It's my birthday again!

I hope this doesn't mean I'm 26 already. I was just starting to enjoy 25.

Yesterday I left the house for the first time in an eternity, and while I was out both UPS and the post office tried to deliver packages to me. Typical! So today I waited until UPS came to redeliver, signed for the package from my mum and my sister, opened it with glee, and then walked down to the post office to pick up the package they were holding, which was from my favorite family on earth that I am not a part of (not counting the Ingalls family).

From my sister I got a 4 pack of match boxes with pin-up girls on them, which I doubt I will use because they are so pretty, and a metal case with another pin-up girl that has a card inside informing me that it will hold three tampons or cigars. This made me laugh hysterically. Besides, I use OB, so I could probably fit about 10 tampons in there [/TMI]. From my sister and mom I got the prettiest little silver box, and when I popped it open I discovered that it is a teensy portable ashtray. Now, I ask you, what sort of message is my mother trying to send? (Clearly, the answer is that I should switch to cigars.)

From Pat, Stephanie, Saren and Harper I got monkey soap. I got other stuff, but I am still giggling like a little girl, trying to figure out how they got the monkey in the soap. Right, they also sent a pretty purple embroidered bag, a pair of funny/pretty socks (what? they're both), and a little silver box that has dragon flies on it and is not a portable ashtray. There was also an assortment of beautiful drawings, and the prettiest pen I have ever seen. I think they may have beaten Cassie for sheer number of gifts.

I forgot to mention that in the box with the gifts from mum and K was a huge stack of books mum had set aside for me a while back - mostly Kurt Vonnegut novels. I think I now own every one of his published works with the exception of Cat's Cradle, which I have read anyway.

I have been meaning to blog about my traumatic pizza experience on Tuesday, but it is still too awful to think about. I will just say this: JR at Papa John's on Vermont Avenue, I know where you work.