Today marks four weeks to the general mid-term election. It's as refreshing as it is frightening, because there is finally that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, but maybe it's just the spotlight of a train coming head on at you. Either way, it's almost over.
Aside from this, I haven't much to offer in the way of stories because, well, this is no Chelsea Handler memoir. I expect that you should all simply be relieved that I managed to survive my twenty-fifth birthweek. For those of you concerned that I might have died, I understand, but that was just the zombie walk.