Cranberry liqueur, mango liqueur, Rose's Cranberry Twist Mix. And, I shit you not: California-produced Mango puree, complete with a "bartender's spigot" on the top. (I might just attach a hose to that, so it can go directly into my mouth. I'm not proud.)

Okay, okay: There really isn't a "best shipment from Darrell." I mean, how would I choose?—the cashmere sweater? The silk kimono? The multicolored wallet I use every single freakin' day? The gin? The scarves? The gin? The accessories? The gin? The belt? The gin? The hairbands? The gin? The dress? The gin?

But this . . . aw. It was timely. It cheered me up. It combined several of my obsessions into one handy box. And on one end of that box was pasted a notice on white paper, created with a big black marker that said, "HIGH DECLARE." No, really. It did.

I'm just so happy I could go . . . I don't know. Do something productive, or Useful to Society. Sky's the limit right now.

Note: Actually, D, I did not make it to the maildrop on time. You got that part right. But you said the package was there, so I asked them to pull the box out and hide it between the two copiers so I could pick it up after hours.

Mango puree! I can't taste it right away; then there'd be nothing left to live for.

I think it's worth noting that I own two martini shakers. One is an individual-sized official Tanqueray shaker, courtesy of Big D. The other is part of a martini set sent me for my birthday by Laurence several years ago. That martini set is, by the way, the pride of this household. (Well, one of the prides of the household—particularly among the non-abstinent 50% of the demographic within this condominium.)

Posted by: Attila Girl at 02:41 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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