When I joined Bill Clinton's start-up presidential campaign in 1991 I was confident that women would play an ever more important role but I never gave a minute's thought to what would happen if we won. When we did - and I became the first woman to serve as White House press secretary - it changed my life. But it didn't change the world.
Why not collect and clean chicken wishbones in the run-up to Christmas spray them silver and use each to pinch together a white hem-stitch napkin?
A lesser complaint: hair extensions. There are moments on 'All My Children' when half the women actors young and old seem to be afflicted by android Barbie creep. All those thick swatches of lifeless strands clustering lankly round ladies' necks! Like orange tanning spray this is a fashion fad that should be put out of its misery.
Ants are so much like human beings as to be an embarrassment. They farm fungi raise aphids as livestock launch armies into war use chemical sprays to alarm and confuse enemies capture slaves engage in child labour exchange information ceaselessly. They do everything but watch television.
I'm terrified of bugs and I travel with sprays lotions potions the lot. I have to check the room before I go to sleep and if I come across a bug and fail to remove it I have to sleep in a separate room as I'm paranoid that I'll be taken advantage of as I sleep.
The secret of my success is my hairspray.
Nature is one great big wood-chipper. Sooner or later everything shoots out the other end in a spray of blood bones and hair.
The friendship we share grows amidst the craggy rock pond reeds of water spray fireflies scented with bonfires.
It's amazing what a spray-on tan will do.