Why, I've been in a coma, lying unidentified in a sweltering hospital in Brazil, under a sheet graying with age, with a wrist band that says "Juanita Doe."
When I woke, I had a brief period of temporary amnesia. Unsavory locals led me to believe that I was the daughter of a diplomat, held hostage in exchange for the institution of free tuition at clown colleges across the land.
I was forced to be videotaped blindfolded, yelling "VIVA LA BOZO!"
Eventually, the group realized the futility of this exercise -- as the diplomats cared not about me or red noses.
In the end, I was released into my own recognizance.
I wandered the countryside until, dazed and dehydrated, I stumbled upon a starbucks, ordered a double shot skim iced vanilla latte, and my true identity came back to me in one exhilarating, caffine-induced rush.
I've been doing that stuff everyone does in December, gifting, and traveling, and hanging out toasting to the providence of the new year.
Also, wrestling with a decision that has now been, finally, made -- Guys, I'm totally moving to San Francisco.
I know! Can you believe it?
They totally have mountains there -- AND OCEANS!
It's kind of a long story -- basically, Fauxinica did a seductive snake dance and entranced me with her wiggling -- all "you should move heerrrreee. . ." and, "Come and woorrrrrk with meeee agaiiin," all the while while fluttering her fingers in a way that was decidedly NOT SPIRIT FINGERS, but kind of similar.
So I went out there, I interviewed with (literally) TWENTY SEVEN of her coworkers. Apparently, they all agreed I indeed spoke English and did not smell too bad, even though I had a cold at the time and was snotting into a tissue throughout the day.
After subsequent backs and forths and searching of my soul and discussions with people who have opionions like "DON'T LEAV ME!" or "YOU SHOULD GO!" and then saying, to hell with it, you only live once, and other such nonsense, I did it.
I accepted the job.
I'm so scared, y'all, but so excited, too.