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I hate it when I draw a blank. It's been happening more often. Researchers have linked short-term memory loss to Diet Coke, but I reject the theory based on my need for more. I heart Diet Coke. (note to self (nts) what is up with everyone saying heart instead of love? Are we so afraid of the "L" word (love, not the show) that we've stopped using it all together?) It's 12:22 in the AM and I'm trying to find some amazing insight so I can update my blog. BLANK. A giant mirror looks back at me in my hotel room, within it's reflection I see a giant bed calling my name, wooing me with promises of warmth and comfort. BLANK.

I'm in Monterey for the next couple days. It reminds me a lot of home (Ft. Bragg, CA). I grew up in fog, raised in an upstairs apartment over a funeral home, two blocks from the ocean. I just remember being cold most of my life so Sacramento is a welcomed climate change. I wonder if Monterey has a nice funeral home. When we would take family trips in the summer time we would often stop off at other funeral homes and just pop in for a visit. Dad would ask to take a look around and then we'd compare it to our funeral home once we were safely in the car. We didn't have funeral home envy very often since we had a pretty nice place. Growing up cold isn't fun . . . everything hurts worse in the cold. I would hate to get shot on a cold day . . . BLANK. So now I'm rambling. BLANK. Remember . . . it's never too late to put the fun back in funeral. One last drink of Diet Coke and I'm off to bed. BLANK.