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About a month ago I did some web-type work on Librarian Girl's blog. Her friend did the header, I did the rest, and everyone else lived happily ever after.
LG insisted on paying me, but I refused to let her do any such thing. So the other day I got this email:
"Watch for a bottle of wine in your mail soon. I normally wouldn't announce the gift-giving ahead of time since that's kind of weird, but there wasn't really a spot for me on the order form to send you a card along with it, so I didn't want you to receive a mysterious bottle of wine and not know that it was from me."
Sweet, no? It might have been sweeter if I hadn't received a second email a few minutes later.
"Ok, this is the most-prefaced gift ever given, but I have to say one more thing.
The dude on the phone when I ordered the wine (it's from a local vineyard outside Seattle) didn't write your name down right. I just got my receipt...for delivery to JOEL Eisenberg.
Now it's going to look like I don't even know YOUR NAME. Not true! Not true!
I never cease to get myself into embarrassing situations.
Have a great day, Joel."
Oh LG. As long as I get my booze, you can call me whatever you want.
