After lots of talk, my baby sister, Sarah, finally got around to sending me my Christmas gift.
She told me it was kind of a gag gift, and kind of serious.
I took it very seriously when she messaged me a few days later, that the Fed Ex package she sent now said to go to my nearest Post Office to inquire about the package.
United States Post Office? I asked. She had no idea. I checked the FedEx site. This is a surprisingly inflexible site for maneuvering around, by the way. Other than "your nearest Post Office", it did not elaborate. So... I assumed it was the USPS. And it has been raining steadily every day since this year.
So I guess it really was a gag gift. Me, having to hunt this damn thing down.
JC pointed out that I should double-check with the concierge downstairs. After some confusion there, they produced my package...
And here is what Sarah sent me. Prepare to be jealous...
|It's latex rubber. It's a chicken. It's a purse. It's BRILLIANT|
Behold... my chicken-purse. When I visited Sarah in Chicago back in July, we saw one at a museum shop, and I couldn't stop laughing. I don't know why it is, but rubber chickens, and similar derivatives, make me laugh. Rubber chickens are comic gold in my book. So she found one online and sent it for Christmas.
That girl really is the Amy Sedaris to my David.
You better believe I'm going to carry this thing around... sometime...