1. Wake up, leaving enough time for eyes to de-puff from sleep.
2. Drink coffee.
3. Shower.
4. Put make up on. Perhaps a little more than necessary for a work day, but hey, you’re getting your picture taken! Wanna be purty.
5. Make sure eyes look extra sparkly.
6. Blow dry hair (BIG DEAL, am always too lazy for this).
7. Double check where you’re going on Google.
8. Make sure you have application and birth certificate.
9. Spill coffee on pants.
10. Shit.
11. Change entire outfit, but make sure that your make up still matches (used special green eyeliner).
12. Grab keys, purse, and tennis clothes for after work.
13. Lock apartment and go down to car.
14. Go back up to apartment and get birth certificate.
15. Drive confidently to Post Office location.
16. Get lost.
17. Call assistant frantically asking for directions to a place you don’t have the address of.
18. Feel like moron.
19. Check face in car mirror. Make up not as dewy as originally was cause is mother f’ing hot outside.
20. Reapply lip gloss, good enough.
21. Get to post office.
22. Wait in line.
23. Hand over forms and birth certificate.
24. Get instructions on how to drive across the city to get the PROPER birth certificate, because apparently you’re inferior in birth and do not have proper documentation.
25. Ask woman behind desk where this place is. She’s already on phone.
26. Double shit.
27. Call assistant again, proudly explain that you actually HAVE an address for her to look up this time.
28. Get stuck behind gravel truck and next grandpa driver leaving you no chance of passing him.
29. Miss exit.
30. Turn around, realize desired off ramp is closed when going North.
31. FUCK
32. Get to the goddamn building to request the fucking right birth certificate.
33. Pay 17 bucks.
34. Almost get run-over in parking lot by jackass too busy smoking and talking on cell phone to notice you walking.
35. Throw your almost empty coffee cup from Starbucks at car.
36. Miss pathetically.
37. Take your Proper Goddamn Certificate back to the fucking post office to get your fucking passport.
38. Don’t bother checking to see if you have something stuck in your teeth cause OH MY GOD ENOUGH ALREADY
39. Fork over another 117 fucking dollars cause, hey, it’s just money and it’s not like I’m trying to make ends meet.
40. Go to work.
41. Realize that you just paid 134 bucks for a passport for a trip that you’d rather eat glass than go on.

Things I tend to think of instead of writing:

1. Just one glass of Two Buck Chuck to get in the mood.
2. Hey, is my TiVo recording something!
3. Better see what it is!
4. OK, fine, one more glass. But that’s all. Must stay focused.
5. TiVo, we need to talk. No more recording Dr. Phil. Ever. Ok? I still love you, though. Please don’t forget to record the new “Coming Out Stories” this weekend. So long as it doesn’t interfere with Scrubs. STOP JUDGING ME! I do NOT watch too much TV!!
6. God, no wonder I drink. Even my electronics judge me.
7. OK. Back to work. Writing. Writing….
8. Oh. My. God. Is that a bump on the roof of my mouth?….It totally is. I bet it’s cancer. I better google it. ACK! Scary!
9. Need more wine to soothe self from scary google images of “bumps in mouth.” (do not try at home)
10. God. Am terrible person. Why did I think I could be a writer? All of my stories have already been told. By better writers, who are also happily married and more attractive. Probably don’t have scary bumps in mouth, either.
11. Hmmm. New email from Sephora. Oh!!! New product! Must try!!! Credit Cards love me, I should get paid for shopping!
12. Have disappointed parents, am sure. Should have majored in Econ or Christian Education so I could invest for them, or at the very least, know how to operate flannel-graph board.
13. Am I still typing? Better get back to my story.
14. Um. So. A girl. A single girl. Wants to be a writer. She, uh, has a best friend who’s gay and hot and she’d totally marry in a second, if it weren’t for that damn penis problem.
15. Waaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I want a baby! Look at the cute toddler on the Pampers commercial! So cute! And Boo! The perfect kid. Am sure I’ll have one just like her!! Only not computer generated….
16. Damn! The writing! God, I suck.
17. OK, so girl, uh, well, she does a few quirky things, meets some people, comes to terms with who she is even though it’s different than what she was raised to be, solves a huge mystery, falls in love, and lives happily ever after. Also gets a complete hair makeover from even quirkier (it’s totally a word. shut up) gay next door neighbor.
18. As my reward for completing plot outline, will have one more glass of wine.
19. Shit. All empty.
20. Luckily, TiVo found something new to record….ahhh, much better. Psychic Detectives. Will they find that missing Co-ed? Better stay tuned!!

