On The Eve Of Distruction

7:21pm- Head out for a big night on the town. It’s New Year’s Eve and we’re doing it up right. Decide to wear oversized black feather headband to accentuate the 1920s vibe of the evening. On walk to restaurant, mistaken for trophy fowl. Hit in head with buckshot.

7:48pm- Partake of a glorious meal in only Istrian restaurant in Bay Area, Albona. Experience led by benevolent proprietor, Bruno, who discusses food and wine with the knowledgeable flair of Italian paisano. Completely bliss out from meal and turn into puddle in own seat. Boyfriend sops up mess that is me.

10:01pm- Step lively at Bimbo’s, enjoying an evening of swing dancing and drinks. Spot woman I think is Eva von Slut, a buxom pinup girl boyfriend and I have seen around the scene. Confident from drink, walk up and tap her on shoulder inquiring as to her identity. Here’s some unsolicited advices: asking someone if they are So-and-So von Slut when they are not gets your ass kicked.

11:16pm- Waiting in line for bathroom surrounded by mirrors and gabbling, chirping drunk girls, notice objectively that I have without question porked the fuck way up over past year. When I finally get my chance in the stall, I use it to give self never-ending swirlie. Drown in own urine and sorrows.

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Nicest Airport In America

5:45am- Wake up way too early for flight. Friend drives me to Hilo airport. I am pleasantly surprised by service, professionalism and efficiency of the entire ATA crew. It’s not your ordinary cattle-probing, corralling international airport. So few flights means so few people and therefore we can all treat each other with dignity. This doesn’t mean my plane doesn’t crash however.

3:10pm- Arrive home and run into arms of loving boyfriend who was missed during trip as he stands at top of stairs romantically holding a dozen roses. A dozen very thorny roses that pierce flesh upon embrace. My last moment is spent in his arms, berating him for not pruning.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Worlds Collide In Hilo

11:31am- In pleasant coincidence, make plans to see friends from mainland who happen to be out for vacation. Drive together to Lava Tree State Park to view phenomenon where hot lava has rushed in surrounding large wet trees and then left behind perfect hardened replicas of what tree used to be. While ambling through park, another wave of lava comes barreling through. Fricassee’d Pompeii-style.

2:04pm- Take a dip in a volcanically heated hot pond called Ahalanui. On way down to pond, fail to read sign outlining rules and cautions. Aware of my constant state of fear, friend withholds very important information so that I might enjoy self for few minutes. The information? Angry, hungry, blood-lusting eels navigate these waters. Eaten in a hurry.

8:27pm- Have final-night thank-you dinner at delicious Thai restaurant in Volcano called Thai Thai. Over-order. Over-eat. Over-extend stomach sack which bursts sending colorful fountain of savory contents up into air. I try to re-consume before going unconscious.

Other than that, pretty good day.

White Sand Christmas

8:19am- Mele kalikimaka! Wake up. Open gifts. Friends’ son poops on floor. Looks like it’s another E.Coli Christmas.

3:12pm- Hike 20 minutes to get to secret beach. Halfway there body consumed by exhaustion. I thought this was a vacation.

3:22pm- Arrive at the most beautiful and secluded beach yet and meet up with friends’ friends from previous night. Wade out in the water. At dusk. While wearing a shiny watch. I hear all of these things are what they tell you not to do otherwise you attract sharks. “They” are right.

4:49pm- Flop down on beach to watch sun set while eating summer sausage and cheese on crackers. I feel a few bugs bite my back. Tell my friend I’m getting bit. She says, “yeah, me too.” But when I get up to gather more summer sausage she screams because my entire back is covered in splotchy red welts. Succumb to Jungle Fever.

5:21pm- Hiking back to car to escape ravenous beach-dwelling insects, spot a small collection of gravestones. With a view of the ocean shaded by palm trees, it’s the prettiest place to be dead. Decide to join them.

6:06pm- On way home, stop at drug store to buy antihistamine to lessen itch of bites. Store only has children’s brand, meaning I should take less because it’s concentrated. I misunderstand thinking it would be less potent if it’s for kids (what do I know about such things?) Chug ½ of bottle. OD.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Here Comes Satan-Claus

9:13am- Wander around Kona farmer’s market admiring delicious fruits and vegetables I’m too shy to purchase. Inhale their sweet scents instead, along with tropical spore previously unknown to effect humans. During autopsy, doctors coin it Mad Mango Disease due to my succulent orangey pulp of a brain.

11:00am- Make pilgrimage to Kona Brewing Company to indulge on deliciously greasy pizza. In rare event, also order beer. Am drunk and engorged with white flour crust all before noon. Slip into high-carb coma. Friends pull plug.

1:54pm- Frolick and splash at Waialea beach (aka: Beach 69). Waves crash around us as me and friends navigate unseen lava boulders beneath the water’s surface. Mistaking one such boulder for oversized carnivorous fish, freak out, slip on rock, get pummeled by wave, manage to drag self up onto beach sputtering and spent. Hit on head by falling coconut.

2:31pm- Drive back across island up through picturesque Waimea area famous for its Paniolo cowboys. Shot in head by stray arrow.

3:49pm- Drop best friend off at airport. Don’t want to see her leave. Clutch her ankle as she drags me across pavement. It’s not as bad as if I was hanging onto bumper of speeding car, but still, internal injuries are amassed.

4:01pm- Travel back to friends’ house to prep for Christmas Eve feast. They are set to receive 20 or so guests, mostly made up of work friends orphaned on the island for the holidays. Lamb is prepared. Deep fried turkey as well. The feast begins. Toasts are made. Merriment is had. Knives are flying. I get stabbed in the eye before being mistaken for Roast Beast.

8:44pm- Feel shy. Turn into wallflower. Friends forget to water me.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Tubular Breathing

12:34pm- Meander over to the Kona side of island. On the way stop at Hana Hou Café, the most southern restaurant in the United States. Pre-order slice of Macadamia-Nut pie to ensure they don’t run out by time we’re ready for dessert. At end of meal, informed that regardless of our request, patron purchased whole pie, which happened to also be last pie. Throw fit. Am subdued by two local characters while waitress smothers face with only slightly-less-delicious coconut cream pie. Suffocate.

1:02pm- Stop off at Honaunau Place of Refuge National Park. Story goes, that if people who had committed crimes could get to this spot before fellow villagers got to them, they could not be prosecuted or more typically, killed. This old mare ain’t what she used to be. Don’t even get out of the starting blocks before I’m captured. My crime? Continued pouting over Mac-Nut pie.

1:49pm- All set to swim. Arrive at Two-Step, a top snorkeling spot on the Big Island. Step down two rocky steps into water only to find out that snorkeling is more difficult than I remember. Especially with deep water and waves crashing you back towards rocks. Finally get mask on, only to have it fog up immediately. Attacked by something, not sure what. But it was big.

1:59pm- Finally get hang of this whole underwater breathing business. Swim and splash around, fish-gazing, yet careful not to lose sight of friend guiding me. Spot sea turtle. Ecstatic, beeline in its direction to get closer look (but not too close, concerned hippies!) Friend points off to my right. I turn. It’s another turtle. Much closer. Much TOO close. I scream through snorkel tube. Upon inhale ingest perhaps 20 gallons of seawater. Drown.

5:12pm- Drink my first bowl of kava. Like marijuana, it causes mild paranoia at first. Of course this is exacerbated by my trio of friends not partaking, yet staring. Three sips in, assume I have overdosed. Assumptions prove prescient.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Whoever Smelt It, Dealt It

10:49am- I love plate tectonics and I love volcanoes so friend takes us on tour of Volcanoes National Park. Our first trail, called Sulphur Banks, has us traversing land where cracks spew noxious yellow clouds of gas. Fascinated, I lean too far over. Face poached like overpriced egg at Ritz-Carlton Sunday brunch.

11:00am- While walking along trail, friend grabs 3 berries from shrub and instructs us to try them. Concerned they are poisonous, but standing atop active volcano, decide to throw caution to wind. Eat berry. Pecked to death by Nene, or Hawaiian goose. Appears this is their main food staple during breeding season.

2:14pm- Lava tubes! Lava tubes! Walk through this exciting natural phenomenon only to trip in dark, pass out and drown in inch-deep water.

5:38pm- Hike out onto hardened lava fields just before sunset to watch fresh lava spew all fiery orange and molten into Ocean right before eyes. Walking over glassy-sharp lava with limited light source expectantly difficult. Trip over laces of new hiking shoes, slip down crack. Bloodied, but alive, am left to fend for self by friends.

6:10pm- Sitting atop cooled rock enjoying a hiker’s dinner and watching lava show, am reminded that just that afternoon a warning had been issued that 55-acre lava shelf collapse was imminent. The same shelf on which I am now perched. Sploosh!

Other than that, pretty good day.

Sweetarts Hit Mostly Sour Notes

12:30pm- After last night’s cocktail of Xanax and wine, body goes into toxic shock. Worried that I have not stirred all morning, friends come in to room to check that I am still breathing. I am not.

1:48pm- Drive into the quaint little town of Hilo for lunch and acclimation. Stop off at farmer’s market and spot what I think are lychee nuts, but in fact I am told, are the ever more visually enticing and exotic rombutans. Buy bag-full and attempt to peel the first one. Fat squirming alien creature bursts forth, attaching itself viciously to neck. Inserts inch-long fangs into jugular. Guess I am the exotic fruit today.

2:33pm- Saunter into garden supply store so friend can purchase machete for husband as Christmas gift. As dear reader can imagine, salesperson’s overenthusiastic demonstration goes awry.

3:01pm- Friend exhibits her 10-month-old child’s potty-training method called Elimination Communication. It involves no diapers. Simply make hissing noise in child’s ear while holding them in pee-ready position in discreet location. Hissing noise causes me to pee own self. Unfortunately, am not in discreet location. Carted off to jail only to contract jungle rot from dampened underwear.

3:12pm- Take walk through beautiful, Japanese-inspired Lili'uokalani gardens overlooking Hilo Bay and Coconut Island. Gaze out past picture-perfect rainbow to see 5-story-tall wall of water surging towards shore. Damn you, tsunami!

4:19pm- Indulge upon dragon fruit ice cream. But what I thought was fruit is indeed adorable baby dragon. Mother of sacrificed delicacy swoops down from sky incinerating me on sight.

6:09pm- Meet up with friend’s husband as he and friends play lively game of ultimate Frisbee. All that running around causes me to have heart attack in their honor.

9:11pm- Grab drink at bar featuring the band, Sweetarts. Are all arrested for bringing baby into bar. This time in jail, am turned into bitch by what could be described as “overly-voluptuous” Samoan woman. Suffocated during lovemaking.

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Lesser-Known Malevolent Spirits of Aloha

7:10pm- Arrive at airport. Plan is to meet best friend at gate as she has flown in from LA so we can continue on together to Big Island. Spot her at gate. Start to run over to greet her. Trip over small child. Impaled on business man’s luggage handle.

