Nosy Samaritan

Last night while waiting for the bus I noticed a wallet sitting on the curb. There were other people around, but none of them seemed to be looking for a lost wallet, so I picked it up and took it home. It turned out not to be very interesting: no credit cards, no money, just a Howard University student ID, Blockbuster membership card, Safeway gift card, AAA membership card that expired in 2001, and business cards for a lawyer, a florist, and a mortgage broker... I started to wonder if the guy who lost this wallet would be very excited about getting it back. Maybe I could use his Howard University card to get student discounts and see how often I got called on it--no one really looks at those cards anyway, right? But I found his social security card sandwiched in with all that worthless plastic, and figured he'd miss that eventually.

Then I noticed, turned backward behind the student ID, a driver's license. I was happy to have an address, but closer inspection revealed that not only did the license have a different name on it than everything else in the wallet, but it had expired in 2003. Now here was a mystery: Why was a 31-year-old (according to his student ID) carrying around someone else's expired driver's license, but not one of his own?

Unfortunately I'll never know, since I dropped the wallet off with a security guard at the Howard dorm across the street from my building this morning, and she didn't ask for my name. It occurred to me later that I should have added one of my business cards to Mr. Smith's (his real name) collection. Then if Mr. Smith had taken the hint and called to thank me, I could have plied him for information. Sigh.

California girl

Just got back from a week in San Francisco: part work, part play. I hadn't been to the West Coast at all in two and a half years (except for Peru), so it was very exciting. There are myriad things I could blog about from the trip, and maybe I will if I'm feeling ambitious lately, but I think for now I'll just say that it was a fantastic trip, and that I got to catch up with friends from college, friends from grad school, friends I met in Ithaca, and people I've met at various meetings, so it was action-packed.

NSCV was there, and got me a new tacky souvenir pig. It's official: I am the pig lady. But please do not send me any ugly pigs. It's only cute if NSCV does it.

Obama's Space

In the wake of yesterday's announcement, www.barackobama.com has added a crazy social-networking component where you can create a profile, upload a picture, search for other supporters, find campaign events to go to, blog about how much you love Barack Obama, and even track your personal progress in raising money for the campaign. Best of luck, Barry--I just hope you don't get sued by Rupert Murdoch.

Even though I'm very, very happy that Obama is running, I'm disturbed that he's running almost two years before the election. If this election sets a precedent--and don't they all?--I'm looking at having presidential campaigns running for half of my adult life. Makes me seriously re-think wanting to live in a democracy.

"Food"

Yesterday our office held its annual white trash cook-off, a tradition that began... last year. While some might view our trying to out-do each other by making creative and disgusting dishes out of processed food products as an ugly expression of East Coast-liberal elitism, I submit that we were in fact departing from liberal elitist stereotypes by shunning political correctness.

While there was no formal judging process, in my opinion there was a tie for the most creative/disgusting prize between Twinkie sushi and litterbox cake. The litterbox cake was actually not so bad if you could get past the fact that it was topped with Tootsie Rolls sculpted to look like poop. Twinkie sushi, on the other hand, looked cool but tasted unbelievably gross.

Another purchase, another blog entry

My blog's been going through a slow time, but nothing inspires me to write like a major purchase. One of my goals for this year is to decorate my apartment, and I took a step in that direction this week when I bought this mid-century bed I found on craigslist. How awesome is this? I think it goes particularly well with my 40s building, and maybe even the TV that's almost as old as I am. My stuff isn't just old anymore--it's vintage.

When I finally wrestled the box spring and mattress onto the new frame, the top of the bed turned out to be an inch shy of three feet off the floor. It's a reminder of where the phrase "climb into bed" comes from.

Unfortunately Rocky is not as enamored with the bed as I am. She hid in the closet for over two hours starting when we brought the headboard and footboard in. When I finally managed to coax her out, she stared fearfully at the new bed and then went back into the closet. I've disturbed her sacred hiding place.