Is there anything more disappointing than going to the post office to pick up the package that has been on hold for you all week, signing for it, and discovering it's not for you? That in fact it's for your husband? It's not a late birthday present! It's some stupid magazine with Jacqueline Bisset, my husband's true love, on the cover! Argh!
Oh, all right, there are plenty of more disappointing things, but I was genuinely bothered at the time. I really thought it was going to be something cool for me because it was sent registered mail. It was actually addressed to Jon Hutzinger. Sounds like someone has a secret eBay identity as well as their regular account. I must say I thought it was odd that the post office was happy to let me sign for it even though that's not my name. "Package for Fred Fnord. Your name is Tokyo Sexwale? No problem, sign here." What kind of security is that, I ask you.
I recovered by going to a bookstore. I had to return a DVD. I considered buying the Harry Potter movie, but I just wasn't sure it was worth full price even though I enjoyed the movie in the theater. If I ever find it on sale I'll grab it. Instead, I spent my money on a cup of coffee and two books: A.S. Byatt's Possession and the third book in P.D. Doherty's Lord Amerotke series, The Anubis Slayings. This is not my favorite Egyptian mystery series, I much prefer Lynda S. Robinson and Lauren Haney, but it's not bad and I was totally out of train reading material. I decided my books were my own birthday present to myself.
I will watch "The Fellowship of the Ring" over and over, that's certain. I'm so in love with this movie. I'm just thrilled to have it so I can watch it whenever I want, although it's really not the same seeing it on the computer instead of a film screen. This afternoon I played all the featurettes and clips on the Special Features disc and could barely stop myself from watching the movie right then and there. I had no idea the pottery, glass, weapons, and armour were all unique to the film and made from scratch. All of it! They didn't nab any leftover Xena stuff or anything. That's serious dedication to a creative vision.
This evening I drove the mean streets of the Tenderloin looking for parking so Jen and I could drink and gab about our lives. It is a monumental pain trying to park in the city in general; on a Saturday night it's like looking for the Holy Grail. I finally found a place only two blocks away, walked up to our meeting point, and totally failed to recognise my own friend. Nice, huh? I blame the fact that it was dark, her hair was red instead of pink, she was wearing black instead of pink, and I hadn't seen her in a year. Luckily she recognised me. We had our chocolate martinis at Olive and they are well worth having to park at the corner of Pimp and Prostitute. But first I tried a Mojito because I'd heard they were all the rage and all the cool kids were drinking them.
It was like drinking a mint salad. Really sweet mint salad. I gave up halfway through it. I'm not hip enough to like a drink made primarily of sucrose and weeds. The chocolate martini took away the pain of my unhipness and made me a very happy person. We gabbed and dished and drank, and when the noise level got unbearable we retired to her apartment so I could sober up before driving (yeah, yeah, one and a half drinks, bite me, I don't drink very often). It was a really nice little place, very clean and tidy, quite charming. I was not treated to the sight of the neighbor who likes to walk naked through the hallway, but perhaps next time.
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