8:19pm- Forgo food in favor of alcohol before boarding plane figuring 5 ½ hour flight will warrant at least complimentary ½ sandwich or snack-pack. Wrong! Am forced to purchase (with credit card no less—cash not accepted) tube of Pringles potato chips, a “food” I haven’t consumed since 5th grade. Trans fats surge right to aorta setting up thick, viscous camp which disallows blood to flow properly to heart.

9:45pm- Halfway over Pacific Ocean, plane breaks apart ala “Lost.” Once on the mysterious island, my plotline is not interesting enough to be featured on show. My character is merely panned over during group shots until I am captured by The Others. Nobody notices.

11:20pm- Land safely in Hilo, Hawai’i, but sadly am not lei’d upon disembarkation of plane. Try to find someone to complain to, but am ambushed by cannibalistic hula troupe.

11: 34pm- Greet old college friends and their baby. Get into car and drive up side of Kilauea volcano towards their house. Angered by my impertinence, Pele rains down shower of molten lava to thwart my ascent. Fried to Pringles-like crisp.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Menace To Society

9:14am- In meeting with client who asks if everyone got the corporate Christmas present she sent. I say no, to which she points out that due to legal issues, I, as contractor, am ineligible for company-logo-laden umbrella. Legal issues? Over an umbrella? That kills me!

10:36am- In another meeting with different clients, one of whom utters the phrase, “brown hole.” Everyone looks over at her aghast and taking her place, I’m the one who dies of embarrassment.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Naptime! Naptime! Naptime! See? It’s Annoying.

8:45am- See big, fat old minivan driving next to me in double turn lane. Something atop van catches eye. It is tiniest baby Christmas tree EVER! And it’s strapped down with bungee cords as if it is twin sister of giant Rockefeller Center tree. Laugh so hard, miss turn and slam car into cement truck. That’s what makes the holidays worth it!

1:45pm- Every workday after lunch I must pass security guard and swipe official corporate ID card. Every workday after lunch I must endure said security guard inquire, “Back from lunch?” To which I exasperatedly reply, “Er, (awkward pause) yeah.” To which he then shouts out, “Naptime!” The worst part (and the part that got me sent to the electric chair after being convicted of his murder) is that he then does the whole damn song and dance with people coming in from lunch behind me. There are 300 people in my building. I rest case.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Hack Attack

3:13pm- Wear frumpy sweater to work. Look like woman of a certain age who has given up on self after nasty divorce. Become invisible to coworkers and rest of society. Fade off into oblivion.

7:44pm- Go out for monthly Special Dinner with boyfriend at Maharani. Order something loaded up with dry, twiggy herbs which have propensity for embedding selves right around epiglottal area. Start to gag like cat on fur ball. Mucus created from mixture of spices and herbal obstruction blocks windpipe.

Other than that, pretty good day.

That Will Teach Him (Not To Date Psycho)

9:49am- In fight with boyfriend, asked to back car out of garage so he can drive off in his own car and hate me elsewhere. So mad while backing up hill, realize if I take foot off brake I can ram right into guardrail and make him feel responsible for death. So I do.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Unbalanced Meal

7:06pm- Eat strangest dinner ever: 3 strips turkey bacon / 1 handful pomegranate seeds. Body self-destructs.

Other than that, pretty good day.

On Golden Pond Of Blood

9:02am- Driving to work after visit to chiropractor. Gigantic semi next to me going exact same speed. Makes me nervous. Try to speed up, truck speeds up. Try to slow down, truck slows down. While I try to figure out new tactic, get distracted, crash into car in front of me.

5:15pm- Stop by Sharper Image after work to buy gift for Toys For Tots fundraising event. Man who rings me up then walks me to door, opens it for me and says, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Jane Fonda at her best?” Flattered, walk out of store with extra spring in step where I am then shot by angry Vietnam vet mistaking me for Hanoi Jane.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Who Dunnit This Time?

7:34pm- Attend friend's birthday party with Murder/Mystery theme. You can guess how that turned out.

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Good Die Young

7:47pm- Find out that first love, the one I gave a high five to after losing our respective virginities, has passed away after 8 year battle with cancer. A little piece of heart dies with him, causing whole heart to fail. I’ll really miss you, Brian. You were such a wonderful person.

Other than that, pretty crappy day overall.

Sleep Tight

12:55pm- Take ½ Xanax on flight from Cleveland to Chicago and then a whole one on flight from Chicago to Oakland. Extra dosage causes me to pass out cold. Have that "fake wake" sensation over and over, but can’t propel self back into consciousness.

Other than that, pretty good day.

It's Not Heavy, Says My Father

10:43am- Am asked by 69 year old father to help carry heavy new chair up to bedroom. Start to remind him of recent and expensive chiropractic appointments, but remember that he is almost septuagenarian, while I am spry young thing. Lift with legs and take single step upstairs. Muscles seize. Chair falls back down upon me. Crushed.

8:31pm- Spend grueling day sitting in recliner going through all my papers, handouts, notebooks, files, folders and syllabi from school days gone by. Realize even I’M not interested in this crap. Toss everything except bag full of notes passed to me in high school, all just basically imploring me to stay cool. Don’t leave chair for 5 hours. Blood clot.

Other than that, pretty good day.

It's Greek To Me

4:15pm- Make visit to college sorority sister, husband and newish baby. Am asked to prepare hamburger meat for evening’s dinner. Raw meat traps self under nails awaiting transport to mouth where it can really do some damage.

8:18pm- Concerned that my drive to their house was through supposed bad neighborhood I failed to notice, friends direct me home via what I can only assume to be “white route.” Promptly get lost. Jumped by upper middle class business man in need of a thrill.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Trashed

11:14am- Previously asked by mother to make this the trip where I go through left-behind things and discard what is no longer important. Discover she has already thinned the herd considerably. Basically everything I would have cared about has been pre-tossed (tapes of college radio shows I DJ’d, all furniture old enough to be cool, books given to me by long-deceased grandfather). Luckily copious amounts of high school sweatshirts have been spared. Go into blind rage spinning and spewing venom, screaming at top of lungs. Parents have no choice but to taser me. Cardiac arrest. Boy don’t they feel guilty now.

12:05pm- Hang with mom and high school best friend at Goldie’s Deli, where I waitressed for a summer back in college. Order tabbouleh in honor of my first ever having it at this exact restaurant. Putting the lemon-saturated, parsley-based side dish to lips transports me back to simpler days. Body implodes. Humans not meant for time travel just yet.

8:02pm- 3rd degree colorectal burns. On whole, Ohio needs more fiber.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Cornucopia Of Gluttonous Behavior

6:05am- Take off for very, very, very early flight back to Cleveland to celebrate Thanksgiving with the folks. What a good headline it makes to have plane crash on major holiday. People are glued to their TV sets for weeks.

3:45pm- Arrive in Cleveland and am immediately whisked home to a table full of savory engorgements. OD on tryptophan.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Dared To Dream

1:12pm- Decide to “work from home” for afternoon, which is basically just cleverly disguised ploy to escape from boring beige office space. Get home and immediately fall asleep watching Tivo-ed Oprah’s. In my dreams, band of co-workers hunt me down and torch house while I slumber. And just like in “Nightmare on Elm St.,” if you die in your sleep, you die for real.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Bathed In Bacteria

10:03am- Time for another every-few-months houseclean. Am forced to confront the slimy sludge caught up in sink drain stopper. Try to shield skin from sludge with paper towel, but toxins seep in and do their worst. Blood squirts from eyes. Froth dribbles from lips. Boyfriend finds me lying on ground and rolls his eyes before discovering lack of pulse.

10:54am- In another moment of housecleaning discomfort, decide to tackle kitchen trashcan lid. As I scrub and scrape a befouled plastic lid, flip through mental rolodex of all things thrown out in past year. Conclusion: collective infection rate VERY high.

1:01pm- As treat for good job on house, boyfriend and I do caloric splurge at Joe’s Cable Car Restaurant for burger, fries and the most delicious of chocolate malts. Snarfing my shake with abandon, am victim of esophageal freeze.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Toga! Toga!

7:01pm- Invited to attend surprise 50th birthday party for boyfriend’s cousin. Oh yeah, and it’s toga-only. After getting into the mood shopping for attire, walk into party and quickly realize toga parties only fun when one knows other attendees at said party. Will self to dissipate in puff of smoke not 10 seconds after unsuccessfully scanning room for familiar faces.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Thirst Quencher

6:12pm- Defrost chicken, setting package on top of case of Diet Dr. Pepper in fridge. Package compromised sending cascade of raw chicken juice down over each and every can of pop. Even with a vigorous scrub, still manage to ingest enough poultry juice to down a cadre of legionnaires.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Watch Where You Walk

8:54am- Walking to work on Howard St. Hear the clip-clop, clip-clop of girl walking at similar pace right behind me. Creeped out, I begin to walk faster. She begins to walk faster. Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Whap! Fade to black.

5:32pm- An older gentleman with cane is attempting to exit the 9BX bus. Gaze over as he makes way ably down first step. Lose interest in his progress, then hear a noise. I look out. The old man is prone on the hard cement. Cane a-skittered. Grocery bags mish-mashed about his frame. He rocks side to side trying to upright himself, mouth shaped in an O of surprised humiliation. As it registers in my head to get off bus and help him, doors close unceremoniously and we drive away. Damned to hell.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Lard Ass

12:02pm- After a year of trusting my brokerage account to an Ameriprise advisor I met at a burger joint called Clown Alley, portfolio is as limp as a non-Vlasic pickle. As if living during Black Friday, decide to jump out office window in despair. Window only one story off ground. Am not making good decisions.

5:16pm- Take stick of butter out of fridge. Realizing it has been in there for over year, give it tentative sniff. Not smelling much offensive, dart tongue out to lick exposed end. Instant death.

Other than that, pretty good day.

You Are What You Eat

3:03pm- Standing in line at grocery checkout, am asked by clerk to identify mystery vegetable on conveyor belt. Before I can answer, clerk behind me shouts out, “That’s Anus!” My preference for calling it anise is overruled as I am subjected to E. coli exposure.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Excuse Me For Being Biodegradable

11:14am- The overwhelming throngs of nuevo-hippies at SF Green Festival cause me to rudely elbow way past demonstration for hemp-infused sports drink/alternative fuel source. Crowd becomes self-righteous. After bludgeoning me to pulp, am stuffed into compost bin for socially responsible waste removal.

5:23pm- Turn on TV to see commercial for "Edward Scissorhands, The Musical." Immediately put on pair of 3-D glasses and impale self on lead character’s razor sharp phalanges.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Over The Shoulder Boulder Holders

12:04pm- Having bought into Oprah’s claim that 8 out of 10 women are wearing wrong-sized bra, make trip to Nordstrom’s to get fitted by expert. Find out in fact I have been wearing RIGHT-sized bra all along. Due to buxom size, get suckered into buying underwire, which I already know bugs shit out of me. Wear pretty, new, overpriced bra to work. Punctured repeatedly throughout day by underwire, with one final, fatal Crocodile-Hunter type blow topping the cake.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Don't Rock This Way

10:23pm- Perform at event thrown by the nude-hose-and-button-down-oxford-wearing contingency of my old company. As if that’s not bad enough, witness man doing the “Cabbage Patch” to one of our songs. Make sacrificial stage dive knowing full well I will not be caught.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Mirror, Mirror Not In Fall

12:56pm- Go for easy hike to see Mirror Lake, which supposedly reflects the Washington Column and South Half Dome upon its placid surface. Discover that by fall, lake has thoroughly evaporated. Exhausted from trek and with head bowed down from disappointment, make easy prey for ravenous coyotes.

