So this evening I suffered the horror of going with my friend Tink to vote at a school down the street--and being asked if she was MY DAUGHTER. It is true the woman had only glanced at us and, while Tink was off voting, was telling me that she'd given certain forms to my friend "..or daughter?".. but I still found it quite horrifying, especially given that Tink is with child and I myself obviously appear to be 20 years old to everyone except that blind old poll-minding bat.

But Tink later gave me a book celebration gift she'd bought for my book party next week, which she is not able to attend due to a Penguin sales conference suspiciously scheduled at the same time. Publishing house traitorousness aside, this might be the best gift I've ever gotten--after, of course, the gift of life: