Googling the word “sinus” while drinking a smoothie with chia seeds.
Mani/pedi/acoustic jam in jammies night with Meat Loaf.
Getting erotic nose massages from René.
Visiting schools and giving chest-beating lessons as a public service.
Contemplating killing self with neti pot full of brain-eating bacteria.
Settling on a neti Martini instead.
While under the influence of neti Martini, contemplating stealing tiger, Hangover-style, and letting it eat her.
Making a Pinterest idea board for an O Canada Casino.
Trading Snapchats with Leo.
Brainstorming ways to sabotage Jane Seymour’s latest line of jewelry.
Building a tiny model of the Titanic and then sitting with it in the bath while drinking too much Boone’s Farm and then standing up naked and stepping on it as the water drains, singing “My Heart Will Go On.”
Writing hate letters to ABC about the cancellation of Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23 all signed by “Roma Downey.”
Injecting her armpits with Botox.
Getting a Pierre Trudeau tattoo on her ass.
Something involving beavers and maple syrup.
Purposely choosing foods most likely to give her food poisoning from the hotel buffet so that she can sit on the toilet and have an excuse not to go out while stalking exes on Instagram and, presumably, losing a little weight.
Watching Nashville and convincing herself, somehow, that Reina James is based on her.
Sneaking into Bette Midler’s place to put Saran Wrap on her toilet.
Calling Siegfried at 2:00 AM and making him cry—again—just because she can.
Buying an I [HEART] LAS VEGAS t-shirt and wearing just that while looking in the mirror crying and wondering how time went by so fast.