10:01pm- Attend gorgeous wedding for dear friend at Yosemite Chapel. Generous bride and groom then provide shuttles to reception at Ahwahnee Hotel at 5pm with drop off back at Yosemite Lodge, our place of inhabitance, at 10pm. In between it’s 5 straight hours of drinking from an open bar. Rack up about one blood alcohol point for every hour, and fail to factor in affects of altitude. Paramedics don’t even try to revive me.

Other than that, pretty good day.

No Such Thing As Routine Exam

9:06am- Sit patiently in waiting room at UCSF Mt. Zion Medical Center, ready to receive x-rays on my long-suffering back. Over the loudspeaker, a woman disrupts in the calmest of voices, “Code Blue, Operating Room, A Level. Code Blue, Operating Room, A Level.” I look up at the waiting room sign, which now curiously says: Operating Room, A Level. Team of doctors come rushing at me with defibrillator paddles. Before I know what’s happening, loudspeaker woman cuts in again, “Cancel Code Blue.” Doctors walk away shaking their heads with dispair at the unfairness of it all. How could this happen to someone so young? How?

5:02pm- Asked by receptionist of Yosemite Lodge in Yosemite National Park at check-in if I am ‘Bear Aware.’ I am not.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Thirst Quencher

8:53am- Drive car to work and am asked to squeeze diminutive Miata into tight spot. Challenged, I gear up to make turn only to see water bottle filled with urine right where tire must go. What to do? I can’t get out and TOUCH it! Having no choice, run it over while expertly gliding into spot. Sound of plastic giving way and spray of liquid contained inside provokes gag reflex. As I exit car, urine puddle seems to wink at me while awaiting descension of my foot. I try to hop across, but slip, fall and knock self out. Left to drown in 2 inch puddle of bum piss.

8:14pm- Pick up what I will never know to be most delicious Burmese tea salad I would have ever eaten from Yamo’s on 18th & Mission. While walking back to car with boyfriend, witness truck screeching away from a scene with gaggle of gang members chaotically running after it. Gun fire rings out. Boyfriend turns to see me and takeout bag lying on ground. He picks up bag, raises fist to sky and screams, “Noooooooooooooooo!”

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Last Word, Gurgled

11:45am- Drive up to Napa to celebrate friend’s birthday. Hit by driver drunk on full-bodied Cab with notes of creosote and raspberry jam.

7:47pm- Engage in annual Halloween-time argument with boyfriend. Stab self in neck and gut to spite him. Take that!

Other than that, pretty good day.

So Long, Dream

7:02pm- Wait for bus that never comes. Walk back to house to get car. Drive through unruly, infuriating traffic. Circle block after block looking for parking. Aneurysm.

8:29pm- Hear that friend’s awesome t-shirt company, Mothership is no more. My dream of lounging on beach in early retirement made possible from millions earned coming up with witty saying for him dies.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Quietly Slipping Away

3:12pm- As penance for being an opinionated woman, contract spasmodic dysphonia, the rare vocal disease recently enjoyed by Dilbert cartoon creator, Scott Adams. My silent shouts for help go unaided.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Grabbin' Some Permanent Shut Eye

12:34pm- Spot dirty pillow abandoned in a gutter on Howard St. Decide there’s no time like present to take much-deserved nap. Cozy up to blackened sack of polyester fill only to be run down by curb-hugging Chevy Corvette.

Other than that, pretty good day.

A Taste Of Heaven

10:11pm- Boyfriend takes me out fancy to Grand Café. Feeling saucy, indulge by ordering dessert. I crack top of Crème Brule and place hardened sugar coating in mouth. It’s as if chomping down on entire packet of Exacto blades. Bleed out.

Other than that, pretty good day.

It Was Up To You, New York

10:14am- Looking to outdo breakfast from previous morning, consume not one, but TWO decadent cupcakes from Magnolia’s, a bakery featured in that awesome SNL film short with Andy Sandberg. Blood sugar levels surge like Great Tsunami of 2004.

10:15am- Sitting on park bench with boyfriend watching small child give mother extremely hard time. He looks over at me and says, “Momma, she’s eating a cupcake,” to which I reply with a sneer, “Yes, unlike you, I can eat cupcakes whenever I want!” Mother shoots me daggers with impressive accuracy.

1:43pm- Walk around and around and around Manhattan until feet pool with bruised blood. Healthy environment for clotting.

4:11pm- Get caught up watching street performers in Washington Square Park. Pickpocketed and then shived when I attempt protest.

5:01pm- Get into elevator at Penn Station on way back to Newark airport. People crowd in so tight that there is hardly room to breathe. Luckily conveyance plummets down from weight killing us all instantly before I have time to suffocate.

7:45pm- While stuck waiting for delayed boarding of flight, panic attack starts to brew. Suddenly, my heart feels warm. Then it is inflamed. I crawl to floor and put head in lap. I took too many Xanax! I didn’t take enough! I don’t know what’s going on except I’m having heart attack. Boyfriend looks on.

7:54pm- Learn how to fly the planes, pilots! Learn how to fly the goddamn planes!

Other than that, pretty good day.

If I Can Die Here, I Can Die Anywhere

9:49am- Wake up in the city that never sleeps. Decide a breakfast of pistachio nut and white chocolate pancakes with a side of BBQ beef brisket from Shopsin’s General Store is the perfect way to start day. Am forced to endure conversation of self-consumed hipsters nearby. When one declares, “I’m not yet comfortable referring to myself as an artist,” chunk of brisket gets lodged fully in windpipe. Unfortunately for me, he is also not yet comfortable referring to himself as Heimlich maneuverer.

11:01am- Walk down to Ground Zero where I intend to feel properly somber and reflective. Am met instead by street hawkers offering faux designer sunglasses and handbags along with small photo books of 9/11 tragedy. Anger begins burbling down at my toes. It then courses up through body with intensifying speed until reaching top of head where it explodes out of me like a fat man from a circus canon.

12:33pm- Wait in line for Statue of Liberty tour. Flash back to days when ancestors perhaps stepped foot upon this very spot to make fresh start in new world. Imagine self as rejected immigrant, forced to return on boat from which I came. During journey am consumed by scurvy. To make matters worse, don’t even go on stupid Statue of Libery tour because of timing issues.

4:13pm- Not yet ready for more food, but feeling pressured to make most of time here, wait in line outside of John’s Pizzeria for what I’m told is best pizza in city. Don’t necessarily die and go to heaven, but maybe because I am agnostic.

5:47pm- Partake of nap from which I never awake.

Drunk o’clock pm- Go to following bars and random food establishments: Manitoba’s, Fish Bar, CBGBs (just outside though since it’s last weekend and sold out), Welcome to the Johnson’s, Bamn! Automat (try the mac-n-cheese kroket), The Library, Dumpling Man, Burp Castle, McSorley’s. At end of evening, barely able to see straight, step off curb to dance with magical yellow braying donkey. Or is that a speeding cab? *hic*

Other than that, pretty good day.

Start Spreading The News...Of My Demise

8:34am- Flight to NYC. Xanax causes me to pass out before even taking off meaning body does not pressurize correctly. At cruising altitude, I awake and explode like giant squid brought to the ocean’s surface.

3:12pm- Land in New Jersey, the nation’s armpit. Confused by fact that both New York and New Jersey have Penn Stations, get on train to wrong one. Jumped by members of Bon Jovi cover band.

4:29pm- Find way to real Penn Station. Step outside into mad rush that is New York City. Eek! Too excited to be here. Step off curb. Run down by cab.

9:02pm- Go out to dinner with boyfriend at Villa Mosconi, a place he claims has the best gnocchi he’s ever eaten. Having resigned self to fact that diet is on vacation-hiatus, stuff face with everything put in front of me, including hand of over-attentive waiter. Appalled, but quick on his feet, waiter impales me with sharp bony arm stump.

Other than that, pretty good day.

I Yam What I Yam

5:26pm- Cram self onto 9BX bus. Barely room to stand and forget about holding onto anything. Am pushed up almost against front window. Express onto highway where sudden stop sends me through window. But only ½ way. Ouch.

7:10pm- Make meal consisting of Shirataki, my new favorite low-carb yam noodles. What could be more delicious than that? How about yammy yam noodles with spaghetti sauce so I can fool self that I’m not letting down the people who bestowed upon me an Italian surname? Maybe so. What’s not delicious is discovering very sever allergic reaction.

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Nail In My Coffin

11:43am- Typically paying little attention to things that grow from me, such as hair and nails, am shocked to discover the middle finger of my right hand growing what can only be described as a snagglenail. A fungal culture reveals I’m afflicted with terminal case of onychomycosis.

5:11pm- Walk past homeless man on Howard St. Hear him grumble, “It’s time,” as he passes me. Then, everything goes black.

6:36pm- Cook up delicious piece of chicken. Halfway through consumption, discover bloody vein. Campylobacteric food poisoning topped with a soupcon of utter disgust.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Check The Date

7:17pm- Purchase what I think is new package of chicken apple sausage. Upon opening freshness pouch, I discover copious amounts of slime. The end of one link forms what looks like the resevoir tip of a used condom. Without other options, I decide to rinse off meat and proceed with intended meal. Mistake.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Culture Clash

1:55pm- Visit recently reopened De Young museum. Try to marvel at all the spectacular and culturally significant art pieces, but after shuffling from room to room to room, slip into museum coma. After about 20 minutes of unconsciousness, boyfriend totally Terry Schiavo's me.

1: 57pm- Contract case of human African trypanosomiasis licking Kenyan tribal mask.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Sit Down, Stand Up, Flight Flight Flight

8:42am- Give up seat on bus to woman and small child only because bus makes sudden stop and they practically fly into my lap at which point even my iPod/sunglasses/scowl combination isn't enough to feign ignorance of their existence. Stand up and bus makes another sudden stop sending me sailing out window.

11:02am- Walk into work bathroom and inevitably choose the poop stall, the one most recently pooped in. It's almost like I have special selection powers for such a thing. You would think over time it would boost my immunity to giardiasis. But it doesn't.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Google Or Die

9:58am- Inability of other people to Google for themselves instead of emailing me to ask “what’s the address/phone number/PH balance of so-and-so” causes brain hemorrhage.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Watch Where You Sit

10:07am- First documented case of strep throat of the vulva from sitting on uncovered toilet seat after watching Myth Busters episode where they tested germs on various surfaces in the house and found toilet seats to actually be cleanest by far. Guess you can’t believe everything you see on TV.

