Would you believe me if I said, “I completely forgot about writing a blog post until just now!” You should, because it’s almost true. I actually forgot until just ten minutes ago, but then I had ten minutes’ worth of other stuff to finish before I could write this. Now I need to think: what would Grandma and Ian-in-Japan like to read about today?

Probably not my day; I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure nothing exciting happened.

1. I scheduled a dentist appointment. Nope, not exciting. The actual visit to the dentist tomorrow has potential, though. Hopefully not in a Little Shop of Horrors kind of way. Remember that dentist?
2. I picked up two sweaters from the dry cleaners’. Not exciting, but the dry cleaner’s is a very fascinating place, actually. As are laundromats. I don’t have an actual memory of a laundromat, but it’s on my to-do list: acquire memory of a laundromat.
3. I went to the post office and mailed two large envelopes. This could have been exciting, except the awesome postman wasn’t around–ooh! I know what to write now! In my journal from two years ago there’s an entry about a hilarious trip to the post office.

Time to time travel!

05/21/10

Setting: the post office, Friday afternoon. A 50-60-something man is in front of me with a box. I am holding an envelope with a thank note to Mormor and Morfar. The adorable postman is behind the counter (short, rectangular black glasses, late 30s (?))

Man: Will you be done quickly?

Me: Relatively.

Man: Relatively? That can mean a lot of things. ..

[he indicates that I may go before him.]

[I reach for the tape I see in front of me & break off a piece to seal the flap]

Man: Ah! The other day at Weekly Reader I was standing by the copier and I asked the lady next to me if she had many copies to make and she said just one page. And then she made 250 copies.

[I hand the envelope to the postman.]

Postman: You have a true gentleman here.

[Postman types stuff into computer.]

Postman: You have the wrong zip code. It’s okay, I can look it up for you.

[Man says something to the effect that I should have double-checked my zip code. He is clearly implying I am no different from the 250-copies lady.]

[Postman starts typing.]

Postman: Oh! I did not notice it was Sweden. I should have realized…

Man: Oh, so it’s your fault!

Postman, while getting 98-cent stamp: Are you from Sweden?

Me: Yes, my mother is Swedish.

Postman: Yes, you look Swedish.

Man: I went to Stockholm once. It’s a beautiful city, all the old buildings. There were a lot of Swedish warships. And they were always moving the warships and I asked someone why and he said it was so Sweden could feel like it was always protecting itself.

Postman: I’ve been to Sweden, but not to Stockholm. I hitch-hiked from Belgium to Malmö, but once I got there I couldn’t go any further.

Man: Well, you still made it to Sweden, at least.

Postman: And when I got there I drank lots of whiskey. It was expensive, though. All the Swedes go to Denmark to buy alcohol because it’s so much cheaper, especially on the boat.

[I hand the Postman a dollar and he starts to ring me up.]

Postman: You actually owe me $1,073.

[laughter]

Postman: No, really! [he turns the computer so I can see $1,073.00] I will have to ring it up again.

Man: No, you should just leave it. The post office needs every cent it can get, right?

Postman: Then maybe you can pay for her?

Man: Noo…hehe.

Postman: I would like to live in Sweden with the artist they want to kill.

Man: Isn’t he Danish?

Postman: There is one from Denmark and one from Sweden and one from…Holland.

Man: Dutch.

Me: Why do they want to kill him?

Man: They drew cartoons putting down the Islamic government.

Postman: I would still like to live with them.