A quick note to the balding middle-aged man driving his Porsche Carrera with the top down this morning … if you’re going to drive around in a car like that, seemingly to attract attention, perhaps it would be wise to keep your fingers out of your nose. Because that’s what I noticed, instead of your shiny vehicle (and matching shiny head).

Work has been kicking my lily-white ass this week. The current score for the week is roughly Work 17, Jersey Girl 0. I can't remember ever being happier to see a Friday arrive.

I wouldn’t mind so much except that it’s kept me from discussing the exciting news that tomorrow morning I will be accomplishing #3 on my life’s to-do-list. That’s right – tomorrow morning, my cousin and I are jumping out of a plane.

He's the savvy veteran, having done so once before, but it's all new to me. I'm very excited, but also a little nervous. Not about hurting myself. I hurt myself all the time - playing sports, walking down the stairs, hitting my head on car doors (all of which have happened this week) - so I expect to come out of this with a bruise or two. I’m nervous about that moment when I sit on the edge of the plane and then have to actually hurl myself out of it. I’m sure it will be fine.

I believe we will have a gallery of spectators so I hope to have photos of this event available.

In case something goes wrong (which I doubt) and you never hear from me again, thanks for reading.