I had the best night last night. Man, I was everywhere. I started off in Chicago, visiting my friend Mary. I got lost downtown, so I got out of my car and walked down the street dragging my suitcase behind me. I wandered into a bad part of town and sat down on the corner to get my bearings. A giant bear of a man with a funny hat and a long, scraggly beard approached me and asked if I'd like to buy some fake jewelry. I clutched my purse, and instead of ignoring him like a sane person, I shouted, "NO I WOULD NOT LIKE TO BUY YOUR CRUMMY ASS JEWELRY GET AWAY FROM ME AHHHH HELP HELP HELP!" Then the man got in my face and told me his jewelry was the best! I should be so lucky to buy his jewelry! Through his tirade, I screamed a continual "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (breathe) AHHHHHHHHHH!" and got my cell phone out of my purse to call Mary. When she answered, she asked why I was screaming and I explained that I was lost! And a giant man was yelling at me! And shoving jewelry in my face! Ugly jewelry!
She then asked me where I was and I started yelling out street names like I had directional Tourette's. "First Street! No . . . Yellowbrick Rd! Magnolia Blvd! Cheesecake Ave!" Mary calmly explained that I should take my suitcase and my stupid ass back to my car and possibly find a map. Oh. A map. Of course.
I must have found Mary's apartment, because suddenly she and I and all of our friends were in Mexico. In a quaint, little Mexican restaurant. And guess who was our host! Tom Everett Scott, who is my favorite of the Hollywood Toms because he's not a Scientologist and he believes that my manic episodes CAN be treated with medication.
Anyway, Tom seated us at the best table and Mary and I invited him to sit with us. Which he did. Which was awesome because I love him and want to marry him. Then Mary threw her fork in the wall, but it was OK because there were already lots of holes in the wall. Tom thought it was funny and I started to get jealous so I also threw my fork in the wall. Then we all threw our forks in the wall. Tom's boss, a short, squat, gray-haired lady, came over and yelled at us and when Tom told her that he thought the wall looked better all forked up she yelled at him, too. So Tom told her he didn't need this job! He had a new show on TV, after all! So he quit right then and there and sat down next to me and then the waiter brought us a pitcher of margaritas that never emptied.
So you can imagine how pissed I was when my alarm went off and I was a) no longer in Mexico, b) no longer drinking a margarita, and c) no longer planning my future as Mrs. Guy Patterson.