Last night I went to a Yuri's night planning meeting. That was fairly entertaining - engineers and party planning tend not to mix so well. (Yuri's night is a celebration of the first flight into space - and is comprised of about 100 parties around the world). Anyway, the meeting was at the Outpost (which, conveniently, is also where the party is going to be on Friday night). The Outpost has a certain part of NASA history, because, well, everyone at NASA hangs out there at some point or the other.

Its not ever nearly as exciting or nearly as crowded as good old Pickwick's in Baden. That's because engineers in this country have this bad habit of settling down and becoming boring-family-people WAY too young, so they aren't going out every night after work like European engineers (who tend not to marry until their early 30's). Why does marriage mean an end to having a social life? Huh? And while I'm at it, have you ever heard the expression "kitchen pass"? I just learned it, and I am sure you can guess what it means.

But the Outpost doesn't have any vegetarian bar food (not even fries!), so, they are not completely perfect...

kinda boring, kinda funny, rambling about how wonderful the League City postal service is

FedEx v. US Postal, which would you rather use?

So, my dad FedEx-ed me a package. Unfortunately, typical of my father, he got my address completely wrong (120 Enterprise Ave, instead of 1201, and Apartment 13, instead of Apartment 713). So, yesterday, I received a notecard in my mailbox, with the same address, delivered by the U.S. Postal Service, sent by FedEx. It had a little note on it saying - please call us with the correct address (with the tracking number).

The point of this story is that FedEx could not find me. So they put the address on a postcard, and mailed it. The League City post office managed to find me at a completely incorrect address (especially since there really is a 120 Enterprise Ave., and its an office complex), with not even my full name (Rebecca Kohart, rather than Cutri-Kohart). This is the second time they amazed me (the first time is when my Grandmother sent me a birthday card to, once again, a completely wrong address).

So, I called FedEx and said "The US Postal Service found me, why couldn't you? Why do we pay so much extra for your services? If you put a postcard in the mail to me, why didn't you just put the whole package in the U.S. mail?" The lady on the other end didn't know what to say, so she stuttered, laughed, took my correct address, and hopefully the package will arrive tomorrow.