Icepick. Vacation. Organize. Then I went to comedy. Then I went to Scores. Then I watched a poor comic pay $40 to make two women with terrifyingly fake breasts leave him alone. Then I went to Florida. Then I wrote this joke:

I'm a little bit worried about Courtney Love's retirement portfolio.

Then I hitched a ride with some guy who told me not to hitch rides. Then I ate at Olive Garden and was like, so how does this work, breadsticks? Salad? We're family? Then I met these construction workers sharing a pail of Long Island Ice Teas and asked if they were lovers and watched them push the pail back and forth between each other for a while. Then I did a backspring in the pool. Then I sat in the jacuzzi. Then I demanded that the breakfast bar be reopened. Then this old guy with a beret saw me and was like, "You are the '60s and the '70s combined! I love it!" Then I read my romcom to two strangers. Now I go walk in the ocean. Then I catch a flight.