1:02pm- Walking back to work, stomach seizes with gas cramps (which has been happening daily since starting this new assignment due to the fact that the bathroom is never, ever, EVER empty). Stop in at local Starbucks and create my own ass frappacino. Infected with non-spinach-based e. coli.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Shitty Way To Die

8:32am- Usually when I wait for the bus in the morning several pass me by that I don’t want. I used to take a step back to indicate I wasn’t interested in their services. Today I want to test theory to see just how little effort I have to put in to keep them from stopping. I try looking aloof and buses pass by without even slowing down. It is unsettling. Seriously. Like Bruce Willis in “Sixth Sense.”

8:55am- Walking down Howard, see massive crane on construction site lifting three port-a-potties at once high above my head. Before I can register the possibilities, potties drop, crushing me and spilling poop all over my innocent form.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Much Shorter And Deadlier In Person

3:32pm- Hear that Ben and Jerry Stiller (not to be confused with Ben & Jerry ice cream) movie is being filmed nearby. Stand by tree which I believe to be in "safe zone." After yelling 'rolling,' a best boy annoyidly waves me out of frame. Embarrassed, but determined to see Ben, I push in front of the two women standing near me saying, “excuse me, I’m trying to watch the shot.” They look at each other and then back at me. One woman says, “um, yeah, we’re in the film,” at which point Ben comes raging down the street and gives it to me Dodgeball style.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Why I Hate Folsom Street

12:12pm- Walk through streets during Folsom Street festival. Gay men clad in leather buttless chaps or nothing at all. Sweaty, stinky, hairy men. I can’t begrudge them since it's entirely their scene and I paid money to be here. One nipple-clamped man accidentally knocks into me full on with furry matted chest hair to my cheek. I faint, swoon and fall headfirst into shallow pool of beer, rainwater and urine. Drown.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Love Fest ‘Til Death Do Us Part

5:09pm- Attend Love Fest with its scant costumes, slick dance moves, and pumping bass. The DJ float I choose to dance in front of has the sickest, baddest, bassiest speaker systems. I become victim of the brown note.

11:21pm- Way past tolerance, decide to partake of friend’s special Love Fest brownies. Unbeknownst to me, they are laced not only with pot but with Ecstasy. Last time I took Ecstasy it caused a minor coronary. This time it is major. Kids, don’t do drugs.

11;44pm- Scarf North Beach pizza with vengeance, careful to separate cheese from crust in order to stick to half-assed attempts at Adkin’s diet. While trying to cram oversized bolus of sun-dried tomato, garlic, pepperoni and basil-speckled cheese down throat, choke. Unable to expel.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Chew On This

5:03pm- On way home from work walk passed woman wearing the checked pants and white coat typical of a chef in training. Woman is so obese, am accidentally engulfed into the folds of her pannus, where I promptly suffocate. My dying words of wisdom to her were this: Judging solely from your girth, perhaps a career in the culinary arts is one to be avoided.

5:24pm- I hate the bus. And I hate all who ride the bus. Due to new job, I now get one midway through route, so there are no seats and people are pushy and usually smell unclean. Today as I stand before an older woman shielding her eyes from the sun, I realize I have the power to block the rays for her with my shadow. Imperialistic feelings of power surge through me. I benevolently block the sun until she feels confident enough to take her hand away from her eyes and then I quickly lean to the right exposing her vulnerable corneas to the incandescent light. My reign is short-lived. Soon the townspeople of Busville revolt and I am decapitated, my head displayed on a spiked pole for all to see and pelt.

7:33pm- Boyfriend kindly picks up Thai food for dinner. As I dine on flavorful chicken satay, come across chewy, uncooked and highly offensive piece of poultry. Salmonella sets in quickly.

8:06pm- After all my obsession and pining for Crocodile Hunter, laugh at joke Norm MacDonald makes about his death on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. The spirit of Steve Irwin abducts me. Am banished to pit of hellfire.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Take THAT, Other Ad Bands!

8:44am- Am menaced by trucks as I drive in to work. They flank me on the highway and then all at once merge in towards me. I pop like a freshly burst zit.

10:03am- Sit across from guy in meeting who looks like an old friend of mine whom I miss. As I think back wistfully to all the good times we had, the doppelganger turns his head towards me like Large Marge in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. Terrified beyond measure.

12:33pm- Gag on Tandoori chicken grizzle. Seriously, I hate that! It’s like Russian roulette even eating that shit.

3:41pm- Am mandatorily invited to attend two-hour long brand/advertising guidelines discussion for major financial investment firm. Halfway through, stop breathing. Sweet release.

4:12pm- Pass poster in hallway featuring Cindy Crawford. She is asking me to help her in the fight against blood cancer. BLOOD cancer? Holy shit, people can get that? Oops, guess so.

9:43pm- Stepping out to play a show, wear new Isaac Mizrahi boots from Target. So excited to find boots to fit fat calves, bought two pair: one black, one brown. Already, by the beginning of our set, feel as though I am standing with feet between dual vice-grips—a maniacal sadist working the cranks. The cranks turn and turn until my bones are crushed sending calcium-fortified shrapnel through bloodstream.

11:57pm- What is up with these mother fucking trucks? On way home from winning Point Roll’s highly esteemed 1st Annual Battle of the Advertising Bands competition (staged at Great American Music Hall no less—where I have seen great bands such as The Ravonettes, The White Stripes and Max Weinberg and the Weinberg 7, the last one being a lie), am again flanked by trucks. Trying to merge onto 101-S, get caught between four of the 18 wheels of an 18-wheeler.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Clown In The Potty

8:12am- After deciding to resume some semblance of exercise routine, step out into the world eager for walk to the bus stop. Searing pain shoots through toe and up leg. Apparently after last night’s brisk 3-mile walk, I severed a tendon or something. I drop to ground writhing in pain and am hit by car speeding down Campbell Street. So much for a healthy lifestyle.

10:49am- Walk into work bathroom and am startled to find myself standing face to face with a bona fide clown. Not sure if this is some sort of corporate motivational experiment, I honk her big, red plastic nose. She then gives me the world’s longest swirlie until I stop the struggle.

12:34pm- Sitting in atrium of the Rincon Center finishing off the delicious shewerma platter that I pretty much get every day now from Arabi. An explosive sound erupts above the food court chatter. The ground shakes violently. Turns out that while an employee was trying to push it back to wherever it lives, a leg from the noon-time piano fell off and said piano has smashed to the ground. Too late for me, however. Convinced of a terrorist attack, I am blown to bits. My image and likeness is then used by GOP to sweep November elections.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Crane Drops Falling On My Head

8:44am- Walking to work, giant crane swings swiftly above head. Construction worker operating controls chooses this time to end his life in order to provide family with money from insurance policy. I have the misfortune of being caught beneath his heft after plummet.

5:02pm- Walk beneath a window washing apparatus empty and only two stories above my head. Pulley system fails. Crushed, but remain alive until workers come to extract me. Then I bleed out.

5:31pm- Rampant bus germs on my hand. That’s all I’ve gotta say.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Filth Frenzy

8:57am- On walk to work am confronted by fresh bum poop clinging halfway up links of a now-befouled fence. Airborne contaminants seek refuge in my nostrils before defeating my immune system.

12:33pm- Am directed to lunch spot named Julie’s Kitchen for a more upscale buffet option. Load up on meats. Choke on deadly combination of dry sliced turkey breast and pea shoots. Thos shoots get me every time.

3:33pm- Shoot self in head due to monotony of day job.

5:32pm- Riding 9BX home from work. Spot child with soil of some brown sort covering nose and mouth. Convinced, in addition to being disgusting to look at, it must be infectious. It is.

5:35pm- Still on bus. Woman next to me is holding her requisite pink plastic grocery bag, compliments of some Chinatown vendor. The bag twitches and rattles. I hear chirps and tweets and then a rustling of feathers. Bird flu, anyone?

Other than that, pretty good day.

Put A Cap In It

9:46pm- Play show at 23 Club in Brisbane. Halfway through 2nd song, cops bust through saloon doors. I hit the deck, afraid they’ll start shooting up the place. Confused by my reaction, they start shooting up the place.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Out Of Breath

11:13am- Committed to exercising more often. Take hike up Coit Tower with boyfriend. Near top, chest explodes.

1:55pm- Invited to big island of Hawai’i by old college friend currently living there. Having just read “Krakatoa” and being really into plate tectonics, I jump at the chance. Before I can even check into flight costs, freak volcanic eruption occurs right here in San Francisco where North American plate and Pacific plate are converging, even though the subduction zone is more volatile and prone to eruptions up in Northwest near Mt. Saint Helen, Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, Mt. Adams and Lassen Peak. Go figure.

11:58pm- As I drift off to bed reading guidebook for April trip to Egypt, I glance down at all the strange blue veins just beneath my skin. I flick one with my finger and like a sprung coil, they all unravel and burst from my body.

Other than that, pretty good day.

A Killer Personality

9:09am- Read how doctors have discovered a Type D personality. Type Ds are more prone to cardiac events. Peruse list of Type D traits and mentally tick off every one before having my own event.

5:14pm- Take crowded 9AX bus home. Woman next to me stands with her moist nostrils dangerously close to my hand. She huffs and snorts like a horse, forcibly embedding bacteria into my skin. I fail to get home quick enough to wash it away.

7:08pm- Pressure in back of throat signals advanced stage throat cancer. I eschew indignity of stoma for quick death.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Peek-A-Boom

6:06pm- Get off bus after work and walk past a man I can see with a glance is filled with evil. He attempts to talk to me. My reply, “We have no business to speak of,” is met with a hearty laugh. I look down and he is holding my still-beating heart in his gore-splattered mitt.

9:22pm- Pull out of driveway at practice studio. Parked SUV blocks view and car behind me has brights on just to be a jackass. Inch out to see if coast is clear. It decidedly is not. Am rammed into by a honking, but not slowing semi. Disintegrate upon impact.

Other than that, pretty good day.

R.I.P. Steve Irwin

10:11am- Hear about death of Steve Irwin. Shocked to death.

1:02pm- Obsessed with the death of Steve Irwin. Imagine myself being lanced by stingray. Have fatal psychosomatic reaction.

4:56pm- Still can’t stop thinking about Steve Irwin. Mind swims in continuous loop. I think about the moment of death. I think about his daughter being told. I can’t stop obsessing. Not even to eat or drink.

11:34pm- Startle myself awake and remember about Steve Irwin. Look to my right and see stingray floating up from underneath bed. Zap!

Other than that, pretty good day.

Labor To The Death

3:49pm- Invite lovely friends over for celebratory Labor Day picnic. Good times and salmonella are rampant.

9:06pm- Watch the movie “Dead Man” and suddenly there is an opportunity for Jim Jarmusch to do a sequel.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Write Fright

11:00am- Walk into Book Passage in Corte Madera to attend 4-day Travel Writing workshop. So nervous, barf down front of shirt and pants and subsequently choke on the remainder.

6:13pm- Eat dinner at table with author, Michael Shapiro, and 5 co-participants. Sit next to older man who refers to himself as a troglodyte. Not having heard this word for epochs, am shocked when he produces club and bludgeons me for meat.

