Most of the time, I’d say my life was pretty normal. Note that this is a "loaded" definition since my ‘normal’ is your ‘bizarre’ because, well, this is ME we’re talking about here. But still, yes. My days and nights fall into the "nothing too out of the ordinary" category the majority of the time.
Today was not one of those days.
Today was one of those days when I know for certain that these things that happen to me – and my reactions – are happening specifically so I can put them in my book. And then when they option the rights to the movie and I get to turn down Reese Witherspoon for playing the role of me because she was apparently bitchy to a friend of mine back in Tennessee, I’ll have the last laugh. Let’s practice now….hahahahahaha.
Today was one of those days where I really think I acted out every single character in "Sex in the City". I was Charlotte in her supposed innocence and incredulity when I thought of something I had never before, something so unrealistic that it was ridiculous in nature and reported as such by all of my friends; I was Miranda in my hair-brained scheme to find out if the ridiculous thought could have any credulity to it; I was Samantha in my constant IM’s with friends (let’s just say that "fixated on discussing sex" was today’s theme); I was Carrie now, and of course when I was penning the fabulous "List" post I did earlier.
I wish I could go into more detail here but for those of you involved in aforementioned hair-brained scheme to do some sexual reconnaissance for me, I appreciate. Go forth and reconnaisse (sp?). But in the meantime, a tidbit of information just made me reconsider my epitaph. And, given the information above, you SOOOOO want to know what it is.