The Diary of the Adventures of Albino Lobster

Dear Diary,
Today I had to explain to a few people that I am not a ghost of a regular lobster. When I told them that I was albino, they insisted that it was impossible for a lobster to be albino because, and I quote, "lobsters are too crunchy to be albino." What does that even mean? I don't feel crunchy. I may feel whatever the opposite of crunchy is...tender? Buttery?

Dear Diary,
Last night I went to the discotheque, and all the girls laughed at me because I was an albino lobster. It made me wish that I could people into albino lobsters. If they could experience my life, maybe they wouldn't laugh. Maybe they would be my friends and say, "Hey, let's go see a regular movie instead of a black and white one because I understand that you actually aren't that different from me." That's all I want.

Dear Diary,
I saved somebody's life yesterday. Pulled her from a burning car. I'm glad I'm albino lobster, I guess, and not an albino ostrich or something, so that I can actually grab things. She was very grateful, and she didn't make any comments about my albino-ness. It makes me wonder--do I prefer the attention I get for being an albino to the attention I get for saving someone's life? I probably do.

Dear Diary,
I met a Hollywood producer today. Looks like I'm going to be a guest star on an episode of "Modern Family." Makes sense. I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of fame, though. Maybe I should just marry the albino rhinoceros and settle down in some country town. Have a family. Isn't that what everyone wants? Or maybe I'll open a Red Lobster restaurant. Wouldn't that be ironic!