It has been strange enough, over the past two days, that I got three hours of sleep on Tuesday night. Last night I fell asleep early, around 10:30, to recover from Tuesday’s party and after-party, and didn’t answer the phone at 12:20 (the ringtone, Stairway to Heaven, playing at astonishing volume). Somebody, whose number isn’t in the phone, left a message consisting of an a cappella version of “Part of That World” from the Little Mermaid. It’s the entire song, melody intact, lyrics carried off almost perfectly, and I can’t recognize the singer. At a few points she almost breaks down laughing, but the creepy thing about the message is that she never does break down — to shout “I’m drunk!” or something like that — but stays with it and then hangs up as soon as the song’s over. For thirty days, until Cingular steps in to delete the thing, I’ll have this mystery sitting there on voicemail. I looked up the area code. It starts somewhere in the Mojave, and only peters out in the Southern Sierra Nevada mountains. In a space that large, a mermaid could hide out for years.