Yesterday the UPS guy came to the door with the package I’d been waiting for. But when I tore into it something was amiss. The packing slip listed the four items that should have been in the box. But there were only three (I checked and re-checked and the little man counted along with me). The one that was missing? Not the inexpensive lens cleaning kit, or even the lens adapter, but the wide angle lens. Naturally. Twenty minutes on hold didn’t sort it out. I’m to expect a call back. In a day or two. Grrr. Also disappointing, Sunday night I missed out on the Minnesota Rollergirls Debut/show at First Avenue. But their First Blood: Season Opener is coming to a skating rink, not exactly near me but not too far, on February 27th. Sounds like good fun.
Bonus: Apparently the Incredibles DVD, that comes out March 15th (so soon?), tells Jack-Jack’s story.
Plus: Insomnia is kicking my ass again. So after a night spent listening to This American Life archives instead of sleeping, I’m itching to read Lenny Bruce is Dead by contributor Jonathan Goldstein. This “disjointed blast of fictions” would fit well with my fragmented life of late, lived in various states of alertness.
