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She was in her flannel bathrobe, the one that makes her look like a fairy-tale princess. It was chilly when we first got into bed, but we warmed up quickly. I can still feel her arms around me, her hands massaging my back. I can definitely smell her on my fingers. Vaginas are such sweet places. . . We didn’t get out of bed till this afternoon.

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Mom wanted to see the Marathon, so we went to what I figured would be the best place to watch it: Bedford-Stuyvesant, by Nostrand Avenue and DeKalb. We saw Grete Waitz, the first woman in the pack (she eventually won), and hundreds of other runners making their way past us. It made me dizzy to watch them.

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Off the air, the Sacramento interviewer asked me if I was getting “burned out,” and I said I wasn’t. But I can see how it happens. It’s hard when people expect you to be funny all the time. It’s work being a celebrity, and constantly having to be “on” is annoying.

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Thank God I won the straw ballot for President, avoiding an embarrassing defeat in my hometown. “How do you feel now, Richard?” said the Channel 4 reporter as the camera zoomed in on me and I tried to keep from cracking up.

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Will I ever forget him? No, but I have forgiven him, if there was ever anything to forgive. I’m glad that if someone had to get hurt, it was I and not him because I’m so much better prepared to deal with hurt than Sean is. Of course, I don’t really know if I hurt him, do I?

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I bet lots of people suppose I’m a spoiled, pampered brat. Am I? I don’t think so. . . On the whole, I’m not a bad guy. My biggest faults are self-pity, self-consciousness, and an insatiable need to be noticed, along with a tendency to gossip and to be a little too cute.