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something with your hair. Before the benefit.” She looked at me as if I disgusted her. “And let’s give a little thought tow at you’re wearing. Not that I have time.” She sighed and took another slug of her drink.
    “Did you complain to the people at the hotel abut the menu for the banquet?” I
    asked.
    “Why bother? Besides, most people don’t care about the food as long as we serve a salad. Everyone in Hollywood is on a diet.”
    “Did you find more things to auction off?” I asked.
    “Not enough. They can’t call me in to be chairperson at the last minute and expect me to perform miracles.”
    I wanted to get away from Mom. I hate her attitude when she’s drinking. But I
    was worried that the auction would be a failure. Then what would happen to the shelter?
    “Did you tell your committee about the animal photo idea?” I asked.
    “What photo idea?”
    The knot in my stomach was tightening. I reminded her about my idea to have big photos of animals from the shelter posted at the benefit.
    “Oh, that,” she said. “It can be your project. I don’t have time.” She went behind the bar and poured herself another drink.
    Mom is falling into her usual trap. I know she’s drinking because she’s afraid the benefit will be a failure. But if she’s drinking instead of working on the benefit it will be a failure. What a mess.
    Drunk or not. What a mess.
    Drunk or not, Mom was right about one thing. I LOOK AWFUL. I just tried on
    about a thousand outfits and I look terrible in all of them.
    FAT. FAT. FAT .
    Buying new clothes isn’t the answer. Losing weight is.
    I’ve changed my goal. I’m going to lose five pounds by Saturday. I just won’t eat.
    My body can eat its own fat.
    I want to look like the actress Dad hired for his film. She’d look gorgeous in any of my clothes.
    I hate my stomach. Five pounds won’t be enough. But it’s a start.
    Tuesday 7.21
    12:34 P.M.
    Skipping lunch. At front desk while volunteer goes to lunch.
    Piper was right about this job being hard work. I didn’t stop for five seconds all morning.
    I talked to her about the animal photographs for the benefit. We decided we need a really good photographer if the blowups are going to look good. Piper said she doesn’t know any photographers. I said I’d ask my dad to give me names of people and I’d call them.
    I was embarrassed that I asked Piper for help in the first place. She shouldn’t have to worry about the benefit. Called Dad, but he’s not in his office.
    Email from Zeke:
    Margaret Blume. Help! I am captive in outer space. Aliens in white shorts carrying strange weapons his yellow balls at me all day long . No fun. Dance lessons tonight. Save me. H-e-l-l-l-l-p-p-p-p! Big and superior powers to sent rescue troops to free me. Please.
    Poor Zeke.
    12:44 P.M.
    A woman just called the shelter. She found a litter of abandoner kittens near a supermarket. She’s bringing them in. Have to go prepare a crate for them.
    9:31 P.M.
    Lost 1 pound, 4 more to go.
    Busy, busy at work. The kittens are so cute. Five grey-and-white fluff balls. But they were taken from their mother too soon. The smallest one has to be bottle-fed. We named him Little Guy. Don’t know if he’ll make it.
    Dad in. Mom out.
    Mom left a note: Went shopping for dress for the stupid benefit. Home for dinner.
    She wasn’t home for dinner. She must have stopped for a drink...or two...or three on the way home. When things get bad, she likes to do that.
    Pilar made dinner. Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, string beans, and salad. I skipped lunch and only ate a little supper. Ad kept nagging me to eat more.
    I don’t understand my parents. They want me to look perfect. And then they try to keep me fat.
    Mom’s phone ling rang five times during dinner. I answered it in case they were calls about the benefit. It was also a way to escape Pilar’s feed.
    All the messages were people calling back about things they were asked to donate for the auction. Mom had