It's so strange, gazing over at the little notebook at my elbow. The soft, muted orange of its cover, edged in black and etched over with Chinese characters. Faint lines suggest a mountain, softly dipping into the sea below. Its binding is nothing but a simple series of knots that allow the book to lie flat when opened, a blessing I've often wished for in notebooks.
It's strange to think that it came from across the country, from somewhere I've never been, but always hoped to go. It's strange to think that a pair of hands I've never touched, or even seen, wrapped it carefully, swiftly printing "To: The Lady Sway. From: Supes" on the label. A mild reference to this infamous mobster was printed below the cheerily smiling snowman.
It's even more strange to think that I write in it now, a present from someone who may as well be a complete stranger-- someone I could hardly pick out on the street or in the airport.
But someone who knows me well enough to know that I would love whatever he sent me, carefully packed away in Julie's bag until she could deliver it to my house, leaving it on my kitchen table to wait patiently for me to come home. And when I did, with Anthony and Tabitha in tow, I came across it and peered at it only briefly, thinking it was a late Father's Day present for my da. The label jabbed me in the eye, however, quite desperate to get my attention. With a delighted shriek, I flew into the living room, package in my hand, to Tabitha and Anthony's bewilderment. After a swift explanation of who Sean was (and a "No, Tabitha, I promise-- he is SO cute!"), I whisked away the wrapping and felt a few tears well up in my eyes. The silly boy never fails to do that to me. The present confirmed what I had been suspecting for a long time...
I'm getting gifts from strange men.
I am a diva.