Be sure and see yesterday's entry below on my next dinner. Feedback is requested. And yes, though I don't want to reveal the whole menu yet (I may just pull the Iron Chef and whisk off a satin tablecloth, revealing the whole meal in a swirl of dry ice, just before we eat -- or not), there will be fried okra. One way or another. There's okra at the Wild Oats Market up on Scottsdale and Shea, but they're about the size of baby carrots, whereas I thought okra was zucchini-sized. Stupid organic vegetables. I'll call around and find some somewhere, though.

Next time I get a new phone number, for whatever reason, I'm going to ask Qwest if they could possibly give me a number that WASN'T previously used by someone running from his creditors.

I moved in to my apartment in the second week of April, so it's been nearly three months now. It wasn't so bad at first -- I got calls three times a day from The Arizona Republic until I finally convinced them I was insane (see below) -- but not much for the guy who apparently previously possessed my home phone number, Ray Vasquez. Now I get calls two and three times a week from different-acronymmed companies looking for Mr. Vasquez. Case in point: Ran some errands this afternoon. Got home at 4:50, and had two calls on my Caller ID, but just one voicemail. The first Caller ID was "PUBLISHING CE", who have called a few times. I haven't called them back yet. The second ID, and the voicemail, were from "DLSC," along with an 800 number. The message went something like this, which is basically what they all sound like: "Hello, this is a message for Ray Vasquez. This is DLSC at (800) xxx-xxxx. Please return this call between 8:00 AM and 9:00 PM Eastern time Monday through Friday. Thank you." So I call them up, to let them know I'm sorry, but I don't know where Raymond went. Turns out they're "Direct Loan Services Center," or basically a collection agency. I had the same conversation I've had with two or three of these places now... No, I'm sorry, I just got this number three months ago, and you're not the first and probably won't be the last to call. Nobody's gotten really assy with me over it, which is cool.

Speaking of people up and leaving without giving notice, I'd sure like to know where Christine Evans went. She apparently lived in my apartment before me, because I get two or three things a week in the mail for her. I've printed out some "RETURN TO SENDER -- Tenant no longer lives in this apartment" stickers since I got tired of writing it out. But I've gotten a dental-equipment catalog each month, along with the Desert Botanical Garden newsletter a few times, and a smattering of bill-looking things. I got a letter from St. Joseph's Hospital in Los Angeles last week sometime, so I slapped on a sticker and dropped it in the box. Today I open up my mailbox and there is said letter again, re-postmarked, right over my neon yellow sticker. (No stamp or anything. Geniuses.) Back when I first moved in, the cable company told me there was still an active, albeit delinquent, account for my apartment, which was no big deal -- they just had to call the office to verify me -- but again, makes me wonder why Ms. Evans left in such a hurry.

In closing: The below is from Annika's blog. She's spending a week in, and blogging from, New York City.


Impressions of NYC 2.0

In San Francisco, if you try jaywalking, drivers will calmly stop thier car for you. If you try jaywalking in Los Angeles, they will honk, yell obscenities and screech to a halt in front of you. In Manhattan, if you try jaywalking, drivers will honk, yell obscenities at you and continue driving towards you at the same or increased speed. It's up to you to jump out of the way. (In London, they simply run Americans over without honking, since we always look in the wrong direction for traffic.)