Mama needs a brand new bag.

Although every other part of my life is great, the job scene sucks. Have been networking. Event planning? Back to retail? Back to school? If school, what do I study? Foody stuff? Business? Retail planning?

Janine let me borrow a book: It's a Long Road to a Tomato. I'm five pages into it, and I already want my own farm. Auden B can frolic around the pastures with Baxter, chasing rabbits and picking bugs off the radishes. (Of course it will be organic. Duh.) I can get my hands dirty, using the soil as a natural exfoliator.

But I want my own store. Where you can buy stuff. And make stuff. And learn stuff. And learn how to make stuff. And eat a cupcake too.

But I want to throw parties. Where you can donate yr time and money. And learn stuff. And dance. And eat well. And help someone who needs it more than you do. And have the perfect dirty martini. And everyone will wear funny hats.

But I want to be a writer. Where I can say stuff. And you can read it. And you can smile, bemused. Or you can roll yr eyes, annoyed. And I can have a feeling of accomplishment and sense of creativity.

Clearly, I'm having a Libra moment.

Oh, btw...Mighty Diamond = THE JAM. We keep going there and it keeps getting better.

I'm experimenting with a Rose Spumanti. It's dry and wonderful.

I went to church yesterday. On Broadway. It actually made me feel better. After 15 minutes, the girl with the camera was creeping me out, and my boss called, so I dipped.

Everything feels so way up in the air...but finally...it's feeling a little less hopeless, just definitely unguided.

Map, anyone?