Last night, at Girl Guides, the girls kept grilling me for information on my “boyfriend.” When I told them I was single, they asked me about my ex-boyfriend. I had to make up a fictional, serious ex-boyfriend, complete with name, age, and reason for why he broke up with me. Then they started discussing their ex-boyfriends. I made up an ex-boyfriend just to fit in with a bunch of elementary school kids, who have all had more serious relationships than me. There comes a time when one must evaluate their life. That time is now.

 

Hosting a Heavenly Creatures fundraiser tonight that is proving to be more successful than I thought… at least 100 people on the guest list, some great performers lined up at The Whiskey, and drink specials until midnight. Such good Samaritans, all of us! I’ll work the door for awhile, then go get hammered so I can calm my nerves.

 

France in the a.m. About 24 hours of travel time. No sleep. I am completely unprepared. Barely packed, no luggage toothpaste, lack of shower essentials, etc. I am overwhelmed with emotions and I don’t know whether to cry, laugh, bite my fingernails or pee my pants with excitement. If I do all these things at once, I might implode. I have never done such a spur-of-the-moment trip without any carefully planned details ironed out. I mean, I’m already researching my 2011 trip to the Greek Islands for the love of baloney.

 

I do get to take a cab to downtown Paris to reach the train station, so hopefully I’ll see something worthwhile from a distance. I have an apartment on the beach in Lorient. My stomach is in knots. I want to puke. I need a beer. Let’s hope this journey is magical and life-altering, because I am tempted to buy a rape whistle.

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