Friends of ours (Donald, Matt, and Joy) just moved in a mile or so down the road, and I’m excited to have more people setting up house in Long Beach. We used to encourage our friends to move to New York with us, and now we encourage them to move to Long Beach instead. No offense to New York; we’re just short-distance-friend gluttons.

Seems to be working (admittedly not through our own efforts), because every day we hear about someone we know who is moving or has moved here. Hooray!

Most benefited by this is Ilse, who gains new puppies to play with at the dog park.

We’re renting a beautiful condo near Recreation Park in Long Beach, and my mother insists that I post some pictures of it. Visit my flickr page for more.

Well, today is April 15, which means it’s [what I like to call] Death & Taxes Day.

If you haven’t already sent in your tax return, I hope you know of a post office nearby with a really late last pickup time. When I lived in Long Beach, I always saw a huge line of cars at the 9pm drive-through mailbox on Redondo Avenue on Death & Taxes Day. Apparently there are a lot of procrastinators out there.

It’s funny to me, since I always send in my tax return as early as possible. Then again, I generally plan my taxes so that I will get a refund at the end of the year, and I think it makes sense that when there’s money coming, one tends not to procrastinate.

Apparently the red-light cameras used at intersections in Costa Mesa, Irvine, Fullerton, Cerritos, and Long Beach were designed, built, and installed by a company called Nestor. That makes me feel guilty.

Well, after Survivor last night I didn’t go straight home. Chelsey had the video of Bat Boy with her and people were going back to 820 to watch it, so I joined them. I was really tired by midnight, though, so I went home just before intermission. I’ll have to see the rest of it some other time.

When I arrived at home, I began the arduous task of packing. I decided to just pick out a whole bunch of clothing that would generally match. It was a lot easier than setting aside specific outfits for specific days. Hopefully it’ll work. I just packed a bunch of t-shirts, some thermal henleys, a few button-down shirts, and a few pairs of jeans. Then I added socks and underwear, and I was done. Simple as that.

I think I got to sleep around two o’clock. I set my alarm for six, but I woke up at a quarter to six accidentally. I had a stomach ache when I awoke because I was too cold, so I decided to bundle up the covers and sleep some more. Apparently I snoozed my alarm several times in my sleep, though, because when I finally got out of bed it was already a quarter to seven. I was supposed to be at my parents’ house at seven. Fortunately I took a shower right before retiring, so I just needed to throw on my nicely laid-out clothes, place my bags in the car, and go.

We didn’t leave my parents’ house until seven thirty for some reason. Steve soon realized he had forgotten his passport at his apartment in Los Angeles, and his keys were at our parents’ house, so we had to turn around and drive back to Long Beach, then to Steve’s apartment, before driving to the airport.

The airport was relatively hassle-free. There were no long lines. We were able to use a kiosk to check in. It even let us scan our passports (or in my case, enter information from my birth certificate) to verify our citizenship. Then we walked up to a counter to check our bags, and we were on our way to security.

I didn’t get stopped at security, and I didn’t even have to take off my shoes or turn on my laptop. Everyone else in our party was stopped, though, and they had to deal with the magnetic wand thingy. Still, the line wasn’t long, so that wasn’t much of a hassle. Especially not for me, since I got to stand idly by and watch them pose like Jesus.

I got a hazelnut latte from the Starbucks in the terminal, and I noticed something fishy. The only Starbucks that charge sales tax are the ones in airports. I always pay the exact amount on the menu for my drinks at other locations, but when I’m in an airport, I find myself fishing around for pennies because the total is some odd amount. In this case, it was $4.01. How annoying is that? Fortunately, my dad was nearby and had a penny.

We boarded right after I got my drink, and we left right on time. I’m typing this on the plane.

Now, because we’ve had such good luck on the way up, I’m assuming that one of two things is going to happen: Either we get to Canada and have a hell of a time getting through immigration (presumably because of my really old birth certificate, which they often suspect is counterfeit), or we have a hell of a time leaving Canada on Monday. I’ll just have to wait and see.

This morning I had coffee, so I was hyper. As a result, I emailed my ex-girlfriends.

I emailed Emily to ask her what’s up and if she wants to hang out sometime next week. We usually go for coffee once every two years, and I think it’s about time. She’s really fun to sit and talk to because she has something interesting to say about every topic imaginable. She’s also an eloquent speaker, so it’s enjoyable just to listen to her speak. Actually, I asked if she wants to go thrift store shopping in Long Beach instead of just getting coffee. She always finds the coolest stuff. I’d love to get back into that. I mean, it makes sense to pay $5 for a real vintage t-shirt instead of $25 for a designer “vintage” t-shirt.

Then I emailed Lindsay to ask her why the heck she was in San Jose last weekend. I know she wasn’t visiting Traci, but I can’t imagine why else anyone would want to go to San Jose. It’s sad, because Lindsay totally missed her chance to hang out with me. I was going to stop in Santa Barbara on my way back from San Jose, but she wasn’t there. She was in San Jose. Stupid Lindsay. Now she’ll have to drive down to L.A. if she wants to hang out with me.

I also emailed Claire. I didn’t actually say anything in the email. I just sent her this graphic.

A few months ago, I needed to mail a birthday card. In order to get the birthday card to its recipient on time (i.e., on her birthday), I had to make sure it was mailed that day. However, it was already five o’clock in the afternoon when I obtained the birthday card, and I knew that the post office near my home was closed.

I called 1-800-ASK-USPS to find out if there was a late pick-up anywhere near my home. They were unable to tell me the latest pick-up near me; they could only tell me the latest pick-up within a specific ZIP code. So I gave them my home ZIP code and they told me the latest pick-up was at five o’clock. I already knew that. Then I gave them my work ZIP code. Five o’clock. Then I gave them an assortment of ZIP codes all over Orange County, including all the Santa Ana ZIP codes I could think of since Santa Ana seemed most likely to have a late pick up. Once again, five o’clock was the latest pick-up. The woman at the USPS told me that five o’clock was prob’ly the latest pick-up in all of Orange County.

Knowing that there was a nine o’clock pick-up at the main post office in Long Beach, I got off the phone with the USPS and drove twenty miles to Long Beach to mail the birthday card.

Yesterday while driving an unusual route to work, I noticed that there’s a post office about a block away. So naturally when I had some cards to mail this afternoon, I drove to the post office near my office to mail them. The label on the mailbox informed me that the last pick-up was, and had always been, at nine o’clock in the evening.