Supermodel

My sister shows me the book she's reading - a cheesy celebrity bio on "supermodel" Janice Dickinson.

We get out of the car, put some money in the meter and walk about a half a block.  There's Janice Dickinson window shopping on Montana Avenue.

On the level

I'm helping Tama hang her "Alice" show, and she doesn't have a level with her.  I ask a passing security guard if he might know if anyone around the gallery might have a level, and he doesn't.  Tama says she pretty much isn't interested in obtaining a level, when I see a man walking with a baby in a carrier and something in his other hand that I can't quite make out.  I call out, "Pardon me, is that a level?"

It is.

He even let us use it.

And his baby is adorable (which isn't part of the coincidence but significant merely because of the cuteness factor).

Been there

I'm looking through a stack of greeting cards I've accumulated over the years to send to my friend elin, who's living in France for the year.  I come upon a set of cards with a photograph of a Shaker meeting house in Maine.  I originally found them in the old radio station at UNC when they were shutting it down, and Keith said it would be okay for me to take them.  None of the cards in my stack seem right for elin, until I come across this one, so I send it.

I hear back from elin a few days later.  Not only does she know about that Shaker meeting house, but she's been there.  It was 45 minutes away from the town where she grew up.