My father, the new computer owner, has taken to communicating with me by e-card. A couple of times a week I get an email notification that there's a card for me at one of his favorite online greeting card centers. He leaves me notes in them like, "What do you want for dinner next week when you come down?" I'm utterly charmed. On the other hand, this seems like a somewhat elaborate method of getting in touch. I'm beginning to think he doesn't have email set up correctly. Good thing I'm heading their way next weekend. I can fiddle around with their new iMac and organize their electronic lives. Bwahaha.
This weekend is busy, too. I'm going attend a Shabbos service at the local Quaker Friends' meeting hall. How's that for odd juxtapositions? Alyson Abramowitz has invited me to participate in her upcoming bat mitzvah so I thought I should go to service at least once before then, kind of remind myself of how the songs go, give myself a chance to panic over how many people I'm likely to be standing up in front of leading them in song, that sort of thing. Afterwards, I'm supposed to have tea with Sei Shonagon but we are such monumental dorks that we can't decide where to meet. It's pathetic, really. We still have to exchange Christmas presents, that's how dorky we are. It's practically summer already.
Well, maybe not summer. It's much warmer this week, though. I haven't had to wear my hat and gloves during the day. We've continued to experience a lot of fog and not much precipitation. The weather people say it hasn't been this foggy and dry since 1989. That happens to be the year I moved away from the Bay Area. Coincidence? Maybe. I moved back in November, 1997, and that winter was the first serious El Nino the Bay Area had endured since I moved here the very first time in 1982. Coincidence? Maybe not. I move in: drenching rains, torrential storms. I move out: fog, dry weather.
I promise to use this power for the good of humanity.
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