Well, I finally got my new cell phone, only three weeks after I was expecting it. For whatever reason, it was "undeliverable" to my work address and never made it out of the local post office. Funny how it can make it all the way to the post office just down the street and not the final half-mile to the office. And when I inquired about it (after calling T-Mobile and having them tell me it was at the post office as "undeliverable"), they knew where I worked. I had so much trouble finding out what post office to go to (the local one down the street, or the larger distribution center 15 minutes away). By the time I got a straight answer, it had been sent back to the warehouse in Georgia.

Anyway, I got it straightened out and then was told by T-Mobile I had to wait until it was returned to them before they could send me another. So I waited another weekend. I called and finally got it resent last Thursday, and it came yesterday. It was the weirdest thing, too: I'm about to walk into my house, when all of a sudden, Catherine Zeta-Jones pops up from behind the bushes and yells, "Freeze!" I'm suspended in animation, yet can curiously still move my eyes and turn my head slightly. She places the package beneath my arm, claps her hands, and is gone as I continue onto the porch. It was crazy, really.

Or Casey got home first and brought the mail upstairs and called me at work to tell me my phone had arrived and was on the bed. It was one or the other.

But I still get no service inside work. It's T-Mobile, not the phone, because others, with other service providers, get calls on their cell phones here. I'll have to call them about that. Dave did, because his phone got horrible reception in his own house and he basically called them up and said, "Hey, point one of those satellites on Shrewsbury, OK?" And they did. It took them five months, but he said it was done this weekend.

I'm also excited about our street. As I shoveled the driveway two weeks ago, I could only throw the snow onto the front lawn, since the house is right up against it on one side, and the other half of the driveway belongs to Cranky Old Man. And since I was trying to cut down on how much walking I had to do with a heavy shovel, I just heaved the snow to the same spot. Well, I had a nice little mound going and decided I'd shoot for the Last Remaining Patch of Snow on the Block. After a quick glance up and down the street this morning, I think I've done it! My little 1-foot-by-2-foot swatch of snow roughly in the shape of Australia is some of the last to survive the warm temperatures and rain over the last week. But Friday's supposed to be 57 and rainy, so there's no chance it'll make it to the weekend, if it even gets to Friday.

Time for some cookies.