Copies to Go - Guess who came to dinner? And other exciting adventures

 When I need copies, I visit Ibrahim at Copies to Go.

Drove over to his place across from K-Mart and his shop was empty!

Oh no!

 Ibrahim returned my phone call and I said, "Oh no! You've gone out of business."

"No," he said. "I moved."

Wrote down direx on one of the envelopes Ray from Accu-Print gave me ages ago and found the new place w/o a hitch.

Right across from the Willow Grove post office.

Here I am in my Tommy Hilfiger shirt. It's the only shirt I have w a logo on it. But, Tommy appeared on PBS American Masters and told us he was a poor kid - one of maybe 11 - and on his paper route would peer into the homes of the wealthy and was determined to be one of them.

So now I don't feel so bad about wearing the shirt. Just about being poor. I do love stripes, as did my late brother David.

While parked at the empty Copies to Go, I walked over to the Wah and bought a cup of Pumpkin Spice Coffee after making sure there was no sweetener added.

Delicious! At home, I kept refilling it with hot water.

Called mom while I was making my sweet potato soup. Told her I made a copy of the deed to my house. I am now sole owner.

The soup was incredibly delicious, but raised my blood sugar into the low 300s, which we cannot have. As Obama would say, "It's unacceptable." Is that his favorite word?



Mentioned to Ibrahim that the last time we saw one another was at Macy's. We were in the appliance department where he discovered he was too late for the sale, and I was returning a defective coffeemaker.

Told him I found one online for only $18, a Black and Decker. It works fine but is a royal pain to use. Boy am I spoiled. Je confess. 

Promised myself I would finish my short story Gloria Inexcelsius Deo by the end of the day. Two hours left. Figured out the ending.

I needed the name of a highly acclaimed psychiatrist at Stanford University. I sat back in my desk chair and looked at the photos on my bulletin board.

 And there he is, Doctor Bernard Samuels.

No, said Ellen Rosenberg this morning, I am not coming for dinner.

After we ate, we walked around the block as the moon was rising. Then we sat outside on the front lawn on lawn chairs discussing boyfriends, sociopaths, her daughter Vanessa's ice cream parlor in my birth state of North Carolina.

As a kid, she said she always wanted a son named Adam. Those are her two children.

Today, October 9, is my son's 38th birthday. 38 was the very age when I had my first manic episode. Now it seems like I dreamt the whole thing.


Finally finished all six seasons of Lost. Enjoyed it very much, except for the blood and gore.

And now, if you'll excuse me, it's upstairs to my writing room to finish off the short story.