I don't live in Newport Beach, and I don't wear makeup to work out. My boobs are real, and I've earned every laugh line, every wrinkle. I shop at Target and Old Navy, and my children are lucky to find Vans or Converse at shoe warehouses. Life is expensive and stressful and glorious.
First queries sent out last night. Phew. Is this how all writers feel afterward - like they have a brick sitting in their stomach? Dear God, this could go on for months...how am I going to eat?
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