Imagine: you're driving along a toll highway in east Orange County on a bright, sunny Saturday afternoon, minding your own business and humming along to "Death Cab for Cutie," when all of a sudden you come across the above sign.  It is a hot day, very dry and perspiration inducing.  This does not provide much comfort when the words "DANGER" And "FIRE" are flashed before your eyes.  However, remembering the fires of the year prior in which nearly every bit of greenery and combustable material was burnt to a crisp, you are momentarily relieved because you know there is really nothing left on the dry soil that can engulf in flames...or is there?  Suddenly, your palms begin sweat and so does your forehead...or is that just because you turned your A.C. off a few minutes ago to conserve some gas?  Who knows.  But you do know one thing-- you're just the slightest bit nervous at the possibility of a fire breaking out anytime, just because you're there of course.  You are, after all, the cause of all world conspiracy and natural disasters...including fires.  It certainly doesn't help that you are driving more and more east in the direction of vast hills of dryness, that you assume to be the center of the fire hazard scene, that stretch out as far as the eye can see.  Eventually, you come to your exit which happens to be just a mile or so away from the fire-breeding hills.  Whew, *wipes sweaty brow*what a relief...

   ...If you haven't been able to tell by now, the "you" in the above scenario, is actually "me."  I had to work a party, or actually, two parties in Orange county yesterday. Laguna Niguel and Dana Cove to be exact.  The drive was not too bad considering I left my house at 11 a.m. before traffic really becomes a burden, and made it to my first destination 30 minutes early-- this proves to be annoying sometimes, as I'm stuck there sitting in my car, sweating, getting annoyed by the heat, and trying to dodge glances from passer-byers who stare at me strangely, confused as to why I'm dressed like a Disney Princess.  As time has gone on, I've become more and more desensitized to these stares and laughs, to the point where I now just stare back at them questioningly, like: 'what?! You've never seen a Mermaid before or something?' 

   Needless to say, the parties went relatively well, despite the fire-scare, or rather my paranoid dulusion of a fire-scare.  And in the end, here I am-- alive, fully-functioning (although that is a matter of opinion), and without any heroine tales of narrowly escaping a fire-hazard zone, hills ablaze, and living to tell the tale.  I wish I did.  Maybe some day.  But for now, all I can attest to is narrowly escaping a bat-beating to the head...A pinata bat, and a Cinderella-wigged head.
Flame you very much!