52 christmasses in a row

saturday mornings for single adults are like christmas mornings for little kids. the trump card is that we get 52 of these a year and the poor little tykes get their glory only once a year. sleeping in. not sleeping in. making coffee just like you want it or skipping on down to the local cafe. a newspaper? npr? saturday mornings are hard-earned we deserve it. and there is nothing better than really and truly understanding how beautiful and luxurious the sixth morning of the week is. feeling the gratitude. knowing the morning is yours and yours alone. to share it or hoarde it. to sleep through it or to charge through each hour, depending on your style.

tom is good for the christmas morning

tom is one of my favorite saturday morning companions. number one, he is mellow and easy going. number two, he is usually up for something off the beaten path or the tried and true. this morning he was my farmer's market / linnaea's cafe partner in crime. we'd been trying to get together all week to chat and catch up. saturday morning would be ours to do just that, plus pick up the best of the last of the harvest and to sip the ever perfect cafe latte.

great tom things: he brings salsa cds for the ride. he points out the tastiest fruit to try. he can hang at the cafe for an hour and a half without blinking an eye.

the good doctor

tom was familiar with the doctor i'd gone to in the past week. this doctor was doctor feelgood in a way i couldn't quite put my finger on (i mean despite the handsomeness.).

"oh, i know that guy," said tom. "he is really cool. calm and just the nicest guy." and we talked about what made this doctor stand out from the others.

number one: not a lot of people in the waiting room. number two, not a lot of waiting. and he actually spends a lot of time with you. he takes the time. he treats you nicely and with respect and actually looks at you when he talks to you. he answers questions. he kind of chuckles under his breath at the funny little things you might say in your health's defense.

we've concluded he is the perfect doctor. (and did i mention handsome?)

seeing what's right infront of your eyes

yesterday i couldn't wait: my ipod was coming. i'd won it on ebay and it was, in fact, my first ebay purchase. which resulted in me opening up a paypal account and learning how to transfer money from my bank account into an ethereal, nonphysical, mysterious, invisible online space. i pictured it like a safe depost box in the sky. it was several little lessons in faith and courage.

so my ipod was finally coming and the seller sent me the tracking information and i eagerly checked the ups.com site many times throughout the day.

it was being delivered to my house, which i was wary about as my neighbor is a recent victim of mailbox theft. someone stole her banking information from right out of the mail box, the same mailbox that sits next to mine. so the fear that there were wild, roving packs of mailbox theives did not make the awaiting of my ipod any easier. because while banking statements hold much financial information, it still takes some work to decipher and decode in order to use it for your advantage. but what common criminal could resist an ipod? surely the immediate gratification of gettin-down-to-boogie would be too much temptation to bare.

i should have had it delivered to work. but instead i put a note on my door greeting the ups person and asking them to leave it on the doorstep of my other neighbor, who's porch is tucked away and not easily seen from the street or even the driveway.

i envisioned coming home at lunch and seeing the little package. i thought it might be in a medium-sized envelope, the type that is lined with bubble wrap. i pictured hand lettered address information. when it wasn't there at lunch i envisioned it coming while i was eating my lunch.

so i sliced a tomato and some cheese and stepped outside to check the porch several times. checked kb's porch several times. looked again and again. maybe i wasn't seeing it?

i could picture myself mid-bite of my homemade sandwich and the ups guy would run up in his brown shirt, brown shorts and black shoes and hand me my mid-sized yellow envelope with the bubblewrap lining and the hand-written address. i would say thanks and give a big smile and tear the box apart.

that didn't happen either. so throughout the afternoon i kept checking the ups site. my co-worker tried to tell me how he had gotten a package long before the information was updated online, but i was sure my drop off would be different. i'd seen the driver's carrying their electronic notepads. surely it would be updated soon after it was delivered.

at the end of the day i left right at 5:30 (that never happens) and zoomed down the street, riddled with excitement, trying to determine what playlist i would use for my first ipod workout. parking the car, i jumped out and immediately looked at my porch. i looked at kb's. my mouth scrunched to the side in a disappointed pucker. maybe the drivers worked late on friday night?

but by 7:30 as i was getting ready to leave to see sarah vowell read there was still no package.



the package was there when i got home from the reading. and it turns out it had been there all along. sitting on kb's porch in a spot i hadn't envisioned in my head. sitting not in an envelope, but in a large box that was squarish and nondescript. sitting with my address pointedly printed electronically on a professional label. nothing like i had pictured. and even as kb handed me the box my mind still could not register that this was indeed what i had been hoping for all day long.

and then i thought, isn't that just like life? exactly what you need, when you needed it, right there before your eyes but for whatever reason you just couldn't see it.

friday, the tenth

up early and hit the gym with kristin. quick, nice chat with my sister who has a bundle of happy love for all she runs into. work was 100% doable; always a plus. saw the very cute doctor for a follow up. i hate it when i have little crushes on unattainable-in-every-way men. but it's not a crush: simply an appreciation of good looks and nice demeanor. and nice eyes.

but all the big news came after prime time.

squeaky literate goodness



first of all, i got to see sarah vowell at the cal poly performaing arts center. sarah is a hero of mine: she gets paid to say what she thinks and somehow, growing up, she had the wear-with-all to believe in herself. her stories are anecdotal and factual and disdainful and touching. my kinda girl. my kinda writer.

great crowd and it was the crowd i so often find myself in: an audience of liberal, public radio listeners. in other words, my people.

sarah signed my book and her signature is big and there for all to see.

i pod, you pod, we all pod

earlier in the day/night (read, right up until i left for the s.v. reading) i was a tinge disappointed. you know the type i'm talking about: you get your hopes up and it doesn't happen and you know it's going to happen sooner or later so you just have to be a couple-days-more patient and you know this, but are still disappointed it hasn't happened yet. which is my wordy way of saying the ipod hadn't come yet. i had been on the ups tracking web site about 25 times throughout the day: was it there yet? how about now? what about now? and now?

it still hadn't arrived by 7:30PM. so i figured i was relegated to a best-case scenario tomorrow/worst case monday delivery. i was bummed. but i'd live. i'd already waited this long, right?



but when i got home from the pac there was a note on my door with a cellaphane ribbon. kb (my friend and next door neighbor) had the ipod and was holding it for me. so she excitedly joined me in the opening of the box and the unveiling of the ipod. we oohed and cooed.

so tonight i am drinking a glass of red wine and learning to use my ipod. and acting out the commercial. mama.