9:02pm- While watching writing legends Tim Cahill and Amy Tan discuss “Cultures in Transition” and how this topic relates to travel writing, realize I am squished into the furthest nook of a room packed with eager students. The only way out is to run screaming while stepping over bodies, or to break a thick glass with shoe. Opt for shoe/glass breaking and sever most major veins as well as arteries in the process. So much for bathroom breaks in this place.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Happy Deathday

7:04am- Am shocked to discover I have made it to another birthday. So shocked, it stops my heart.

8:19pm- Sweet boyfriend takes me to Le Colonial for dinner. Waiter fails to show in timely fashion to take order. Die of starvation while staring at delicious meals being served to surrounding diners.

Other than that, pretty good day.

I Never Made It To My 32nd Birthday

11:02pm- Getting so drunk at your birthday celebration that you start rolling around on Sadie’s Flying Elephant’s pool table gets you kicked out of the bar. Stumbling into the street to hail what you think is a cab, gets you hit by a car.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Wishy-washy Neighbor

Who washes their car out in the street at midnight on a Monday night? That’s right, my new neighbor. And who apparently doesn’t like to be confronted about it? If you said my new neighbor, right again.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Flesh Buffet

10:47am- Wake up with what I think is signature Vegas Hangover®. Turns out to be mass dehydration coupled with healthy dose of aneurysm. 11 o'clock check out time does nothing to save me.

11:49am- Meet friends at Mandalay Bay’s Bay Side Buffet. Sit next to freshly married couple and family having wedding reception. Attempt to sneak piece of wedding cake as part of my gluttonous champagne breakfeast. Am gored with cake knife by mother of bride.

2:02pm- Mesmerized by “Bodies – The Exhibition” at Tropicana. Having recently read Mary Roach’s “Stiff” about cadavers and plastination process, feel compelled to really get up in there and examine every muscle fiber and strand of sinew. Immersed in the experience, am distracted enough not to notice body snatcher come up behind me. Bound, gagged, and flayed for next day’s presentation.

4:19pm- Back at Desert Passage Shops, indulge in foot massage being offered by roving band of masseurs. Nervous foot specialist will only look at me askance. I realize too late he is fetishist/serial killer.

7:33pm- As I try talking myself into having calm takeoff, plane bursts into flames on runway.

Other than that, pretty good day.

What Happens In Vegas Is Still Prosecutable

12:13pm- Head to pool at Luxor to relax and drink beer with friends. Oasis completely crowded and full of beautifully lotioned scenesters. Sensing discord, they swiftly descend to eliminate imposter.

1:11pm- Sun stroke.

3:06pm- Drive downtown to scout out lower table limits. Enter daiquiri bar and come upon confrontation between management and customer who was given extra shot of rum and then expected to pay for it. Fight ensues. Caught in middle. Bludgeoned with plastic cowboy-boot-shaped daiquiri container.

4:14pm- Agree to couple’s lap dance at local strip club. First documented case of fatal crabs.

11:06pm- End up drunk at craps table with too high a limit. Lose money quickly. Am forced to mortgage house I don’t own and college money for kids I don’t have. See too clearly how gambling has consumed life. Take cab to Stratosphere and jump off tower to assuage guilt for tarnishing family honor.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Luck Be A Faithful Lady

9:12pm- Here I am on plane again. Pilot depressed because flight to Vegas reminds him of third wife who married him at famous Little White Chapel and who then promptly slept with best man, officiate, and ring bearer. As we descend into the decedent city, he nosedives plane in despair.

9:38pm- After dropping friends off at Luxor, attempt to drive down Strip to get to our own hotel. Traffic unbearable. After ½ hour barely any progress is made. Forced to kill and eat boyfriend for sustenance. Once his body is consumed and my urine store is depleted, waste away a block from Aladdin.

10:24pm- Once at Aladdin (soon to be Planet Hollywood), am forced to navigate through ridiculously expansive Desert Passage Shops en route to registration desk. Not knowing how much further to casino entrance, accept ride from pedi-cab driver. He assures us it is still far walk and then not 30 yards from where he picked us up, he stops, unloads bags and holds out hand awaiting $5 and tip. Incensed, refuse payment and am quickly mobbed and massacred by 8 men wearing billowy Bedouin genie pants.

11:02pm- Meet up with friends for dinner and drinks at Zanzibar Café. Portions so large, and drinks so strong, slip into hedonistic coma.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Pork, The Other White Meat That Can Kill You

1:02pm- Plane crash.

2:59pm- Consume leftover, room-temperature pork mid-flight. Still delicious, even with trichinosis.

Other than that, pretty good day.

It's On My Mind, It's In My Mouth, It's Pork

3:12pm- Drive back to Raleigh. Get caught up in construction. Am staring at Mapquest directions while navigating orange barrels. Am still starting at Mapquest directions while striking orange barrels.

9:09pm- College friend and husband treat me to tantalizing BBQ smorgasboard. Drippy vinegary pulled pork. Crispity, crunchity fried chicken. Yummy, yummy hush puppies and french fries! All washed down with a stiff rum and coke. After meal, amble towards bathroom, trip over newborn daughter's pacifier. When I hit ground, stomach explodes like pinpricked balloon.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Sit. Sit. Good Dog.

4:15pm- Drive up to Charlotte, NC. Meet up with Aunt and Uncle for 4 hour lunch. Deep vein thrombosis.

6:33pm- Visciously attacked by dog owned by Chi Omega Lil' Sis. Guess that's payback for all the hazing.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Myrtle Beach Sux

12:03pm- “Ick. Ack. Uck! Myrtle Beach is so foul and overpopulated and full of chain stores and soulless, nutritionless megarestaurants where the waitstaff are trained to upsell at all costs. This is NOT a vacation destination people! It is a humid cesspool that attracts unthinking land rats willing to accept the cliché of what a vacation destination should be.” – This was speech given during 2nd day of my Myrtle Beach stay. I was subsequently dismembered by said land rats.

7:05pm- Meet up with old friend from grad school, her husband and new baby. I question them about choice to live in Myrtle Beach and suffer same fate as I did this afternoon.

8:37pm- With every restaurant claiming hour and a half wait, spot sign outside of strip club offering “full menu.” Force boyfriend to go inside to inquire (doesn’t take much prodding). While waiting, another potential patron spots me in car and his guilt of going to club for reasons other than meal without an hour and a half wait causes him to stick me in neck with prison shiv.

8:41pm- Not impressed with strip club’s full-menu offerings of chicken tenders and jalapeno poppers, settle for 120-Item Chinese buffet (curiously advertising itself with photos of sushi). Order red wine which is served elegantly in a wine glass with a straw. A straw! Laugh so hard wine travels up straw, out nose and onto neighboring diner who promptly beats my snobby-too-good-for-Myrtle-Beach ass in.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Everybody Out Of The Pool

11:32am- Wake up ready to relax by pool first morning in Myrtle Beach. First stop off at hotel restaurant to order breaded broccoli and cheese appetizer (in my college days we called them Dyna-Bites!) Arteries clog after third bite. Heart stops after fourth.

12:02pm- Snake way through not inconsiderable crowd to find one vacant chair by pool. Gaze towards swimming hole and am disgusted to see nothing but people, people, and more people and a small shimmer of what I think is murky pool water. Climb down ladder and squeeze self between vacationing bodies into the people-temperatured water. Immune system attacked by germs so copious and determined that no amount of chlorine would suffice.

1:30pm- Am forced to endure 56-year-old, Hilton-employed DJ spinnin’ all the hits fit for the masses. The Macarena, Electric Slide, some fucking song about football, and lots and lots of country (and not the good kind). Slip down into pool water between fat Midwesterner and fat Southerner and drown self. Not discovered until 5pm when hotel’s buffet service begins.

3:13pm- Come back to room to discover room service ordered late the night before still sitting in front of door even though room has been cleaned. Bend over to get closer look at remains of chicken dinner. Inhale moldy spore.

8:42pm- Have dinner with boyfriend and boyfriend’s client. Boyfriend’s very nice super-Christian, conservative southern client who believes Walmart employees are happy with their low pay and lack of benefits because they’re always smiling when he shops there. Bite tongue. Bleed out.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Pariah At The Piranha Exhibit

11:06am- Wake up and head over to place where eldest nephew is staying since he never came back night before after peeling out half-cocked. Knock on trailer door in area youngest nephew describes as “the total ghetto.” Kid who answers door is white, but wearing silver grill on his teeth and basketball t-shirt that goes down to knees. He mistakes me for narc and pops cap.

11:08am- Enter trailer and am introduced to another guy and 4 girls, two of which I find out later are only 14 but still spent whole night partying unsupervised. Am told oldest nephew is at store, so must remain in liquor-soaked trailer being stared at by girls overtly-hostile towards me. Youngest nephew tries to break ice by declaring, “she’s in a band.” Feel like oldest, uncoolest dork in world. One unfit to live.

11:32am- Oldest nephew in tow, head to aquarium to see pretty fish. Stick hand in supposedly hand-sticking-in-friendly tank, but pull back stump.

2:15pm- Head to beach. Go fishing off pier with nephews, using squid as bait. Look down at water and see school(?) of jellyfish floating by as well as man illegally fishing for shark. This recipe for disaster unfolds as such: nephew fake throws squid at me, I jump backwards, fall over railing, stung by unrelenting jellies, attacked by shark.

4:13pm- Driving to area community college to drop off nephew with grandmother before heading on to Myrtle Beach, SC, cut into lane of traffic in front of another macho pickup truck driver (this time hitch is ball-less). He sticks finger out window and pretends to shoot me to express his disapproval. Surprisingly, finger-gun is loaded.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Home, Sweet Murder Scene

11:03am- Drive to Middle-of-Nowhere, North Carolina to visit with nephews. On the way, get caught in fierce rainstorm. Swept off road by deluge.

4:24pm- Am greeted warmly by youngest nephew holding air rifle. Attempts to hug him hello sets off unfortunate chain of events. Actually, just one event: me getting shot.

4:25pm- Meet family dog, Rosie and assemblage of cats. Bend down to pet brood. Contract cat scratch fever.

4:26 (and 3:47)pm- Find out eldest nephew and his grandmother have argued causing nephew to drive off in fit, laying down impressive skid mark. Travel back in time to when he was laying it and get hit head on.

7:11pm- Go on walk with youngest nephew who points out many different animals in surrounding forest. Am ferociously attacked by pretty much all of them simultaneously. Well, except one benevolent squirrel.

7:32pm- Enjoy delicious meal of baked ziti. Soon after, develop case of explosive diarrhea. Dehydrate.

11:34pm- Graciously instructed to sleep alone in nephew’s grandmother’s room. As I drift off, her ex-husband busts in seeking revenge. Case of mistaken identity where the mistakee is impaled over 49 times with rusted hunting blade.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Do Your Balls Hang Low?

1:13pm- Another plane crash. Jesus, how many of these jumbo-sized, Insta-Kill® machines will I subject self to this year?

5:57pm- Arrive in Raleigh. Pick up rental car, merge onto highway. Immediately run off road by thick-necked driver of pickup truck sporting pair of dangling gold-plated testicles on back hitch.

6:04pm- Meet girlfriend’s cute new baby for first time. Imagine trying to give birth to something so large. Split open. Bleed out.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Security Threat

10:37am- While riding airport shuttle guy hits me in head with cane. I clock him good and am ambushed by Friends of the Disabled.

