I've got mail.

For those of you, my loyal facebook readers, (has anyone else noticed the influx in comments on my facebook statuses? It's exciting business!) you are already aware of my recent letter from the Houston Astros Baseball Club. But I decided that it was a moment worth sharing.

The mail arrived at my house around 1:30 this afternoon, however, the people who come and "maintain" our yards were busy mowing, blowing and spraying stuff around, so I was forced to wait inside until 2:15 to retrieve my mail.

Author's Note: You may think that I was expecting something, but I truly wasn't. I simply A. have a view of the mailbox from my bedroom window, and B. really love mail.

So I strolled out to the mailbox after making sure all the men that had invaded my yard were a safe distance away (as in several yards away) and flipped through as I walked back to the house. At the very bottom of the pile was a letter for me, and I stopped walking. Because look at that letterhead! I'm used to getting junk mail. This did not look like junk mail. I'm used to getting promotional stuff. (We have season tickets.) I am not used to getting promotional stuff addressed to my first and last name, both spelled correctly. (The season tickets are not in my name.) So this is a letter, and it is meant for me.

To be perfectly honest, I stared at the envelope, talking to myself, for a good two minutes. I ran over theories in my head.

+ Someone reported me, and I am being asked never to return to Minute Maid Park.

+ I entered a contest, and won something? It's not unlike me to drink and register.

+ "Maybe it's money?"

+ "Why would it be money?"

+ "Why would it be anything else?"

+ I lost an item of identification and it is being returned.

+ I am being recruited to play third base.

+ I accidentally purchased Hunter Pence's contract, and this is it.

+ I did enter that raffle, but I thought it was just for an autographed bat.

+ I now own Hunter Pence.

+ What the hell am I going to do with him?

So I caved, gingerly opened the envelope, and discovered, on very official looking letterhead, that the HR department had my resume on file, and they were notifying me that it would be kept for six months. I am in the system. Which is good, because I cannot afford Hunter Pence, and the only thing I could think to do with him would be to make him run all my errands, and move furniture around.

Dodged a bullet on that one. I don't have much furniture, so that could get boring.

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I also wanted to do a quick tutorial on commenting on my blog for those of you without blogger accounts. (I've been asked, I swear.)

Simply click on the "comment" link at the bottom of the entry you wish to comment on.

Then you can either select "Name/URL" or "Anonymous" and type in your comment into the comment field. You do not have to put a URL, it's optional. If you choose to, it will hyperlink to your name.

Then fill out the verification code and click "okay" or whatever it says.

That's all! Now you have no excuses left, secret readers!