The Manolo Matrix

Chapter One

Jennifer

Jennifer Crane. That's it. That's my name. Ever heard of me?

I'm guessing not, which, frankly, sums up my entire problem with my life as it currently stands: I'm not famous. And, as far as I can tell, the fame fairy isn't going to be anointing me any time soon.

Sucks, doesn't it?

And what really reeks is that I'm good. I've got a voice on me that rivals Julie Andrew's (and that's before she had throat surgery).

Actually, you know what? I take that back. I'm pretty sure it's a grievous sin to compare yourself to Julie Andrews, who is, in my opinion, a goddess of stage and screen. The woman has some serious pipes. But, honestly, I could give Patti LuPone, Joanna Gleason, or Betty Buckley a run for their money any old day.

Which begs the question of why I was currently earning a living (such that it was) as a singing waitress instead of opening on Broadway.

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