A very nice man was persistently hitting on me in the sci-fi section of the bookstore tonight. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was there because my wonderful boyfriend had taken me out for an I'm-sorry-you-didn't-get-into-STS surprise, so I smiled and nodded and accepted the book he recommended to me, which actually looks pretty good. If it wouldn't have sent the wrong signals, I would totally have asked for his email address - he seemed like a nice, friendly, wholesome geek, which is something I'm always looking to add to my social circle.
(Did you notice the subtly hidden "my boyfriend is wonderful" subtext in there? Huh?)
Then at the checkout, the cashier looks up. "Hey, weren't you in here about a month ago? Buying books for your friends who helped you paint your apartment?" I don't know whether to be vaguely embarrassed - am I really that extravagant that cashiers remember me? - or rather pleased with myself for coming up with such a memorable and (hopefully) appreciated way to say "thank you for making my apartment so amazing."
Now I'm cataloguing my way-too-many new books. Special anticipations: the new Robin McKinley (which I made an exception for and bought in hardcover), Robert Caro's book on Robert Moses, and Patricia Highsmith's banned-in-the-fifties lesbian mystery classic (who knew?). Oh, and the boy bought a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy guide to life. I don't know whether to be exasperated or amused. Actually, I think I'm both.
In other news, the boy and I had lunch with one of our downstairs neighbors today. She's really nice but I got the sense she's a bit lonely - she kept trying to make extensive plans with us after meeting us for the second time. We had a long talk about why Korean and Jewish families are both crazy, though, which was amusing. We're probably going to do lunch once a month or so. If I'm lucky, she'll also be into the cooking-lessons-swap idea - I adore Korean food, and she's curious about cookin' Jew.
In other other news, I really need to start keeping a writer's notebook again. I've had a lot of interesting ideas for writing projects, but now that I'm nearly a chapter and a half into my still-untitled new novel, I can't really do much about them. Just having a place to write them down and get them out of my head would be good. Of course, I have half a zillion wonderful little notebooks - I just have to get back into the habit of using them.