Delay

My flight home landed at 8:45 am. Mumsy and Dad were supposed to meet me, but two days before my flight Mumsy told me that she wouldn't be there on time to pick me up. I landed 3 hours from where they live, and she had previously told me that she wanted me to come in early in the morning. So, I answered her request, and then she decided that it was too early. I was pissed.

I called the night before I took off to make sure she'd pick me up on time, and she said they would try. I called that morning to make sure they were up on time. They were.

After all that, they were 3 hours late picking me up.

Did you catch that math? They left right before I landed. I was more pissed than words can adequately capture. Had she told me (honestly) that they were really going to be that late, I wouldn't have gone home.

I think the thing that irritates me the most is the the utter bait and switch ("we'll do our best to be there," when they had no intention of actually trying) which was so typical of her mother. A trait that irritated my mother—is it any wonder that it irritates me when I see it in her?

Truth in Fiction

I've gotten hooked on Dollhouse. As I sit here in the airport waiting for my very delayed fight (2 hours, thankyouverymuch) I'm watching the latest episodes. Truth sometimes rings through the words of fiction, and tonight's episode (season 2, episode 8, for the curious) brings us this nugget:

One man is accusing another of being in love with a girl (who, it turns out, he very much is). In a moment of anger (and humor) he accuses: "For months you shared the same room with her, and you didn't sleep with her, even though you could have. If that's not love... are you gay?" Came the reply, "Heh, no."

Rejected

After a very drama-full day filled with lots of phone calls regarding loans, offers, counter offers, and counter-counter offers, the whole thing finally came to a head at 8:30 this evening when my Realtor called me to tell me that the owner had emailed her and told her that he had received another offer, and from the sounds of it, he was going to take it. We did, at one point, prior to her getting his email but after he sent it, send him a brand new offer. So, there is still the possibility, but it's vanishingly small.

Interestingly, I'm not terribly disappointed. I didn't want to pay what he was asking (and what I finally ended up offering), so now I don't have to pay it. I guess I don't have to be a grown up after all.

Offer

I have made an offer on a house. I'm very nervous! When did I get to be a grown up?

The closing date is set for 3 days before my birthday, so I may spend my birthday weekend packing, painting, and moving. Maybe Bill will let me stay into Feb. Well, I know he will, but he'll charge me rent. Bah!

Moment of Silence

A girl friend called me last night to chit-chat. Over the course of the conversation she told me that her car had died, as had her fiancee's. They're getting married in 2 weeks, and this is just one more thing they don't have time to deal with.

I offered to lend her my minivan, Willie. The same minivan that my aunt and uncle gave me right after I graduated college. As I was offering her the van to borrow, I changed my mind, "Actually, do you just WANT it?"

She agreed to borrow it, and we decided she'd come by tonight to pick it up. When she got here I had the title in hand and said, "Here's everything you need, and here's the title. I really want you to have it." She accepted it, but insisted that she pay me. I told her I'd take $50.

So, let's all have a moment of silence for the passing of the torch. Willie treated me well while he was mine, hopefully he's not a scourge to his new owners. I hope they appreciate him as much I as did when he was mine.