls I know like to say they’re divas. “I’m such a diva!” they say, while they’re rubbing your nose in some five-hundred-dollar shoes their daddy bought them, or whatever. But a diva’s a lot more than most sixteen-year-old rich grrrls can comprehend. I plan to be a diva someday—the real kind who sings and gets flowers thrown onstage. But first, I have to make the perfect audition tape.
So I do.
Opera_Grrrl’s Online Journal
Subject: Summer Opera Program in New York—Accepted!
Date: April 10
Time: 2:13 p.m.
Listening 2: “Brindisi” from La Traviata
Feeling: Ecstatic
Weight: 115 lbs.
YESSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!