He promised me the moon and the stars. I'm still waiting on the moon, but tonight I got a star. It was in silvery wrapping paper with a velvety blood red bow. The lack of a postage stamp makes me think one of the lackeys dropped it off. Inside was a map, made to be followed with the telescope I don't own, which designated which star was mine. According to the enclosed certificate of authenticity, the Sookie Stackhouse star is part of dual star solar system. I'll bet you dollars to donuts what the other star was named.

Supposedly, my star can be seen from my house. Personally, all the little white lights twinkling above me in the night sky look exactly alike to me. I don't have clue one what I'm supposed to do with the star. It's Eric, so I'm sure he spent gobs of money on it; but, as someone with gobs of bills to pay, this is probably the most inconsiderate gift he's ever given me. I really didn't need to be reminded how little I have by him giving me so much.

Still, Gram taught me to be grateful for the little things, and there's a little thrift shop that sold me one of those home spa waterjet pads that goes into the tub for eight bucks. I felt good buying it. My own private Jacuzzi; nothing could be better after a late shift at the diner! My every little aching muscle was looking forward to it. Then I stepped into my bathroom, without anything to take a bath in. Somebody clawed off the claw footed tub that had been in my family for years and replaced it with a Jacuzzi. A real freaking Jacuzzi! The elaborate indoor kind people are always dying of fungal infections from in the news; is he actually trying to kill me?!

Now I'm mad.

Now that fanged menace has his phone turned off and his voicemail is full.

That's okay. I've got Amelia's computer and send him an email worthy of a bridge troll.

I'm thinking I did myself proud telling him off like that, and then I get this back:

"Sookie,

Do understand your anger that I forgot to consult you replacing your bathtub. I have been forgetful and I am sorry about that.

But, I guess that doesn't change the fact that I love you so much.

Love

Eric

P. S. This is Your Human in India concierge service mailing on behalf of Mr. Northman"

My love life has been outsourced!

A very angry google search later I find out that it's a company for vampires who have moved overseas, but still have personal obligations to daylight walking relatives back in wherever they're from. It pretty much buys movie tickets and cell phones and other sundries for the abandoned humans in a vampires life.

I started wishing upon my star that my dead boyfriend was dead!

Screw the contradictory concept: I really, really wanted it!

A sigh of frustration later, and it finally hits me: my star, which wasn't even picked out by me, would probably only grant wishes for the person who really picked it out.

I'm guessing somewhere in India somebody wanted an indoor hot tub.

In the morning, I'm going to email the company asking where I can send a physical address thank you note to the human actually doing the concierge work. I'm also going to email "Eric" with the claim I need a credit card, to which I'm going to charge the shipping of an indoor hot tub to India.

Somebody somewhere should sometimes get exactly what they wish for- I just wish it was me.