With the utmost sincerity to my oft-neglected diary,

It occurs to me as I look out on the myriad wonders of the still so hidden nation of China that it has been a remarkably long time since I last endeavored to contribute to my own diary. Likewise, I have so wasted the talents of my retinue, specifically those of Mr. Magnusson. An educated gentleman of his caliber ought not to squander away his industry on the condensed musings of any individual, even one as accomplished as myself, Mrs. Sarah Louise Palin. Perhaps when we reunite I shall apply Bernard's talents to other pursuits that better match his proclivities. I do hope that his journeys through this unique land have made in him as much of a transformation as my serendipitous head trauma has made in me.

*Success! A local jade salesman has finally produced a reliable lead in our search for Mrs. Palin, and not a moment too soon. Grant and Alec were growing impatient, not to mention frustrated considering Mrs. Palin's recent entries on her Facebook account. That she has used the grand communication potential of the Internet to comment on current military affairs but not to contact her wayward retainers is, I admit, a bit disconcerting. But I can feel, as unscientific as that is, that we are close. These weeks selling parsnips by the roadside shall not be in vain!

--a few pages appear torn--

...and his touch is unlike anything I have experienced before. It is as if the aurora has found purchase in the tactile sense when he is present. Perhaps it is the lack of sun in our enclosure or the fresh opium in which we have indulged, but I am utterly lost to time. I could fill a thousand pages with his name, Bernard, Bernard, Bernard and never grow weary of its singular curvature.

*I... I simply cannot find the words to express the emotions welling up within me. We found a small hotel in one of the dark, isolated districts of Hong Kong and in one of its rooms was none other than our employer, yet she was so different. The bandage around her cranium suggested trauma, but the Sarah... the Mrs. Palin we discovered was a changed woman. No longer did she crave frozen custard, no longer did she spend her idle moments discussing her as yet unfilmed television show. In fact, she had no idle moments at all. We have remained here in this hotel for some time and engaged in the most inexplicably passionate romance of my life. How ever will we face the world?

Diary, my first and last confidante, I know that this excursion cannot sustain itself long into the future. More troubling is the fact that some unknown individual has been posing as me in my absence, even going so far as to update my Facebook page with words I may have used in the past, but no longer. Regardless of what happens between Bernard and I, I must discover this fraud and begin repairing my reputation as soon as I return to the United States. But for now, I will savor the last moments of my unique affair while we wait for the new passports to arrive and the plane to pass inspection. Adieu, my journal. I regret my absence from your pages.