Well, hello, my friends.  After a month of life in the dark abyss of book editing, I have once again joined the land of the living.  My nights are free…free to communicate with you, or take a ridiculously expensive trip to Whole Foods, or drink wine with friends, or watch the Olympics and late-night trash TV.  In short, I have my life back.  Outside of a lingering epilogue, the book is complete!  More than a year of toiling away is happily in my rearview mirror, and although the feeling of accomplishment is sweet, the feeling of relief outweighs it like the African elephant outweighs the American house flea.  I think I’ve made my point.

I hope you’ve missed me, because I have missed you dearly. Spending time with a bossy salamander, a goofy frog and a crabby dragonfly begins to wear on a girl. I need my adult time. I need to talk about disappointing or extremely hot men, the latest fashion find, the effects of cats on your social life and why my hair always looks better on Wednesdays. It’s an odd thing. But midweek is quickly approaching, and I need a social outlet to show off the hump day hair anomaly. Pass on any ideas, Houston ladies…my ears are open.

I also have big cell phone news. I got a new one this past weekend, and if it’s possible to love an inanimate object, I, my dear readers, am smitten.  The clear, colorful touch screen; the soft yet authoritative key tones; the full keyboard - perfect for further intensifying my obsession with text messaging; but most important is what my LG Voyager is not: my former nemesis - the very stylish, but nervous breakdown-inducing LG Chocolate. Die, Chocolate…die. I will forever loathe you and curse your memory. It is time to surrender. You have been exiled to the junk drawer…never to be seen or heard from again. More stress off my back. I am practically floating.

I know I’m all over the board tonight, but we’ve so much to talk about. Did you see the men (including Michael Phelps) win the free medley last night? How did your heart handle that last stretch?  It was pumping pretty good, wasn’t it? And when they won “by a fingertip”, did you scream like a little girl? My mother, who was sitting next to me, may have broken my eardrum. But I didn’t care. Because I broke hers, too.  And then we jumped up and down, grabbed each other’s hands, and pumped them in the air. If I could have stepped on a makeshift podium, I would have done that as well.  I’m just saying. (See pics of the sweet moment of victory here: http://www.nbcolympics.com/swimming/photos/galleryid=194011.html.)

After my blood pressure returned to normal, I walked upstairs to my childhood bedroom. Why? Because my parents were leaving for an Alaskan cruise in the morning (I know…I, too, despise them), and I was volunteered to take them to the airport for their very early morning flight. Now, I’m not sure if your father stresses about traveling, but I honestly believe mine does so at a level that prohibits him from fully enjoying a vacation. Their ship just pulled out of Vancouver a few hours ago - headed for breathtaking glaciers, whale watching and salmon dishes galore. And when my father goes to sleep tonight, on the front end of this once-in-a-lifetime trip, he will sleep fitfully - worried sick that they will miss their connection in the Minneapolis airport on the way back home. Or he will drink enough beer and wine to let it go and throw caution to the wind. I’m sending good vibes your way, Daddy. Let it be, Daddy. Let it be.

I must take my leave now. Michael Phelps’ next race is approaching, and I need to lubricate my throat before the shrieking begins. Unsuspecting cats will be leaping from the couch, I know this to be. And I’m giggling in anticipation.

Thank you for your patience these past few weeks. You will be handsomely rewarded. Someday. Probably not by me personally, but does that really matter?

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