Today was a bad day. I don't have a lot of bad days, but when I do, everyone knows it. That was today.

I guess my dreams last night set the pace. I dreamt that a relative of mine died and the family asked me to drive across the state of PA to retrieve the ashes and bring them home. I brought a college friend with me whom I haven't seen in years, to make it a road trip.

Halfway through the trip, I called home to report my progress and was told that another relative had died and I should pick up his urn as well. We deviated from our route and picked up a second urn and drove, two urns in the back seat, radio up loud, wind blowing through our hair in the convertible I was driving.

We stopped in a small town that seemed to have remained upchanged from the late-1960's. Store fronts, filled with old merchandise, set in short and squat brick buildings. I convinced my friend to climb to the top of the old courthouse with me and we sat on the ledge of the building, above the stone gargoyles and watched the sunset and laughed about old times.

My friend laughed so hard, she fell off the ledge and when I looked down to the street, there sat a purple urn filled with her ashes. And old man came out, shouting "she's dead," and I yelled,"It's ok, just leave her there, I'm coming down."

I picked up her urn and placed in the backseat with the other two. I continued to drive.

I came upon a house in a wooded area and stopped the car to call my family. I spoke with Frogs and she told me that another relative died unexpectedly, and I would find that urn in the house that I was standing in - in the back room.

I entered the back room and found the urn next to a beautiful wall of windows, overlooking a lush wooded area. I looked out to admire the view, and suddenly froze in terror. The woods were a tropical rain forest filled with hundreds of fierce monkeys, swinging from tree to tree and ripping each other apart with their teeth. I stood in place, filled with terror watching this animalistic bloodbath, I am frightened of monkeys as is, and then told myself that I must be brave and get home to my family. I was responsible for the deceased and I was the only person who could get them home to lay them to rest.

I carried the fourth urn out to the car, placed it in the frontseat with the other three in the backseat, and speed off down the country road. Wind whipping through my hair.

And then I woke up. It was about 3:30AM.

My day was filled with the things that can throw a person off. Exciting news of friends getting married, having babies and buying houses. And the inevitable question: What's new with you? What are you doing? Still at that job? Dating anyone?

No, not dating anyone. In fact, a guy said to me this weekend, "I can never seem to find accord with you; it's always a dead end. Why is that?"

I don't why that is, ask yourself.

I went to see Confessions of a Dangerous Mind tonight and thought to myself, at least I'm not delusional, holed up in a seedy hotel room like a falling star.

And then I came home and picked up my mail. Inside was a handwritten note from my brother. I've never received a handwritten note from my brother.

It said:

Dear Partygirl,

I did not have a chance to properly thank you for your generous christmas gift. I am truly touched by your kindness. You are a special person, and we are all blessed to call you a friend and a sister.

A girl can't even get a proper wallow on surrounded by good people like this.

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