( Cut for huge photos of the sad remains of what used to be a car. )

So. Somebody wanna explain to me how I'm not dead?

I am not lying, joking, or exaggerating when I tell you all that I have no logical explanation for how I'm not dead right now.

I wasn't in the mood to go out last night, but Brittney called around one and asked if I wanted to go see Libby Whittemore's holiday show at the Express before heading to Freddie, Craig, and Jill's holiday party. I agreed.

On my way there, while driving down Howell Mill - in my lane, under the speed limit, and without being on the phone or fiddling with the radio, I might add - a girl going the opposite direction swerved into my lane and slammed into my beloved Blink.

My car flipped over.

I can't really give you more details than that because I don't have them. I was driving, and then suddenly, I wasn't. The only things I remember thinking are "are you serious?" and "ow, I hit my head" and "my God, airbags smell terrible."

When the car stopped rolling, my keys had flown out of the ignition, so it was off, and I was somehow in an upright position.

I just sat there and cried for a good minute and a half. By then, the people in the car behind me had jumped out, and they came over to my car. Two women came to the passenger's side, and a man came to my side. My window, I think, was broken, though I can't remember. But I remember clearly hearing him ask, "are you all right? Can you move? Don't try to get out. Are there any children in the car with you?"

I assured them that I was shaken up, but I could walk just fine. He tried to open my driver's side door, but it was jammed shut. I managed to unlock the passenger's side, and he cleared away the broken debris that had covered my seat to help me out. Immediately, a fireman cut the battery cables in my car because he was scared a fire would start.

They asked me all the typical concussion questions - "what's your name, what month is it, etc, etc." And then I looked and saw the other driver. She was very tall, very thin, very blonde, and very young. And she was bawling her eyes out. She ran over to me and said, "my God, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" And I assured her I was, and I asked her the same thing. She said she was, and she just kept apologizing. I felt bad for her, I really did.

The people in the car behind me, who later on identified themselves as Cindy and Dawn, found a jacket of mine in the debris that my car left behind and wrapped it around my shoulders while we waited for the cops. And they kept telling me "an angel was watching out for you." Which I totally believe, after seeing what was left of my car.

The cops got there but they told us that Howell Mill wasn't their "zone," so they had to wait for the zone two cops to get there. But they talked to the witnesses before the cops who were going to take our report got there, so the witnesses left. Which was kind of stupid of the cops, but that's okay. Cindy and Dawn and another lady who was driving gave us their names and phone numbers and offered to provide any statements that we needed and come to court. And Cindy, who was visitng from California, called my mother and told her that I was okay.

She also said, "honestly, I was scared to look in your daughter's car, because after seeing that accident, I was sure I was going to see a bloody, dead body."

I called Brittney and she came to visit with me while we waited for the right cops to get there. I sat in the fire truck, and as I started to get warm, I realized that my neck was starting to throb. My mother called Kendall, who is the daughter of Miss Dina, better known as the other receptionist that she worked with at the office of the dentist that my dad moved into after Katrina. Kendall offered to come get me at the hospital and put me up at her place until my parents could get there. By this point, my parents had already thrown some shit in a bag and gotten on the road.

I asked the cop for an ambulance at my mother's request, and he radioed for one.

Now, here's the stupid part.

Because I was in shock, in pain, cold, scared, and confused, I couldn't remember exactly what happened. All I remember is flying through the air. The other girl claimed she couldn't remember what happened either. So, we both got tickets for failure to maintain lane. And when he asked me for my insurance, I said it was in my glove compartment. But all my doors locked themselves, and my keys were missing, so I couldn't get inside to look for them or get my info. So I got a ticket for failure to present insurance.

My court date is the 28th of January, and the cop said that all I have to do is bring my card, and that ticket will be immediately thrown out. And Cindy and Barbara (who was driving the car behind me) both offered to come to court or, in Cindy's case because she lives in California and was just visiting, sign a notarized statement saying that they saw the girl swerve into my lane and it was in no way my fault. So I'm not real worried about that.

The ambulance got there, and I talked to the paramedics for a few minutes. He did a preliminary check and said that, basically, whether I went in the ambulance with them or whether Brittney drove me to the hospital myself, I was going to be waiting the same amount of time. He said he didn't really think I needed an ambulance, so I said I'd just go with Brittney. But he said that if I felt worse, we should pull over and call 911, and they'd be there within a few minutes.

So, under Kendall's suggestion, Brittney and I went to Piedmont Hospital. Kendall met us there later, and we were in and out of the ER within two hours. On a Friday night. In Atlanta. And everyone was perfectly wonderful to me. A plus, Piedmont Hospital. A plus.

Kendall drove me to her house where I met her marvelous husband, Joe, and saw pictures of her beautiful son. After we stopped at an all-night Wallgreen's to get my meds, of course. I ate some chocolate, took some pills, and settled into Kendall's guest room to read trashy tabloids. But I zonked out shortly after calling AC, Dwayne, and Michael to let them know what happened and tell them that I was okay.

My parents showed up around three AM to get me, and they let me into my apartment, because I still hadn't found my keys; the tow guy wouldn't let me get in my car to look. Crashed in my bed, and that was that.

This morning, after very little sleep, my parents and I headed to the tow place where they'd taken my car. After talking to the very nice lady behind the desk, she pointed me towards the back of the yard where Blink's remains were. My mother saw my car and busted out crying, saying "my God, child, how did you walk away from that?" We took tons of pictures and found my keys lodged in the passenger's side door compartment. We took as much of the crap out of my car as we could - though someone had stolen my jumper cables, the bastards - and as we were working, a guy pulled up and got out.

He looked at us and said, "okay, which one of you walked away from this and shouldn't have?"

I raised my hand.

He introduced himself as Mike May, and he said that he owned a body shop. He was a Slidell native himself, and after we told him our story, he seemed to take a shine to us. He offered to get his guys on my car on Monday, pulling it apart and getting anything else we needed. He seemed to think that we should sue the girl that hit me for pain and suffering, but I don't want to do that. She made a mistake. I expect her to pay for the damages she caused, but I'm not hurt. There's no point in ruining her life over one mistake. He was very kind, though, and gave us lots of tips for dealing with the ATL cops.

When we went back to the front office, we chatted with the nice desk lady and the nice mechanic gentleman for a while; both of them asked me how I was enjoying Atlanta, not counting the crash.

Called the insurance company, too, and gave them the basics of what happened so that the claims adjustor can call me back in a few days. Also a very painless, almost pleasant experience.

Then we spent the day shopping, because my mom had hardly brought any clothes with her in her rush to get to me. My dad's taking a flight home tomorrow, and after stopping by Einstein Bros and clearing it with Ted, my mom and I are gonna drive back to NOLA on Tuesday after I get off of work, since I don't have rehearsal again until Sunday.

The point of all this, though, is that over the last twenty-two hours, I've been so touched and comforted by the power of human kindness that I don't know how to deal with it. All I can do is cry. Dawn, a complete stranger who just happened to be in the car behind me, made sure I had a coat draped over my shoulders and put her arm around me to lead me to the fire truck. And as I thanked her, she just said "this is what humans are supposed to do for each other."

I'll show a few pictures later. Y'all will not be able to believe that I'm alive, let alone the fact that I walked away from it with nothing more than a scratch on my wrist, a cut on my knee, a sore butt, and a nasty bruise from the seatbelt that stretches from my neck down to my stomach.

To quote my darling Andy McMahon, "it's good to be alive."

Rest now.