Bleh. Nothing like being trapped in the office on a lovely summer evening. These are the days I fantasize about being an intrepid freelance journalist who jets off on a dime to write articles like: "Alaska's Hottest Bachelors: Breakup Babe Looks for a Husband Among the Fabled Hunks of the North" or some such fluff that would involve 1)travel 2)hot men and 3)outdoor adventure.

Well, just you wait. I'll be doing it some day soon. Because the ascendancy of Breakup Babe is coming!

Not because I have illusions that I am suddenly going to be transformed into a bestelling author when my book comes out. I have hopes, of course. But most of the time when I'm at work on it, I'm just praying that the critics won't tear me to shreds. Actually, I'm just praying to finish it. Especially because I'm back in that rough-draft-phase of writing where I'm thinking, "Why is anyone paying me to do this? I CANNOT write! And soon the whole country will know it!"

No, the ascendancy of BB is nigh because this phase of my life is ending. Whatever "this" refers to (I'll let you figure that one out). This phase is ending and I'm busy figuring out what the next one will be about. It will, of naturally, involve being a published author, and all the opportunities that brings. It will have include hot but AVAILABLE guys because I have made it a point (in this "figuring-out" sort of period) what the h*ll has caused me to go after the unavailable ones time and again. It will involve travel and journalism, and, of course, my next book.

In other news, I started my newly-single-yet-again lifestyle with a bang last weekend, or should I say, a flash. Since, true to my promises, I donned the slinkiest tank top I owned, threw back some cocktails and hit the dance floor at the Mirabeau Room. Things were going fine until I engaged in some up-close and dirty-dancing with a male friend, who enthusiastically gripped my shoulders as we danced, therefore causing my skimpy tank top to balloon open in two strategic strategic spot and reveal my braless treasures to the sweaty crowd for a good five minutes or so.

Thank you very much, ladies and germs! For the rest of the summer, I'll be wearing turtlenecks.