11:32am- Video monitor not fully bolted to ceiling of bus and guess who is sitting right underneath?

12:46pm- Walking through security gate at Reno Airport. ID checker is overweight, white-haired jokester. He high-fives a small child and tells a woman in front of me to “keep that smile goin’.” I scowl on principle, which causes him to question my threat-level. To be sure, he tasers me. I drop to ground. Heart stopped.

12:47pm- Not yet through security gate, ID checker busts into vociferous rendition of “Simply The Best.” He pounds his ample feet upon the ground to mimic Tina Turner’s drum line. This causes floor to give way and we end up ensconced by rubble in the arrivals area.

2:42pm- Plane crash.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Going Down

3:55pm- Take uncharacteristic hike on Vikingsholm trail. Slip during gravely descent and tumble down right into Lake Tahoe where I promptly drown. Beautiful views.

8:58pm- Riding down in Horizon hotel elevator, car unexpectedly jerks to stop and then drops a foot or two. It holds a few seconds before plunging us 12 floors to our death. I try jumping up at last minute to offset speeding descent, but find out too late tactic is myth.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Woman Overboard

6:30pm- Board Tahoe Queen for spin around lake. Overindulge on spirits. Slip on deck. Fall over guardrail. Lost at sea.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Fast Food Leads To Quick Death

7:41pm- Stop at In-N-Out Burger for quick bite on way to Tahoe to attend boyfriend’s company summer party. Sit next to dorky family discussing finer points of “animal style.” Mother cannot comprehend differences and insists on inspecting son’s burger. Overcome with laughing fit, snort soda up nose. Drown.

Other than that, pretty good day.

First And Last Day Of Rest Of My Life

11:59pm- Attend my well-attended going away party. Drink too much. Get in fight with boyfriend. Wander off to spite him. Murdered by enterprising cab driver.

Other than that, pretty good day.

55378008 Is Funny Upside Down

10:02am- In a moment of “why didn’t I think of that idea?” order tank top from friend’s hilarious t-shirt company, Mothership. Shirt has illustration of calculator on it with numbers, which if turned it upside down would spell “boobless.” Upon receipt, try it on and am stricken with breast cancer and rushed to hospital for mastectomy. Post-op, am only boobless for short time before I am then lifeless.

11:15am- Unsure exactly of how to make coffee for best friend with boyfriend’s even-mongoloid-stricken-monkeys-could-use-it coffeemaker, cause copious amounts of water to spill out sides of machine. Quickly pull out plug and then seeing I needed to seal top, seal top and plug cord back into wall. Electrocution.

11:16am- Afraid of electrocution from wet coffeemaker, plug plug back into wall and then jerk hand back involuntarily due to fear. Hand hits oversized wine goblet drying in dish rack. Goblet flies through air, lands in sink, sprays glass shrapnel into face and neck. Severed jugular.

1:14pm- Inspired by impending travel writing workshop at Book Passage, decide I have to be less shy and engage more strangers. When odd German inquires as to what my calculator tank top says, I indulge him by declaring, “Boobless!” He says (staring at ample bosom), “but I thought boobless means not having boob.” I attempt to explain concept of irony, but before that can occur he whisks me back to his rent-by-the-week studio apartment, strangles me and then sautés my boobs with butter and onions.

6:06pm- Have panic attack on way home from dropping best friend off at airport. Drive on angled, curving overpass and feel as if falling. Not only feel as if falling, fall.

6:10pm- After having Googled their physical whereabouts, go out of way to grocery store solely to buy Steak-umms. Purchase 5 boxes. Would have bought more, but am ashamed as is. Deliciously thin pressed meats combined with mixture of Velveeta and mozzarella cheese cause massive Ken-Lay-style heart attack.

6:45pm- Continuing with plan to talk to more strangers so I will make exceptional travel writer, get in discussion with check out clerk and fellow shopper about how too much water can actually kill you. Naive check out clerk is surprised. Then when fellow shopper says, “yeah, and I just saw that extra-strength Tylenol can cause uh, something bad,” I chime in with, “…your liver to fail,” and drop dead instantly from damage done from last one taken weeks prior.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Take This Job And Shove It

9:02am- Not having quit anything since Red Lobster, swallow ½ Xanax and promptly head into boss’s office to turn in two weeks notice. Step one foot into office and racing heart bursts from chest spraying boss with blood and chest cavity projectiles.

Other than that, REALLY good day.

Opa, I'm On Fire!

12:03pm- Go to Greek restaurant and order Saganaki, or to the unfamiliar, yummy flaming cheese. Saturated with alcohol from weekend’s activities, I also catch on fire.

4:13pm- Take off from Chicago Midway, land 1,300 ft. later in cornfield. Sad to miss fireworks.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Hola, Successful Ex-Boyfriend

1:12pm- Meet up with old college boyfriend and his really cool wife. Choke on bolus of enchilada’d chicken at Uncle Julio's Hacienda while attempting to appear wholly composed and mature.

3:44pm- Contract girlfriend’s son’s conjunctivitis.

4:12pm- Take girlfriend’s son to park. He runs out into speeding traffic. I chase after and shove him back to sidewalk at last minute as obnoxious Hummer runs over my legs and then backs up to finish the job.

Other than that, pretty good day.

How's The Me?

12:34pm- Attend Taste of Chicago. Find out that Chicago mostly tastes like sweaty overweight artery-clogged pasty people with hint of Bratwurst. Unknowingly sporting dollop of ketchup on cheek, am mistaken for food stall offering and consumed by fellow Taster.

12:56pm- Watch crowd-pleasing group called Xtreme Dive Team. They climb up 4-story tall ladder and dive into what reminds me of childhood friend’s smallish outdoor wading pool. Am somehow chosen as audience volunteer. Disregard mother’s advice to never dive into unfamiliar pool headfirst.

3:01pm- Standing on top of John Hancock building. Venture out to observation deck. Reach hand towards screen and lose balance. Plummet to death.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Vroooooom!

10:04pm- Cab driver takes corner like racecar driver. Sadly, driver he was emulating was Dale Earnhardt.

11: 43pm- Got head bitten off at infamous Chicago landmark, Weiner Circle. Apparently mistaken for hot dog.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Richard M. Daley Welcomes Me

8:15am- Crossing Bay Bridge on way to Oakland Airport. Steel beam works its way loose just in time to fall upon me as I drive by. Work crew giggles like you would when seeing someone trip on sidewalk crack. Just cruel.

9:02am- Walk through security gate at airport. Set off beepers. Overzealous new guy determined to make example of me. Tackles me to ground, kicks me until blood burbles from mouth and then tasers me. Weak heart fails. Fellow passengers miffed at delay. As I drift from this world I hear a man mutter, "I'm gonna miss my flight to Boise!"

10:02am- You know it's coming...Plane crash. Pilot error. Damn those drunk pilots.

5:13pm- Land in Chicago safe and sound. Get on El excited to see Windy City like local. Ask nice woman for clarification that I am on right train. She smells tourist on me and therefore grabs luggage and slices throat in one fell swoop.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Lesson Learned: Take The Bus

9:11am- Driving 101-N to dentist appointment. Wheel slips out of hand thanks to previous application of wonderfully scented hand cream brought back from Cape Heritage Hotel in South Africa. Hit median strip. Head flies through windshield. Body stays behind.

10:30am- Teeth clean, feeling fine. Driving through Broadway tunnel on way to work, get sideswiped by Land Rover. Drive partially up curved wall and plummet top down to pavement below. Squish.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Shameful Secret Revealed

9:41am- Have to admit that every time I receive Williams-Sonoma catalogue, I long to get married. Those kitchen gadgets are just too pricey without a registry. My fellow feminists forced to sacrifice me to the Double-Sided Fritatta Pan Gods.

4:01pm- Spend most of gorgeous Saturday inside setting up new computer and updating blog. Blood clot.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Just Like Daniel-san

7:33pm- Find first grey hair ever while ironically fashioning pigtails for night out with boyfriend. Aging process accelerated like Ralph Macchio's in "The Three Wishes of Billy Grier."

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Living Dead Kill Me

8:30pm- Go with friends to watch cheesy Greek zombie movie at Roxie. Even with simplistic plot-line, uninspired dialogue, and horrible special effects, scared to death.

11:03pm- Attacked by homeless zombie pretending to clean windshield as I get into car.

11:05pm- Pull up to red light and another homeless zombie attacks. This time by smashing her fist through passenger-side window, grabbing my neck and devouring my flesh.

11:11pm- Fail to stay far enough behind Swearvy McDrunkerson driving down 101-S.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Yoga Isn't Good For Your Health

11:42am- Determined to get in shape together, boyfriend and I attend yoga class. Ridiculously difficult pose causes arm to snap. Bone penetrates skin and due to contorted position, is able to pierce heart.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Three Hun-Dred Six-ty-Five De-grees

8:12pm- While watching Deadwood Season 2 with boyfriend, see flash of light pulse across sky. Not living in area where lightening storms are frequent, must be nuclear bomb.

11:38pm- Drunk boyfriend decides to make pasta to stave off tomorrow’s hangover. Single ravioli fails to make it in pot. Instead catches fire on burner before igniting kitchen and then entire house.

11:45pm- Drunk boyfriend leaves gas stove on. Once again, house engulfed by flames.

Other than that, pretty good day.

The Most Dangerous Room In The House

8:12am- Mirrored tile falls off bathroom wall while I sit unsuspectingly below drying hair. Scalp sliced to pieces spurting copious amounts of blood. Thinking hair just taking extra long to dry, keep blow drying until I bleed out.

8:15am- Wet hands + blow dryer plug = fried me

Other than that, pretty good day.

Is There No Justice?

3:13pm- Sudden shock from seeing that JM J. Bullock, Too Close For Comfort's Monroe, is old now.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Duck And Cover

8:54am- Riding bus to work minding own business. Suddenly, woman starts clipping her nails. Jagged clippings fly through air like shrapnel. I'm hit! I'm hit!

Other than that, pretty good day.

You Saw My Blinker, Bitch

3:04pm- Pick boyfriend up from airport. Also pick up case of Mad Cow disease. Never kiss a carnivore just back from Britian without first having him brush his teeth.

6:56pm- Meeting friends for Carnivale celebration in Mission District, but parking spots in short supply. See spot and put on blinker. Other car pulls up and acts as if to steal spot. Am able to swoop in before them. Shot in face not 10 seconds later.

Other than that, pretty good day.

No Need To Be Alarmed

3am- Entire time in Africa was spent with my too-complicated-to-figure-out wristwatch alarm going off at strange times. Forget to read manual upon return and am awaked for 4 nights straight at 3am. Get annoyed at self for forgetting and decide self does not deserve to live.

