So, you know Dooce (and, as I once memorably read somewhere, if you donâ€™t, youâ€™re my mother, so please call me, I want to talk to you). Well, I read Dooce and once I got a reply to an email from her and I kept it in my inbox for ages even though I normally delete email so fast that I find myself rooting around in deleted items for flight confirmations. Iâ€™ve never been a fan of anyone before (no interest in musicians, no particular interest in authors, only their output, little interest in the private lives of actors or other random famous people), but I am now. It is disconcerting.
Anyhow, a while ago, she said that she had seen herself as one of the five top bloggers in the Observer and she was pleased. I deduced that, what with living in Salt Lake City and that, she did not have a copy of the Observer in her sweaty little paw as I did. So, I decided to send her my copy of the Observer magazine in an attempt to win her heart. This is the kind of thing fans do.
Mr. Waffle and I went to the post office together (the family that posts together stays together or something like that). We had the following conversation.
Mr. Waffle: Whatâ€™s this?
Me (embarrassed): Itâ€™s the Observer for Dooce [insert explanation re bloggers article] â€“ she said she was interested.
Him : Thatâ€™s nice, she emailed and asked if youâ€™d post it and youâ€™re sending it to her.
Me (failing to explain that Iâ€™ve only ever had the one email and, in fact, this is an entirely unsolicited and, perhaps, slightly creepy act of goodwill); Mmm.
Post office lady weighing the envelope: That will be 9 euros.
Me and him (yelping): 9 Euros!
Post office lady (apologetically): Itâ€™s a non-standard size.
Him: Could we sellotape over the edge?
Her: Well, you used to be able to do that but now they donâ€™t accept that, itâ€™s the European norm.
Me: Could we buy a standard size envelope here?
Her (apologetically) : No, the envelopes we have on sale are not standard European size.[I am not making this up].
My lovely husband: Feck it, weâ€™ll send it anyway, go on, Iâ€™ll pay for it.
All I can say is, I hope that when I find out her address and we go to visit her in Salt Lake City, she will put us all up. Do you think that sheâ€™s scared?