I can’t believe how unkempt these flower beds are. There’s not even any fresh vegetables in growing in the garden. They call this place The Gnome Abode. More like Section 8 housing. Ew.

I am and will always be a California girl at heart. Daddy gave me this nice little house on the shore when I turned eighteen. I’ve excelled at being a professional socialite and party planner for the past thirteen years. I’ve dabbled in songwriting, modeling, and was recently featured in a Hollywood blockbuster movie.

Last Saturday afternoon, I was lounging on a nearby beach sipping a mimosa and sunning myself. Some dirty hippy wearing nasty hiking boots stepped on the edge of my towel, which completely disrupted my moment of zen. He invited himself to sit on that tainted edge of the towel and asked me for directions to the nearest port-a-potty.

I told him that I had no idea what a port-a-potty even was. For some reason, that fact still didn’t make him leave. He introduced himself as Sheldon and explained that he was a travel writer who was exploring the area and meeting people along the way. How weird. Who does that?

The conversation was gruelingly dull until he mentioned that he lived with the one and only Jerry, King of the Gnomes. Suddenly, my ears perked up and I listed to nasty ass Sheldon talk about the other gnomes under Jerry’s rule and how lonely Jerry seemed to be all alone at the top.

The next thing I know, I was sitting in the window seat on a plane next to Sheldon headed back to this mysterious place called The Gnome Abode. Daddy always encouraged me to climb the ladder of high society, but I hope I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.

Sheldon is the perfect kind of gnome to use to get what I want. He’s so naive and trusting. However, I feel that Jerry is my key to reining over these peasants and fulfilling my destiny of Queen of Gnomeland. I just need to get Jerry to marry me…that’s all.

I haven’t met Jerry yet, though I’m told he’s here somewhere. The other gnomes here seem petty, small-minded, and noisy. I guess there’s only one other girl here. I haven’t met her either, but rumor has it that she’s the “Community Bicycle”. Apparently everyone  gets a ride. Ew.

Anyway, I’m going to try to find a way though the sliding glass door and some clean sheets and pillows to get some sleep where civilized debutante like me belong. There is no way I’m sleeping out in the grass with those peasants.

Tomorrow I will look into where the nearest urgent care clinic. I’m sure I need a bunch of shots to avoid catching these gnomes’ gross diseases.

Disgusted but cautiously optimistic,

Tabitha The Gnome