Dear Lilith Fair,
I was sorting through some papers and I found one that was dated almost exactly a year ago from now with this written on it:
Sometimes I have horrible dreams that I’m back in Madonna Land. Except in my dreams Madonna and I are always in a room together with a piano or white furniture. And she is very nice and we talk. Last night I had a dream I had to go see Tracy, and to see her I had to walk through the room where Gwenyth Paltrow was giving birth. She was laid out on a table, but being her nice self, she stuck her head up and asked how I was. I talked to her, but felt weird because she was giving birth and I thought she should go back to that.
It is these kinds of things that pervade my subconscious. These people whose lives I threaded through when they didn’t know I was there playing their pianos, eating their cupboard munchies, or trying to get my paychecks from their employee…