Could this week have gone any better? Seriously, if this doesn’t prove the validity of my claims that my life is a farce for the sake of television ratings, then something is seriously wrong with the rules of evidence.

    I present to you, people’s exhibit A: Last week, I couldn’t sleep, I was bored, same as most every night when the insomnia kicks in. I decide to check out Maserati.com to learn more about my latest love, the Maserati Quattroporte. In case you aren’t familiar with this recently returned Italian import, Maserati is owned by the same folks who bring you the iconic prancing pony known as Ferrari. Anyone who says that ‘sports sedan’ is an oxymoron clearly hasn’t come close to driving the luxurious 500hp four-door known as the Quattroporte. That night I spent 45 minutes building my very own virtual $125,000 touring saloon. For your pretty pennies, you can customize pretty much everything on that car, right down to the color of the stitching on the upholstery. After investing all that time picking out my colors, I decided to save my car online for future reference.

    My kudos go out to my old friends at Ferrari Maserati of Washington, for within 12 hours of inputing my information to save my Quattroporte, I received a personalized invitation from one of the salesman to test drive one of these impressive machines. Last Wednesday I took him up on his offer and we spent thirteen minutes throwing that car around at 90mph behind the headquarters of America Online. While doing so, we had a charming chat about Ferrari racing, my interests in it, and how it has become such a central part of my life. He was incredibly pleased, having been a racer himself. As soon as we returned from our little outing, he was kind enough to give me another tour of the maintenance bays and racing offices. I paid my respects to their two Ferrari 360 Challenge cars – both very similar to the one I’ll soon be piloting – and then proceeded to oogle something else I stumbled across behind the curtain at F-Wash.

Love at first sight has been debated for centuries. Some describe it as time slowing down, others as if the world had fallen out from underneath them, and yet some prefer to refer to this feeling as ‘cloud nine.’ Baby, it’s all of the above, for heaven has a V12 engine, and it goes by the name of 612 Scaglietti. We were walking though the maintenance area, talking pleasantly, when suddenly I saw it; the most beautiful behind I’ve ever set eyes on.

    I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes went wide, and the only words I could utter were, “Is that what I think it is?” Not only was it the car of my dreams, but it was crafted in a color combination that never fails to mystify me: black on black.

    In one afternoon, all of my dream car prayers. I drove a 500hp sophisticated behemoth, I set eyes on my ultimate $270,000 dream car for the first time outside my dreams, and I was introduced to a little love affair I can have on the side; the Lamborghini Gallardo. I’d never been a big fan of Lamborghinis, but seeing that little devil in person, I want one bad. And I do mean bad. But I shall control myself, I have more evidence to present.

    That said, people’s exhibit B: I buy expensive shampoo and conditioner. I have to go all the way into Georgetown to get it, or face ordering it through Canada. I’ve mentioned it several times before, but I’ll say it again: Lush is a godsend for curly-headed dames. Last week I ran out of conditioner, which spells death for the silky softness of my hair. Last Thursday I could stand it no longer. My parents and I hopped in the car and went straight for Georgetown and the inevitable parking nightmares that awaited us.

    Like most big cities, it is downright impossible to find street parking. Georgetown is no exception. It’s a charming little enclave of Washington, DC, typically known for its colorful houses and quaint shopping. As I entered M Street, I was prepared for the worst, but hoping for the best parallel parking experience of my life. I scanned the streets, looking for a target. After a few misnomers, I happened to see a really tight spot behind a Hyundai and in front of a big truck. It was gonna be close, but I could make it…

    Then, a gift from above! At that very second, the Hyundai flicked on his lights and pulled out of my way. Suddenly I had two car lengths to fiddle around in. I backed in, pulled forward, shimmied to the right, and all was well in the world. Now, if only we knew where we were in relation to Lush.

    That’s when my Mom looks up and starts laughing. Looking straight out my passenger window I see a pile of bath bombs, soaps, and a friendly yellow and green sign welcoming me to girly-girl heaven. I had parked right in front of Lush. What are the odds?

    And now, people’s exhibit C: At 6:27 tomorrow morning, I’m boarding a plane for San Francisco (by way of Dallas and Oakland, but hey, in the end I’ll get to San Francisco.) I’ll be staying with strangers whom I hope to make friends, I’ll be spending time with a guy (discuss amongst yourselves), and I will hopefully find a way to unwind, relax, and exorcise a few demons (minus the pea soup/spinning head thing.) You see, what with all the stalker business last year, I’d decided to take a sabbatical from Mormonity. I’ve been away from church for longer than I care to recall. But part of this trip will be my efforts to reenter what up until recently had been considered ‘Life As Normal.’ And it seems Fate has conspired to make sure that everything has come together beautifully. I’ve had a happy week, forces outside myself have made things easier, more fun, more entertaining, and more interesting in business. Now let’s hope the Fates will take care of me as I spend the next ten days in beautiful San Francisco.

    Or in other words, let’s hope the producers of The Heather Show realize that sometimes – just sometimes – good news can attract just as many viewers as disaster. How ’bout keeping this gravy train of goodness coming my way? I promise, I’ll do my best to keep things interesting for you.