9:13am- Discover co-worker leading secret life. First he throws hot tea in my face. Then he administers tiny papercuts with an interoffice mail envelope. And then he makes me sit at desk writing copy for Microsoft until brain swells to capacity. Luckily, I have too much training at this so I survive. He is forced to finish the job by suffocating me with leftover bagels from Bagel Monday.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Time To Make The Doughnuts

7:15am- Wake up to full-blown depression at being back and about to return to work. Refuse to leave bed and with boyfriend gone, no one is there to feed me.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Home Again, Home Again Jiggety-Jig

8:16am- Boyfriend gallantly escorts me to airport via Tube, even carrying heaviest bags. Heart breaks at thought of leaving him and putting an end to such a fabulous trip. Then he says something to annoy me and I speed off towards security piquing curiosity of guard. Tackled to ground and knifed in kidney for good measure.

10:10am- Same old story: Plane takes off. Plane crashes.

3:15pm- Land in San Francisco with still most of day to unwind. Allow friend to drive me in my own car back to city so that I am not confused after 10 hour flight and 3 weeks of driving on opposite side of road. We start laughing about something or another and she swerves into oncoming traffic.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Queen For A Day

7:08am- Arrive in jolly old London eager to revisit in one day a city I spent 3 months exploring in college. In line for customs, am beaten by Bobby bored and angry he can't carry gun.

8:00am- Don't mind gap.

10:48am- Unable to check into hotel room, head for British Museum. Witness Viking battle reenactment. Caught unaware by misdirected mace.

10:59am- Stumble upon Rosetta Stone. Literally. Am crushed.

12:13pm- Boyfriend talks me into eating at McDonald's. Yes, this is same boyfriend who still will not purchase cell phone on principle. Shamed to death.

1:56pm- Take a ride on Eye of London. Able to see most of city from the oversized Ferris-wheel. Near top, capsule struck by distracted bird flying home with mouthful of worms. Startled, I hit emergency door and plummet down into garbage-fouled Thames. Am lost among refuse. Body never recovered.

3:44pm- Revisit bar where 10 years ago I foolishly took hit off of stranger's pipe-of-unknown-substances and fell to ground seizing. Reenact experience for boyfriend, but this time am not so good at regaining consciousness.

9:47pm- Interested in taking advantage of big city nightlife, head off for Brick Lane area. Have no idea how to get there from tube stop. Jumped by pretty much everyone who passes us for looking like such clueless tourists.

10:01pm- Finally find Brick Lane. Decide to eat at one of innumerable Bangladeshi restaurants. Food delicious, but slip into coma from eating too many poppadoms.

11:13pm- Shoes killing me.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Sorry, Nelson Mandela

8:16am- Last chance to see Robben Island. Cape Town cold, windy, and rainy. Decide not to even bother checking if ferries are running. Am attacked by all the citizens of The Republic of South Africa simultaneously for intending to leave country without having seen number one reason for coming in first place. I don't fight back.

9:28am- Get in petty fight with boyfriend. Mope. Pout. Get hit by tour bus.

2:39pm- Eat at yummy tapas restaurant called Fork. Am so delighted with selections, keep eating until stomach expands beyond survivable distention.

11:12pm- Board plane bound for Heathrow. Mid-flight, plane diverted to Dakar by way of death spiral and crash.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Incident-Free Plane Ride!

2:12pm- Machine gun fire near strip mall back in Windhoek. Sprayed with bullets.

4:01pm- Immigration attendant annoyed I can't understand him saying, "You need to fill out a departure form." Shoots daggers from his eyes.

4:35pm- Overpowering scent of shit assaults me while waiting in airport lobby for departure. Watch old man scuffle away sheepishly. Contract Ebola through hyper-absorbent nasal membranes.

4:49pm- Run into Susanne and Axl, a fun German couple we met at Desert Kulala Lodge. Overhear that plane is delayed, so go to bar for drink. Suddenly realize bar has emptied out and plane has taken off without us. Apparently officials changed mind about plane delay. Turns out to be elaborate ruse in order to kidnap me to feed to gate attendant's pet lion.

9:39pm- Arrive back in Cape Town, South Africa. Miraculously, plane does not crash. But taxi driver does as we head for town.

10:04pm- Welcomed back at Cape Heritage like family. Upon entering room (upgraded to suite, no charge!) see rose petals strewn about. Before romantic interlude with boyfriend can ensue, slip on clump of petals, hitting head on oversized porcelain tub.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Absolutely Catty

11:12am- Drive from Etosha to Okonjima and the Africat Foundation uneventful until we miss turnoff and get rammed from behind pulling off road to turn around.

11:15am- Once inside entrance gate to Africat, still must drive over 15 kilometers. Road is unkempt and covered with thick red sand. Oversized pothole punctures gas tank. Hot desert sun bears down on sand. Sand acts as hyper-reflective magnifier causing smoldering and then combustion of dry twig. Twig ignites gasoline trail up into tank. Blows us to bits. Cats feast on our cooked flesh.

12:03pm- Sit down in lovely courtyard to enjoy sumptuous lunch at Okonjima Main Camp. As we eat, arthritic, ancient warthog ambles into view, takes piss right in front of us and then flops down in sand pit. Am so startled and amused, choke on oversized piece of roast chicken. Boyfriend unskilled in art of Heimlich maneuvering.

4:20pm- Hop into first authentic safari-vehicle of the trip to go on leopard tracking expedition. Miss 1st step of hop. Smack head good.

4:23pm- Guide bravely opens series of gates by getting out of vehicle so we can enter leopard sanctuary to begin adventure. As soon as we drive through, lion bounds out of brush and promptly tears head off. Guide confused as no lions have ever been released in this area.

5:10pm- Spot leopard. Am throttled by boyfriend for using bad pun.

7:32pm- Sit down to dinner with tableful of strangers. Meet fascinating German couple. Husband is cartographer and spends much time in Luxor, Egypt. Off to side, annoying English woman and her mum prattle on about nothing. Am forced to feign interest while boyfriend gets to pick brain of German. Force of feigning causes brain hemorrhage.

9:02pm- Scent of aged warthog relaxing in front of fire pit overwhelms senses, causing me to swoon face-first into delightful water feature on way back to room.

9:20pm- Walk through dark to sit in tiny open-faced building built to view game at night. Scraps from dinner are scattered about and then guide shines light on area as we wait. Giant porcupine comes to feast. I sneeze and quills are shot in my general direction. Porcupine quite accurate with aim.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Get Your Game On

6:02am- Stampeded by zebra.

8:18am- Charged by elephants.

8:22am- Spooked giraffe smashes through car window. Bludgeoned by flailing legs.

9:45am- Crushed by Wildebeest

11:59am- Pride of lions surround car and tear us to shreds.

12:32pm- Consume same buffet dinner (now lunch) and this time catch Hep E.

1:04pm- Springbok as well as gemsbok sprint in front of car causing crash.

1:05pm- Kudu takes page from the 'boks and also jumps in front of car.

5:00pm- Rare black rhino gets aggitated at watering hole and runs full speed at rock barrier. Surprisingly, smashes through effortlessly. Impaled by horn.

8:19pm- Consume same buffet for 3rd time. Die of boredom.

Other than that, pretty good day.

It's A Wild World

8:12am- As boyfriend mends in passenger seat, drive all the way to Etosha National Park. Road fatigue. Hit giant termite mound and discover that in addition to wood, termites also enjoy consuming human flesh.

9:02pm- Am in Game Heaven trying meat of every kind at buffet dinner served at Etosha's Okuakuejo camp restaurant. Afterwards come down with Legionnaire's disease. Funny, I'd expected Hepatitis E.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Prickly Situation

11:02am- Quickly check work email. Depression overwhelms.

11:42am- Impaled by recently purchased porcupine quills.

12:13pm- Eat lunch at Neopolitans on Mother's Day. Kids everywhere. Running. Screaming. Sucking on rib bones. Stick fork in own eye and wait for peaceful calm of death.

6:15pm- Boyfriend gets intensely sick from lunch. Attempt to nurse him back to health, but end up catching bug as well. Die lying together in bed like the scene of old couple in Titanic.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Full Of Hot Air

5:51am- Willingly crawl into Picnic Basket of Death otherwise known as hot air balloon. As we lift off, basket scrapes across ground as I'm sure it's done a million times before ensuring a now bone-thin bottom. Not 100 feet up, wicker gives way plunging me to ground.

6:02am- Terrified beyond reason as we soar over Namib desert watching sunrise, am convinced I will shit pants in presence of 7 other people,– only one of which is in love with me and possibly willing to overlook transgression. Before I am able to give bowels permission to humiliate, am overcome by butane fumes. Thank god.

6:04am- View is stunning and rational mind knows 80 year old ladies get off on this kind of thing, but really should have taken anxiety meds first. Straight-up heart attack.

6:43am- Thankfully back on terra firma enjoying champagne breakfast with comely pilot. To add razzle to experience, pilot opens champagne bottle with machete spraying me with alcohol-saturated shrapnel.

9:37am- Flip car over side of cliff while driving over mountain pass.

9:42am- Cramps CD comes shooting out of player at top speed. Weirdest thing I've ever seen, and also last as it severs head from neck.

11:34am- Hallucinate about lions feeding my entrails to boyfriend on silver platter during 5 hour monotonously gorgeous drive to seaside resort town of Swakopmund. Discover too late that I am not hallucinating.

7:34pm- Order Swakopmund River Asparagus, a regional specialty, as an appetizer. For dinner, my main meal comes accompanied by regular old asparagus from who knows where and certainly not a riverbed. Vegetables clash in my stomach until I am finally speared by single river stalk. Bleed out.

9:15pm- Swakopmund is strange, quirky town. Namibia having once been colony of Germany, it is spotless, manicured, and sadly, still segregated. Jumped outside of Fagan's bar by white guys for interacting with "wrong crowd."

Other than that, pretty good day.

Sand!

7:21am- Anxious to get full experience of Namib desert dunes area, decide to hike in 5 kilometers to Deadvlei and Soussosvlei. One kilometer in, fall prey to heat exhaustion.

9:08am- Break out sandwich which was not-so-lovingly prepared for me early in morning by Desert Kulala staff. Mysterious meat causes me to stop chewing as thoroughly as is usually preferred. Combination of heat, sand, oversized bolus, and the rationing of water creates perfect choking conditions.

9:45am- Reach Deadvlei and decide to climb dune to see beautiful vista of 500 year old tree stumps set against cumin-colored sand and the stark whiteness of a salt pan. No other visitors seem to be struggling with task. Finally, after obscene effort has been expended, reach ridge and promptly topple down other side where I am gored by picturesque stump.

10:34am- Triumphant and cocky from dune ascention, wander deliriously out into middle of who knows where. Boyfriend suggests one route back to civilization. I suggest other. I get my way, but turn out to be wrong. Vultures circle overhead.

11:12am- Finally make way back to road. Wait for vehicle to pass by in order to hitchhike. Only one 4x4 is anywhere to be seen. I stick thumb up to secure ride. Driver stick different finger up and peels off laughing. More vultures.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Who Wants A Num-Num Starchy?

9:48am- Driving 4 hours from Windhoek to Soussosvlei on gravel highway, hit brakes so as to catch better sight of baboon family crossing road. Car, as if on field of ball bearings, skids wildly before falling into ditch. Again, pride of lions is there to finish things off.

