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2002-01-20 - 7:34 p.m. So much stuff has been going on the last week or so, I've almost been overwhelmed with what to write, so then I put it off. Well, here goes - I may have forgotten a lot of stuff but it may still be a long entry. Since I apparently suffer from "senior moments" - senior to some, mind you - I forget what I'vev already written and you may have to suffer through a bit of extra stuff, too. Sorry. The duplex went up for sale on the twelfth and last Tuesday we met with our realtor and their realtor to discuss terms for selling it. We will do very well if their inspection goes through and the loan is approved. Say a small prayer, people, that it becomes a done deal here soon. We could use a new car (goodbye, duct tape!!). I was at work forever last weekend - an emergency showed up on Saturday afternoon, and if it had been anyone but one of our longest-standing, nicest, most gentlemanly of clients, I would have sent them on, but obviously I like this guy a lot. It pays to be nice to your vet (and other people who are in servitude to the general public). So I sewed up his dog (dog fight) and then went home. Came back to the clinic a few hours later and let her out, gave her some food and water and then went home again. Scott answers me at the door, "You want the good news or the bad news first" "Oh, bad news, I suppose." "Ken (my idiot renter) called. Someone tried to break into the duplex." "So what's the good news?" "Well, there really isn't any." So I call Ken (I can't tell you what I called him, it might hurt the computer) and he says, "No, I didn't call the police. No, they didn't actually get into the house, just hurt the back door. No, I think it was my ex-roomate who knew I was out of town the past few days. Yes, I'm moving out by the end of the month." So I call the police. The precinct, mind you, as I was trying to save 911 for all those who might be dying or something. The officer at the precinct tells me to hang up and call 911. Ok, so there's where all my tax dollars go to. Good organization, people. I call 911 and they patch me through to a police officer. I tell him the story, as I have to have a report for insurance. He says Ken is the actual victim so he needs to call 911. Again, good organization, folks. I call Ken's number. No answer. Again. No answer. Finally, about an hour later, he picks up his phone (moron) and says he's at his girlfriend's house and he'll call the police in the morning. Ok, but do it. I get up the next morning, go to the clinic to take care of the dog and let her go home. I proceed to help the nice elderly gentleman get his dog to the car and let the door lock behind me. I proceed to ask the nice elderly gentleman if I can borrow his cell phone so that I can have someone with a key come let me in (where my purse, keys, coat, etc are). I end up driving with nice elderly gentleman and his dog to my boss' house because my boss dropped the phone as he was coming out of the shower to talk to me and couldn't figure out the redial thing for a few minutes. So I get the key, go back to the clinic, go back to my boss' house and then on to church to drop off the bulletin and say I won't be in choir that day. Off to the duplex. It wouldn't have been as big a deal if the OPEN HOUSE for the sale was that morning. I had to clean up a bit (the back door luckily was still in good shape, just the dead bolt bent) and found Ken's side mostly vacated. He showed up as well so we called the police, got the report number and then back to church to pray for patience. That afternoon, however, was fun. I went with my book club to watch "The Shipping News" (the new movie out, Kevin Spacey - yum - and Scott Glenn, who I have loved since seeing him in "The Right Stuff"). The movie was pretty good, good acting and all, but you can't get around the depressing scenery and winteriness of Newfoundland. Besides, they are one of my least favorite dogs as well. So, it was ok, as was the book. The book club, on the other hand, is a riot. I love those ladies. Thank you, Kitchenlogic, for hooking us all up for a fun time. And thank you, Deb, for getting me into the whole thing to begin with (and thank you a little, dad, for always yelling at me to broaden my horizons and stop reading only sci-fi fantasy and romance novels). This week was busy, but much more manageable. As I already said, Tuesday we settled the deal and now are just waiting. I had lunch with my good friend Cami on Friday and got to vent a little about work (so did she) so good therapy was had all around. Yesterday was Scott's b-day and we went to have Fuji-Ya as he wanted sushi. It was very good, although our waiter was high (surely he couldn't be just that stoo-pid). Of course, it was a little weird - we had invited Scott's friend Kent and his wife, Julie, along. They said yes, so off we went. Julie, apparently, is very allergic to MSG, and since soy sauce has it in there, she could eat all of about 2 menu items at this JAPANESE (correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't they the inventors of soy sauce?) restaurant. Her husband doesn't like fish. Ok, again, JAPAN is an island. They eat rice and fish. Period. Oh, sure, a little beef can be raised on those steep hills of the inner terrain, but really, shouldn't they have just declined and got together on another night? It turned out ok, though I doubt they let us pick the next restaurant. We did have great birthday cake after. Today we went to Timberlodge, and although it's a bit of a chain, damn, they have good steaks. I was even very good on my WW stuff - I ate a smaller steak, potato with everything on the side (and leftover butter and sour cream at the end), salad with lowfat dressing. Good for me. I hope it pays off because those cheesy hashbrowns were calling my name! We then hung out at Scott's parents for a while and now we're hanging out at home. This week is going to be busy as well. I can hardly wait for Wednesday. I go to WW (don't know if that's good or bad), get my hair cut and colored (YEAH!) and that night Pfizer is treating us to Goodfellow's. Whoo-Hoo! Thursday is book club, Friday I fly to Chicago. Whirlwind! Good stuff, though. Well, you've probably had about enough of me for one evening. I'll say goodnight, Gracie. Until later.
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