Rose Rumble

Every minute of the rest of your life has been scheduled for you - and it's a long series of arbitrary, solitary tasks.

That's the definition of hell, also known as what would psychologically destroy an ENFP, a personality group to which I belong, at least according to Myers Briggs. And it's pretty much spot on.

Friends joke about my "prehistoric Blackberry," also known as my date book, because they know it contains jottings about events and plans as soon as tomorrow and as far away as months from now. But make no mistake, there are plenty of blank spaces.

I like it that way.

Last minute offers come up, plans change and sometimes, just sometimes, I get an offer I don't want to refuse. Hence the built-in availability.

I know I'm not the most responsible adult you'll ever meet. And even if I didn't, it's been pointed out to me.

My strengths are a good attitude, a way with people and my pleasure in being a good audience. Some nights, I get complimented on my dancer-like attire, my confidence and my ability to corral human stock and that's enough.

Most intriguing comment overheard at Amuse: "I was wondering who that was touching my butt."

Best thing I put in my mouth at Acacia: fried sugar toads over an incredible charred corn relish.

Most unexpected words from a stranger sipping a beer at Cask: "You've got a way of making people pay attention to you."

Secco yielded a charming new couple who told me Glaswegian jokes and friended me before I even got home, a scientist in a pink shirt who asked if I'd be wearing heels when we went out (a subject we did not discuss) and a young woman who wants me to teach her how to sew on a button (so she can stop throwing button-less shirts away).

More than one person raved about my wrangling skills. You should have seen me marching them down the Boulevard and Cary Street like a champ. Did I mention I have five younger sisters whom I've been wrangling since I was a toddler?

Thanks to strangers and friends alike, the 2015 Rose crawl, my fifth, was a blast. Just don't expect me to repeat myself again anytime soon.

Unless you're talking about drinking Rose. Solitary, even, sometimes.