So at the end of September, I’m doing the AIDS walk for San Diego. It was my Super Secret KGB Agent Assistant’s idea, actually (OK, can’t I just call her KGB Assistant from now on?  This is getting really hard to type. Especially when the Pinot Grigio is flowing like….well, like wine),  but anyway, yeah. We’re trying to get at least 10 people on our team and also raise $1000. I know it might seem like a lot, but oh my God, it’s not. I never realized how much AIDS and HIV affects people in my very city. Breaks my heart.

So, if you’re feeling generous, or merely want a small tax write off, please click here to sponsor me, or even join me in the walk! It really is time to start caring for the ill and needy, don’t you think?

Today is a day for a party! Par-TAY!!! I want a cake (chocolate, pink frosting, novelty candles…but really, I’m not too picky), presents (you can start at Sephora…I’m sure you’ll do just fine there) and pointy little hats that fit uncomfortably tight under the neck.

Why? I mean, you’re seriously questioning the reason behind a party? I have a pinata!! No, really, I do. It’s a Harry Potter one that Mom mailed me for my last birthday (nearly 9 months ago); it’s currently hanging proudly, albeit faded, from my balcony.  Plus, I make killer goody bags! None of those lame-ass premade ones with generic smarties in them.  Real goodie bags with pretty puffy paint stencils on the outside and Chinese Finger Traps and yo-yo’s and whoopie cushions!! WHOOPIE CUSHIONS!!!

But, fine, I’ll indulge you. Today I’m given a clean bill of health from my head shrinker. Yay! It’s been almost exactly nine months since my life was turned topsy turvey because of some jackass with GHB and raging hormones who took advantage of the fact that I was alone at an impromptu New Years Eve party last year. Yeah, not so fun. So I did the detective thing, which yeilded no suspects (hard to find the culprit when you have no memory of the entire 24 hours preceeding the crime), the Walking Zombie thing (and, for the first few days, it was probably because I was still drugged…there was a lot of it in my system), and eventually sought help. And it paid off. Parts of it sucked, mostly the parts where I had to go back into a similar experience from childhood (no, not my parents), the parts where I had to reinterview with detectives and lawyers and what not, and also the part where I was slipping dangerously back into darkness and wanting to vanish from life…but luckily, that part turned out to be a thyroid issue.  The part where some of my extended family turned their backs on me for being “unfun and rude since that night”  still smarts a little, but it’s getting better and better each day.

And now? Now I’m OK! Yes, I’m not naive enough to think I’ll never be bothered by these things again, but I have my life back! I have me back. My sense of humor is OK. I don’t get offended at the drop of a hat because I’m just SURE that that guy meant to personally insult me and me alone because obviously, he KNOWS I’m damaged and wants to exploit it. I can sleep through the night without medication. I don’t have nightmares, or jump everytime someone slams a door. I don’t sit around and indulge in depression, I get up and go for a walk, or watch that one episode of Will & Grace that just kills me every time (you know the one with Jack Black as Karen’s doctor? Oh. My. Gah.)

I’m not cutting all ties with my counselor, either. I know that January 1st is going to be a rough day for me, as will a lot of December, I’m sure (I tried to kill myself one dark December day many MANY years ago), so I’ll want to see her then and just check in.

But all the same, it’s a wonderfully freeing feeling to have myself back again, and not be worried about how I’ll turn out, or if I’ll be OK. I know I will be. And I know that I wouldn’t be, if it weren’t for all the love my family and friends have given me and for my faith (as much as I may question it now and then).  And for that? I’ll never stop giving thanks.

Have I mentioned that I’m going on vacation soon? As in, I leave a week from Sunday!! A real life, honest to God vacation. Two whole freaking weeks. And man, do I need it! I feel like I’ve been running as hard and as fast as I possible can for months, years, days, whatever.

We’re sorely understaffed in our office, so as much as I’m joking about being a slacker with the Boss gone, there’s so much to get done that sometimes actual tears come to my eyes when I think about it. Expenses to be approved, scripts to tweak, classes to staff and schedule, thesis projects to review…it’s insane. Plus, what I mentioned about the Fucking PhD’s still holds true, so there are calls to make/answer, emails to check (my daily average is around 30. All of them urgent, I’m sure), meetings to attend, and filing to do (never actually gets done, though. I put it in the To File pile and, dude, those little Office Fairies are soooo not doing their jobs!).

But anyway, this is why I’m going on vacation!! Yay!! I’m going here. And I’m driving! ROAD TRIP!! Hurray!! It’ll be a wonderful drive, with hidden beaches along the 1, the Redwood Forrest…and then 5 days in the most beautiful and adorable little cabin I’ve ever laid my virtual eyes on. And y’all? I’m going to go Huckleberry picking!! And go hiking to amazing places like this:

And this:

And even this:

I’m so excited that I can hardly stand it. Two whole weeks of wonderful scenery, no emails, and great company.