PO slip

This little slip from LibanPost, the post office system here, means that my mom sent us 3 pounds of my favorite coffee. Yep, Oaxacan from Curra’s in Austin, TX. When I went to pick it up, I could smell it before they handed me the box. I won’t embarrass my mother by disclosing how much she paid to ship it here, but I can’t get too mad about that.. we are going to be drinking this delicious coffee until we leave! Too bad we can’t receive Curra’s migas in the mail.

Thanks, Mom!

Speaking of LibanPost, they actually do a decent job. Shockingly efficient. It’s much more pleasant dealing with them than the USPS in Brooklyn. Shudder.

Last night I met my friend, Wiebke, at Barometre for dinner. Some acquaintances of hers ended up meeting us, a pair of American journalists who work in Baghdad. It was definitely a mellow evening, though the guys headed off to Gemmayzeh when I started for home. I find that I am less and less interested in going out late in the evenings. Growing old, I suppose.