I went up north this weekend for the first time in a month, and cruised by my parents' house to pick up the usual pile of junk mail and misdirected bills.

On top of the usual mail pile were two boxes from Amazon.

Inside these boxes were three books, sent to me by two hot babes in San Francisco: Ms Heather and Ms Beca. These sneaky vixens found my amazon wishlist and surreptitiously sent me birthday presents. Since last time I did anything to my wish list I was in Santa Barbara (long story), it sent them there, and my beloved parents and my beloved brother neglected to mention anything had arrived. So, girls, I'm really really sorry I never said thank you! I didn't know! Thank you! You rock!

I have spent all morning reading Comfort Me With Apples and drooling over fantasies of pho and spicy noodles and birria and other culinary delights I appear to be missing in Counter Intelligence: Where to Eat in the Real Los Angeles. Later I'll go to the Y and climb imaginary stairs while reading Monkey Brain Sushi. I sense an all-day reading binge coming on.