Lost Letter and Lure

Didn't walk because the Council For Seniors was at 9:30. I thought maybe Doris would be there, in which case we'd stay for lunch, but she wasn't. It was a fairly uninteresting program, which featured a teeny-bopper rep from the YMCA touting services for seniors.
She committed the major presentation error of showing slides with various written information on them, then also reading the information. Why in the hell do people do this? It's one thing to add to, or interpret in some way, what's on the screen, but assuming your audience can't read? For the matter, to throw up printed material--all very sanctimonious and dull, of course--in the first place isn't usually a good idea. The fact that she kept continually referred to us as "you guys" didn't help.
Anyway, I did see Hans and it looks as if we've got the acting class blurb down okay. I was also, along with others, asked to be in a picture with Cheryl, the city committee member who always attends these meetings. I like and respect her and will definitely vote for her in November.
Outside in the car, I called the P.O., as instructed. That horses' ass, manager Jesse, told me they still weren't able to find the certified letter--damn!--and said he'd call me when they did. Went home and changed, then did a lot of computer stuff. Went to Smart 'N' Final, which I'm beginning to like better than WinCo (aside from that fatuous 'N,' but I'll overlook that).
At the last BCNN meeting, I had exchanged cards with a woman named Sherry, who sat with us. Called her and we had a long talk. I'm not sure if we have a lot in common, but maybe.
Changed to go to the dinner club dinner at the pricey seafood restaurant in town, Lure. Got there early, natch, but Nancy came soon after. There were only eight of us, but we had a great time. Nancy ordered her usual split of champagne and I followed suit. Ooooh, it was good. I followed her lead with the entree, too--sand dabs, which I had never had before. This is a white fish and excellent; had a beer with dinner. I don't usually have that much booze at once, but I was okay with it, since I was eating.
Met a woman named Elaine who, incredibly enough, said she's moving from Ashwood Apartments, the place I keep thinking I would most like to live. Yes, she has a one-bedroom, first floor, just want I want. I took her number and will call her. She's moving because her husband, who has Alzheimer's, is in a nursing home in Arizona and she's going to move there. I'm not quite clear as to why he's in Arizona, but hope to get to know. I'm not positive I prefer Ashwood over Ventura Del Sol, for several reasons, but I might as well look into it.
By the end of the day, there was no word from the poor excuse for a post office, so presumably my certified letter hasn't been found--damn!