Does anyone know a Kartik Thyagarjan? Anyone? Anyone?

Because he's getting some *very important* mail at my house. Along with, I swear to god, at least 7 other people. Who don't live here. I'm not sure what went on in this 3-bedroom abode before we moved in, but it certainly must've been a lot of fun. And no offense to my mailman, but -- for godssakes man! We have lived here for 10 months! How much longer do we need to sort through mail for Laura and Dennis and Kathleen and Kartik!?

Anyway, now that that's off my chest, I did want to take this opportunity to post my most favorite incorrectly addressed mail of all. It's a postcard with a lovely visage of the Dominican Republic on front, and it reads:

My dear sister.
I'm on a beach but where is my Laurie!
I'm searching for her in the sea, in the shells, in the waves, ask to a dolphin, Nobody see her!
I miss her!! ??
Suddenly a murmaid appears and tells me:
She is in SF!
I woke up, I was dreaming she was here with me!
Maybe one day!
Love you both!!
Kathy

Friggin' lying murmaid bastards.

I'm thinking of changing the name of my blog to, "Hilarity Ensues."

I swear to god that nearly every single day of my commute, I see at least one lone piece of footwear on the side of the highway. A sneaker. A loafer. An occasional Mary Jane.

Where are they coming from? Are people just casually tossing one shoe out the window of their moving vehicles, laughing to themselves over the curiosity sure to follow? Is there a massive revolt of footwear demanding more frequent polishing? Are suitcases tied atop stationwagons reacting to some recent change in electromagnetic fields, magically coming undone and vacating themselves of any canvas or leather?

I just don't get it.

Is it a sure sign that you've been commuting too long when you realize you're actually excited for the Mattress Discounters commercial, since you know every single word of their jingle?

I am in love with this.

I am just full of lists these days. Thus, an addendum to Sarah-birthday posting, in the form of a cautionary tale:

- - - - -
It's 11:30 on Saturday night. We've been at Sue and Mike's since 1, playing beer die, eating, talking, playing beer die. I'm tired. It's time to go. Everyone's drunk but me. I'm tired. We MUNI-ed over, so Sarah lets me drive her car home. I drop her off first. We then get our house. Yay, sweet home! I walk up to the door. Bryan balks. Why balking, Bryan?

Bryan put the keys in his backpack. Bryan put the backpack in Sue and Mike's guest room. Bryan didn't take it back out.

Allyson is very sad. Allyson and Bryan get back into Sarah's car to drive the 25 minutes back to Sue and Mike's. Sarah's car is nearly out of gas. We must thus stop to refill. I see that Bryan is putting premium gas into Sarah's car. What a guy. Why premium, Bryan?

"Nothing but the bottom of the barrel!" Bryan says, grinning widely.

We soldier on in this car not my own, now thrilled to be filled with the best gas money can buy, but perhpas confused by incorrectly used cliches. See, I am very bad with directions. I get very lost without a map or someone to direct me, unless I've driven the route myself at least a handful of times. Just one of those things in life you eventually learn to accept about yourself. So here we are, crossing through the park. Which lane, Bryan? Which one? Bryan is busy with his cell phone. Bryan is listening to messages from earlier that day, when he was busy playing beer die. We're in the wrong lane and we miss the turn. Somehow, we nearly end up on Golden Gate Bridge.

Forty minutes, fumbling through Sarah's glove compartment, and a few shouting matches later, we arrive back at Sue and Mike's for the keys. They're thrilled to see us! Back so soon?

Deja vu sets in as we traverse the city back to our little Glen Park abode one last time that evening.
- - - - -

I'm not sure what the moral of that story is, but it does make me giggle. Though I almost wish there were more unfortunate incidents to include. I'm a glutton for silly stories, I guess.

And despite all this, the wedding is still on. I love you honey!

Reasons why I love being friends with Sarah:

1. Sarah knows all the words to "The Search Is Over."
2. And she isn't afraid to sing them in a cab.
3. Sarah always has to determine her "favorite part of the night" during post-game analysis the next morning.
4. Sarah has a blog and updates it just about as often as I do.
5. How else would I know the minute that Ben proposes to J Lo?
6. I can tell Sarah that I'm thinking of planning a Mint night in October of 2006, and she'll mark her calendar.
7. Sarah never gets tired of hearing Bryan talk about his pillow.
8. Sarah doesn't like to be the first to leave the party.
9. Our wedding present from Sarah arrived almost 3 months ago.
10. When it comes to her birthday, all she wants is a BBQ and beer-die fun for all!

I am so lucky to have such fabulous friends here in SF.

Happy Birthday to Sarah!