I filed my taxes online again this year. The date of filing was April 13th, just a few minutes before midnight. I was very impressed that my MA refund was deposited to my bank account on April 21st, and then the IRS refund came just one day later, also via Direct Deposit. What really stunned me was that, despite having read this and knowing that the last 2 digits of my SSN are 0 followed by something else, when I went to the ATM yesterday to get some cash, I noticed that my $600 economic stimulus payoffment had already been deposited.

If anyone's looking for me, I'll be at the furniture store. Thanks, Dubya!

I had no idea that we were in the midst of a serious mohel shortage. Personally, I can't imagine a job where, if you do it right, your "customer" has a 90% likelihood of crying when you're done. As it is, my employer pays for my tissues because I sometimes make people cry, but they're definitely in the minority. (A significant minority, but still nowhere near a majority ... who, by the way, do not cry when they meet with me.)

Most of my relatives have chosen to have the ritual circumcision for their newborn sons done at the hospital with only the immediate family present, and have later had a "naming" ceremony at their homes (the baby naming can be done for both boys and girls, btw) where people can "ooh" and "ahh" and "cootchie coo" over the new cherub, then eat tuna and egg salad on little tiny rolls if they feel they must. The only bris I've been to was for the firstborn of one of my college friends. It was 10 shantillion degrees in their house which was filled with at least 75 sweaty people, the mohel had hands that shook like my ancient pediatrician's when he unevenly pierced my ears*, the baby cried with the shrieks of a thousand untuned string instruments, and then everyone ate the little sandwiches. It seemed like the most bizarre series of activities to group together that I've ever been a part of in my entire life, and I swore right then that I would never go to another bris.

And I've kept that commitment.

Not that I've been invited to that many circumcisions in my lifetime, but I think it's important to take a stand sometimes. What have you put your foot down about lately?

* I might be exaggerating a little about the mohel's shaky hands, but not about my pediatrician or my ears.

If you're seriously hoping that I will not delete, much less actually open your spamtastic e-mail, I do not recommend using the subject line, "Biggest @sss in the World."

Cynical out.

I had a great visit with my friend Nina who was in town last week for a conference. Then I took a few days off from work, 'cause I hadn't taken more than a day here or there since July. Now? I'm sad that I have to go back to work on Monday, and I need to get my taxes done before then.

Other crap to do:
Go to frame shop and get various prints mounted, matted and (re)framed so that it will start looking like I live here before I renew my annual lease at the end of May.

Make appointment at fancy Newbury Street salon to use the gift certificate I got at Chanukah. I think a massage, facial, and brow wax will be a nice combo. (Do they do Brazilians on the eyebrows? I should ask.)

Make appointment at non-fancy Tremont Street salon for mani-pedi, thereby finally using the gift certificate I received almost 3 years ago for dog-sitting.

Before that last item, stop eating cuticles for a week or two. Also, shave legs.

Go to Trader Joe's and buy every can of Diet Hansen's Pomegranate Soda that I can get my hot little hands on before everyone else discovers that it is the best beverage on all the earth. (Shhhh, don't tell anyone.) (Also, I don't know why the Hansen's website doesn't show the pomegranate diet soda -- only a green tea and pom version which is not the one I intend to marry and have babies with.)

Watch the next Netflix disc I've been hoarding. I think it's from the 4th season of "the L Word," but it could be from season 1 of "Weeds." I've downgraded from 3 Netflix discs at a time to just 2, and I still can't get through them. Damn you, DVR!

(Please forgive me, DVR, for that unfriendly outburst. I get a little carried away sometimes. I love you, DVR, almost as much as I love Diet Hansen's Pomegranate soda. I would even adopt a child with you, if you want, but I can't marry you because I am already engaged to Diet Hansen's Pomegranate.)

Okay, I'd better go take a shower and get dressed, 'cause I've got things to do. The soda isn't gonna drink itself, you know.