So, I pissed away part of the work day looking at flights on Orbitz and various airlines. Why? You may ask (as though there is a you). So, that I can jet off to be with M. for New Year’s.

It’s a great way to spend a work day, believe you me. However, I can’t really figure out what should such an adventure incur in terms of a reasonable price and level of inconvenience. More importantly, it scares the bejesus out of me.

Somewhere in my retarded emotional state, such as it is, I can’t fulfill the dream of being a Meg Ryan character. Where other women swoon, I start hyperventilating.

Running to catch a jet to spend the holiday with the man is just so Meg Ryan-y that I would have to wonder what’s next. Faking orgasm in a diner while Billy Crystal’s mom watches?