I spend 50% of my day writing books, 25% of my day thinking about what I'm going to eat next, 12% of my day chilling with my dog, 8% of my day bitching, 3% of my day drinking wine, and 2% of my day lamenting the fact that I'll never have abs like Marisa Miller. That might not even add up to 100%, I don't know, I don't really like math.
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Him: What happened last night?
Me: You gave the cab driver an extra $30 to wait outside your house to take us to an after-party, then you said “Goodnight,” slammed your bedroom door in my face and locked it. I had to go sleep on Justin’s air mattress.
Him: Oh. I remember it being nicer than that.
Yesterday, a freak dust storm on the I-10 from Phoenix created a 30-car pileup with exploding cars, 5 people dead and countless others air-lifted to the hospital. It happened at 11 a.m. I was supposed to leave Phoenix at 10:30, which would have put me right in it. Thank god we went out Monday night and slept in.
They closed the freeway and I had to drive through Deliverance to get home to my family, in a torrential downpour, with wind so strong my 2,000-pound SUV was blowing all over the road.
Seriously, is it the Apocalypse?
But you know what … Crazy weekend in Scottsdale, stayed an extra day, ricocheted between having the best time ever and feeling like I might die, ridiculously good sushi with Kat, “You know what we need? More dudes!”, sake at Stingray, Monday night insanity for some DJ’s birthday, Chargers won, met a cute guy, came up on a new Vanderbilt sweatshirt, love Scottie, so much fun and I have the cuts and scratches to prove it.
Where were you
When everything was falling apart
No matter how lovesick a woman is, she shouldn’t take the first pill that comes along.
— Joyce Brothers … Now that’s good advice.