8:12pm- Check into beautiful (and highly recommended) Kulala Desert Lodge. Climb ladder on back of our thached hut to reach sleeping/star-gazing deck. Get splinter in hand. Unable to remove it with tweezers, blood poisoning soon sets in.

9:09pm- Dine in main area with other guests staying at lodge. Witness tour guide treating his clients like absolute babies. Immediately infantilized, but having not paid for his services, am left to fend for self in isolated desert to ill-fated results.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Look Before You Leap

12:13pm- Fall out of rotating gondola on way up to summit of Table Mountain.

3:49pm- Plane crash on way to Namibia. Ho hum.

5:40pm- Land in Windhoek, Namibia where they tell you NEVER drive at night because animals lie on roads for warmth. Walk outside to pick up rental car and find darkness quickly descending. Eyes dart back and forth as I drive. Eyes dart left as Hakuna-Matata-type warthog enters stage right. Crash! Am finished off by pride of lions.

5:45pm- Springbok scampers across road. Another crash.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Slip Slidding Away

9:04am- Plan to cage-dive with Great White sharks in Gansbaai, South Africa. Instead catch debilitating chest cold and die of pneumonia and disappointment.

4:01pm- Boyfriend leads me down steep stairs to restaurant set in cliff overlooking Atlantic Ocean. Still delirious from cold and medicine, trip over adorable resident puppy and plunge into icy sea.

4:09pm- Listen to short-sighted Floridian try to defend America and our oil dependency to group of local South Africans. Die of embarrassment.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Don't Be A Hater

11:05am- Drive along South Africa's stunning coastline. Dramatic scenery and winding roads prove to be too much of distraction.

12:12pm- Stop car to take photo of picturesque rock formation. Think I'm zooming camera in for closer shot, when actually am walking closer. Fall off cliff.

12:43pm- Famished. Drive into charming town called Betty's Bay. Happen upon Camelot Restaurant, a random Knights of the Roundtable-ish-themed establishment in middle of nowhere. Order time-period-divorcing schnitzel with cheese sauce. Boyfriend orders seafood pizza which looks like beach at low tide atop crust. Fat and happy from meal, fall asleep only to awake in dank dungeon where am bit by bubonic plague carrying rat.

7:17pm- Ready to relax from long day of driving, order drink at Zebra Crossing Bar and Restaurant in Hermanus. Not two sips in, witness 20-something asshole walk into bar nonchalantly wearing swastika on leather jacket. Smash bottle of wine over his head only to be jumped by his hate-fueled supporters, including bartender.

10:10pm- Ever stayed in hotel the night another guest has been killed? Once the murderer gets his prey, he comes after you.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Anybody Home?

2:55pm- Pull out of driveway from Vergenoegd Wine Estate in Stellenbosch, South Africa. View is blocked by truck driving in shoulder getting ready to turn. Step on gas. Hear a honk before crashed into by car driving 120km on country highway coming from direction we didn't expect.

10:14pm- Watching Deadwood, Season One in the living room of Beautiful South B&B. There is only one other guest and we haven't yet seen him. No one else is around. Suddenly, there he is. Hacked to death like horror-film victims.

11:30pm- Made cozy fire. Leave embers to die out as we retire to bed. Embers do not follow instructions and instead burn house down quickly thanks to thatched roof.

11:46pm- Body revolts to ingesting overabundance of Springbok.

11:59pm- Realize almost as old as boyfriend when he first met me 5 years ago. Fear of getting old too fast causes me to panic and take desperate measures to stop my accelerated aging.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Damn Rain!

9:05am- Go to Victoria & Albert Waterfront to catch ferry for Robben Island tour. Tour cancelled due to inclement weather. Determined to see prison where Nelson Mandela spent most of his incarcerated years, get on boat anyway. Drown.

10:44am- Shear. Total. Utter. Exhaustion. Dying of something African. I thought I had all my shots.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Sweat It Out

3:13am- Still can't get on regular sleep pattern. Die of some sort of sleep deprivation disease. See? I'm even too tired to figure out what it could be!

1:13pm- Thought I might die during township tour due to filth and disease, but instead gained deeper understanding. Then I walk into upscale store in downtown Cape Town and chandelier falls on head.

2:09pm- Suffocate in sauna at the Long St. Turkish Bath House while trying too hard to relax.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Watch Your Step

11:43am- Because of opposite traffic patterns in Cape Town, look both ways about 5 times before crossing any street. Still get hit.

2:02pm- Riding Hop-on/Hop-off tourist bus to see highlights of city quickly. Perky tour guide recites the phrase "District 6 residents forceably removed" repeatedly and in such a way as to suggest I may want extra sugar in my tea. This insults and irritates me so much, I hop-off bus immediately, forgetting it is double-decker and I am on top deck. Fall doesn't kill me, but oncoming traffic does.

4:21pm- Travel all the way to Africa to catch hypothermia I could have caught in San Francisco.

4:49pm- Spot what appears to be lost and confused model holding head shot looking upwards at buildings. Could he be on "go-see?" As he turns to look at me, am smelted by his grotesque beauty.

Other than that, pretty good day.

I'll Have What He's Having

6:02am- Legs and back paralyzed after being penned into airplane seat like succulent veal. Attempt to get out of bed to pee by rolling self side to side. Fall and crack skull on beautiful ebony side table.

11:32am- Wake up groggy and delirious. Malaria already? Yup.

2:15pm- Actually buy something at Woolworth's, meaning I am probably in time warp and now about 120 years old. Nobody lives that long.

7:12pm- During dinner at The African Cafe in Heritage Square, boyfriend's co-worker discusses a time he actually had deep vein thrombosis. Suddenly, I too am stricken. Slink away like wounded animal to die alone in restaurant bathroom.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Cape Town, I Barely Knew You

5:00am- Stupidly choose window seat for 10-hour overnight flight to Cape Town (dark of night basically rendering window's purpose useless). Body wracked with pain from being confined to such tight spaces for almost 20 hours now. Begin rotting from the inside. Limbs wither and I perish before landing. In me, the will to live is not so strong.

7:20am- Driving on opposite side of road for first time is total mind fuck. In fact, so much so, it's impossible to do it safely.

9:19am- Killed with kindness at Cape Heritage Hotel.

12:12pm- In effort to remain awake until acceptable time, visit Kirstenbosch Gardens. Touch stinging nettle plant. Poisonous stinging nettle plant.

12:15pm- Drink from random water fountain in park. Pick up some sort of African bacteria previously unknown to body.

12:56pm- Attacked by black and white polka-dotted, blue-faced pheasant-type bird thing.

2:02pm- Take drive down to Boulder's Beach to visit African jackass penguins. Lungs coated from inhaling too much guano.

3:15pm- Sleep during drive back to hotel. Jerk awake like one does in falling dream. This scares boyfriend into oncoming lane of traffic. Oops.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Don't Make Me Kill Your Children

2:16pm- Turbulence while landing at Heathrow Airport. Tail snaps off in crosswind.

3:44pm- Terminal full of parents not paying attention to screeching children while I attempt to snooze. Am forced to kill tots. Parents retaliate, although to be fair, if they didn't want dead kids, they should have thought of that before letting them scream incessantly. True?

4:31pm- Deep vein thrombosis. Collapse while waiting for "coach" (oh, the charming Brits and their "words") to take us to Terminal 4.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Up, Up, And Away To Heaven

7:02pm- First leg of flight to South Africa (via London) plane way too large to get airborne. Crash into roof of nearby hangar. 12 survivors. None of them me.

7:43pm- Thanks to person in front of me jerking seat in epileptic fashion during dinner service, spill hot tea on self and cute seatmate. Survive scalding, but while drying off pants in galley, pressure drops. Hit head on ceiling snapping neck like crisp Gherkin.

Other than that, pretty good day.

It's A Bird, It's A Plane, It's A Smoldering Pile Of Wreckage

7:13am- Wake up with stomach in knots since purpose of top secret mission is to secure dream job at non-profit ad agency. Stomach knots constrict blood flow to extremities. Arms, legs, and head fall asleep in unison never to awake.

11:35am- Too nervous for breakfast, I sit in interviews devouring own stomach lining. Overeat.

1:19pm- Back on plane returning from top secret mission. After takeoff (having forgone medication), I use internal voice to praise self for not being afraid. Suddenly, plane banks right. My head pops up like prairie dog as I eagerly search out flight attendant to see if terror is etched across her face. It is. We go down.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Hollywood, Here I Come To Die

7:00pm- Top secret mission finds me on plane. It crashes.

10:04pm- Spend night at Cal Mar Hotel Suites. I think it is old apartment building turned motel. Activate heater, which groans to life and then spills out toxic amount of carbon monoxide.

11:43pm- Heater turns out to also be lair for carnivorous Ghoulies. In middle of night, they sneak out between vent slats and consume my skull contents. Luckily, they leave my best friend to slumber peacefully in other bed.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Something On My Mind

11:43am- Hear guy yelling at someone right outside window. Things like "does that hurt? I bet it does." Deciding to take risk of confronting someone simply having kinky public sex, I run outside to aid victim. Guy turns out to be teenage boy accosting teenage girlfriend. I crack him in nose. He drops to the ground. Girlfriend hits me over head with bottle of Jack Daniels. "I love him," she says. Then she slits my throat with broken bottle glass. Figures.

4:45pm- During extended recording session of new (as yet unnamed) Richard Bitch album, hand pulses with pain of playing riff after riff after agonizing riff. Halfway through "Sit in the Sun," hand turns gray and flumps to floor leaving severed wrist to spurt blood at bandmates like pubescent boy’s masturbatory ejaculate.

5:55pm- All weekend long I’ve had serious twitch in right eye. I look like I’m perpetually contemplating dastardly scheme. Concerned, I check mirror and see something squirming it’s way across lower lid. After excruciating amount of pain, a tiny maggot bursts from duct. Before I can vomit riotously, right side of head pulses outward and then explodes with a furry of tiny baby fly larvae.

Other than that, pretty good day.

What A Crappy Birthday

3:02pm- At boyfriend’s father’s 82nd birthday party (where plumbing was readily available to all), a cousin curiously instructs her 3 year old son to go potty around the corner in a shrub. Misunderstanding the extent of his needs, we are all then subjected to deadly E. Coli virus.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Fricasseed Me

3:32am- Can’t sleep. Go into other room so as to not wake boyfriend. Set up futon. Still can't sleep. Toss. Turn. Move to floor. Noises bothering me. Put in earplugs. Jason from Friday the 13th franchise sneaks into room hovers axe above me and then lops off head. Now I can sleep forever.

4:51am- Start thinking about how we must use gas grill more often this summer. Imagine myself dealing with propane tank and it exploding in my face. Prophetically, tank explodes in real life catching house on fire. No escape.

7:44am- Discover reason for insomnia. Food poisoning from last night's dinner at 33 Crossing The Bar Restaurant & Lounge. Apparently they specialize in Indian French fusion with a touch of trichinosis. First clue should have been when I went to take last sip of chardonnay and bottom of glass looked like the crotch of my bathing suit after long day at the beach.

8:57am- Is Kaopectate supposed to taste like spoiled milk? Oh god, why didn't I check the expiration date first?

Other than that, pretty good day.