Actual phone call from my mom, just now:
Mama Spatula: "Hey, can you do me a favor?"
Me: "Ummmm...sure, what?"
MS: "Go out to the mailbox, and if the mailman hasn't come yet, take out the card I left in there with his Christmas money in it because I addressed it to 'Mr. Mailman' and now I feel guilty that I don't know his name so I'm going to call the post office, find out his 'real' name, and then leave it out there tomorrow."
Did I go out to the end of the very long driveway, in the freezing cold, in my pajamas and retrieve the envelope? Yes I did. Am I wearing pajamas even though it is 11:15? Yes I am. Does our mailman apparently get a hefty cash bonus for, well, doing his job? Yes, it would appear so. Is my mom totally insane on many levels? Yes, absolutely.
PS: I have like nine million gmail invites if anyone wants one (OK, really it's about 12, but god...they multiply at night like gremlins or something.
PS pt. 2: Who wants to read this 75 page law review article on the USA Patriot Act and summarize it for me in 25 words or less?
