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me up in a limousine, which I know isn’t environmentally correct, but Jazz said it was ahybrid, so my carbon footprint will still be neutral.
    So I’m not thinking so I can go to sleep.
    Except, I can’t stop thinking …
    so I keep thinking.
    I don’t really know
how
this all happened.
    I only know
that
it happened, and when
it
happened, it was all
Molto exciting
!
    Jazz’s note said she would call at 6:00.
    From her office
.
    And exactly at 6:00 she actually called, and it was all
Molto exciting
!
    She asked me to come to her office and meet her people because they want to do an article on
ME
, which—
I know!
—is
Molto Molto exciting
!
    (
Did she really say “article”?
)
    Well, I can’t remember
exactly what
she said, or what she called
it
, only that she said
something
, and it was all
Molto exciting!
    Venus and Aunt Rootie are coming with me too (
because my parents won’t let me go alone, blah blah blah
),
but
they also think it’s all
Molto Molto!
    And luckily we have a day off from school for something or other—so we aren’t even breaking any Harry S. Truman Rules .
    Jazz said for me to wear my bowling shirt, great-grandpop’s fedora, my Chucks, and not to even comb my hair …
    which, actually …
    when I keep thinking about it, doesn’t sound very exciting.
    In fact, it sounds sort of weird.
    But
, Venus says, her sister says it’s because Jazz is probably going to give me a complete, total, and unbelievably cool
   
Motto

   
Chic
makeover—which is
Molto exciting!
    Which makes me think, even though I shouldn’t be thinking because I should be sleeping, that maybe … just maybe …a fairy godmother somewhere out wherever FGs hang out connected my dots.
    Molto exciting!

    “Here I am! FG #11-288! Good to go with an incredible, cool makeover for one Zoey Zinevich.”

    “R-r-r-r-ead-d-d R-r-r-r-d-d R-r-r-ead-d-d-dd-dd-d-d-d-d”

    “Ready, Zoey?”

    “Jazz? … Jazz!” I should have guessed. Lightbulb Momento: She’s way 21st century.

    Hair?

    Feet?

    “Get ready for one La-di-da Incredible, Chic Makeover!”

    “Cool.”

    “J-j-j-j-aa J-ja-aa-zzz-z-zz?”

    “J-j-j-j-aa J-ja-aa-zzz-z-zz?”

    “J-j-j-j-aa J-ja-aa-zzz-z-zz?”

    Tune in tomorrow. (
That’s called a cliff-hanger. It’s very dramatic.
)

Thirteen
    TA-TA-TA-TA!
    I knew it was all very logical. Connect that dot to this dot to that dot, just like Mrs. Helferich always says.
    When you wish for something really hard, it can really, most definitely happen: There is most definitely a limousine in front of my house, 156 days to sixth grade. Ha! Cool Police!
    Jazz gets out of the car, and there’s lots of introductions with my parents, blah blah blah, blah blah blah; then good-byes, etc. etc. etc.; and finally Aunt Rootie, Venus, Jazz, and I get into the car.
    It’s a hybrid Hummer, so I think I’m still EC.
    Our driver, Howard, closes the door. He’s sort of like a Cinderella chauffeur but in a regular suit and tie, with a gray mustache that is very bushy. We all buckle up and are good to go.
    “We have juices, breakfast tacos with guacamole, strawberries, and …” Jazz holds out a box. “Donuts.”
    Howard starts the car (
I mean Hummer).
    Venus looks at me and grins. It’s a very chic breakfast. We take one of everything.
    The heated seat (
or maybe it’s the taco
) gets to Aunt Rootie, and she falls asleep before we get to the turnpike. Luckily she doesn’t snore, and she’s wearing her big sunglasses so none of us can see her eyes flutter. Which they always do when she sleeps.
    Aunt Rootie misses seeing the Statue of Liberty. (
It’s sort of far away, but Venus has binoculars.
) She wakes up just as the car goes through the toll plaza and heads into the tunnel. It’s really quite unbelievable. We are underwater even though it doesn’t feel like we’re underwater.
    Walter Colson should definitely do an extra-credit report on it. It is a totally major engineering phenomenon.
    (
Walter is very good