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impyI am a terrible slacker when it comes to updating things I actually give a damn about. I mean, really, I have a mostly fantastic week and what do you lot hear of it? That's right, about as much as he would without his hearing aids, which is to say, not a whole hell of a lot.
We'll begin with Monday. I get a frantic sort of pleading IM from Cass who mentions that with Cleo [her car] repossessed, they have no way to get the courthouse and could I think of anyone, gosh anyone at all, who would take them? Um, okay, I'll ask Mumsy, but since her two choices are downtown and Monks Corner, I'm thinking you'd best beat someone up for taxi fare, babycakes. But to my surprise, Mumsy agrees. And then I figure out why. I'd asked her to take me to the Summerville Trade-A-Book and to do both things would prove impossible! Gasp! Especially when Cass keeps adding things to the itinerary, like once Mumsy sort of agreed, we were working on her schedule now. Which, alas, is typical. First we had to wait for Matt, whom I thought was just down at BAM and if she had a minion covering the store, why'd she need him there too? [Duh, she needed him to go with, but not really, as they only need one person to fill out the paperwork. Live and learn.] And then she needed a friend of theirs to show up to work and lend her money to pay for the paperwork, cuz what with them being broke and all, they didn't have a spare $50 lying around. That's about the time I realized I wasn't getting my book trip and whined. I know, I know, my best friend is getting married and I'm whining about a book store trip. How selfish, blah blah blah, yes?
Well, yes, but it's also my vacation and y'know, I'm not always fond of her groom, k? So the idea of lounging around all morning waiting for her to call back was not appealing. But Mumsy says to hell with this, if not for waiting on the money, would we have to wait for anything else? Matt to arrive, but he's on his way, fine, here's $50, let's go. And so we did. Can I just say that the rental truck we had that week was fantastic? My only two problems were that it was a bitch to open the door from the inside [it was easier to roll the windows down and open them from outside] annnnnnd I don't like little things beeping at me, telling me that I'm not wearing my seatbelt. I really don't. If I want to take a header through the windshield, it's my fucking choice.
Anyway. We go, we wait around for Matt. I admire the pretty calenders. Mumsy buys a couple, I think. We eventually leave. Mumsy offers Monks Corner as it's the cheaper of the two [when I said fifty before, that was only for MC. Downtown would be $70 for just the license] and awaaaaaaaaay we go. We get to MC, I snicker at the barbershop, as I'm a twelve year old inside, and I weep at their trade-a-book being closed. Anyway, a stop at the library for Mumsy and crap, some building next door for Cass & Matt to get directions to the courthouse. They hit jackpot GOLD. The guy handing out directions is missing more than a few teeth, has an accent thicker than the legal limit, and actually says "down-a-ways" and some other phrase that I don't recall. Matt mocked the accent for the rest of the ride. Thumbs up. Easy enough to find courthouse. Money in hand, they go in, and Mumsy and I wait ... outside the jail.
They return, back to the mall we go, and that's Monday. I do make it to the bookstore, but they've got little that I want and my trade-ins are only half taken and I am sad.
Tuesday! Ryan is running late, as his original bus had an accident so they stuck him on the next bus. This was a bad idea as no one changed his tickets to reflect this, so none of the other drivers would let him on their bus despite the fact that it wasn't HIS idea to change buses. As a result, he spends an extra day, almost completely literally here, in Raleigh. He is not a happy camper. I am not thrilled. He misses the nuptials. Which I might have already detailed. Don't remember. If I did, there's no sense in rehashing. If not, I'll come back and fill in that blank. The only two things that bugged me were my inability to partake in the shots afterward [woe!] and my inability to photograph the actual 'ceremony.' Siiiiiiiiigh. As they drop me off, they mention they'll be celebrating out, and if Ryan's here, we should all get together. At the time that actually seemed like a possibility, I might add. It wasn't. The times for his ETA kept changing. At that point I think it was 9pm, then 2am, then 7am, and they finally settled on 2:30 in the afternoon. I've still got the note left on the fridge telling me of the change from 7am to 2:30.
Wednesday!
I should mention that by now my nerves are shot to hell. Not back, as that would put me on good, solid, nervy footing. Just shot to hell. We go pick up Widget and he's all excited because I'm there, and he asks why. I say I missed him [true!] and that we have to pick someone up. Thus the interrogation begins. Who? Why? Who? Why? Really, over and over, and what am I to say? Not a lot, because my hand is wrapped tightly around something or other in the car, my knuckles are white, and I'm thinking "breathe. It'll be okay. Breathe. If it goes badly, just tell Cassandra's family about the wedding. They'll kill you and it'll be okay. Win/win!"
Bus station, which is as it should be: a hole in the wall shit hole. Seriously, whomever made the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and decided our bus station was made of gold was on some crack or something, and I demand my fair share, thankyouverymuch. I spot him immediately for I have the glasses that make sight possible! Also, um, I know the guy, so of course I know he's the one outside with the bright green hat [Ireland, I'd later come to learn] and yeah, I just knew. Mumsy is elected person to go rustle him up, mainly because my hand will not move from whatever thing I've been clutching for the last twenty minutes, and also, I'm a wimp. There is no big theatrical reunion. There's just me asking Widget if he would ever so kindly refrain from beating Ryan up too much. Behold, I was right about green hat. I'm so smart. He gets in the car, says hey, and Widget begins his interrogation. It doesn't take long for Widget to decide that Ryan might be okay, and by the time we get home, he's decided he'll be staying with us, thank you very much, and Mumsy can take his dad to work and pick my father up from work all by herself.
Perhaps sensing someone new was to take the Widget's love away, the boy [my brother] gifts him with a Spiderman two-pack action figure set, and the Widget takes my mostly clean room and destroys it within seconds. I'm not kidding. I spent forever and a day cleaning and he totals it in no time at all. He and Ryan play and I'm not sure if I'm okay with the Widget sized buffer, or if I should just grow up and deal with the fact that yay, he's here, boo, I owe him so many ass kickings that I'll cripple him before the night is through.
Somehow Widget decides he and Ryan should attempt to beat the crap out of one another, and of course this means Widget must win. So they launch themselves at one another, tears are shed, bruises must be kissed, and egos must be fixed at various times. It was actually fun, if you ignore the fact that my hair kept getting pulled/yanked/tugged. They eventually tired themselves out, and crashed, both sure that while pillows are nice, Aunty Mar's are infinitely superior. A small discussion ensues and we watch Camp Lazlo. I've edited out most of Thomas's freakouts where he curls up in the corner of the room and pouts like mad every time he doesn't get his way. Lady, the puppy who is bigger than our other dog, but dammit, she's still a puppy!, looooooooved Ryan and kept trying to break into my room, and my room is not a Lady friendly place, so I'd said if you leave the room, that's it, you're gone. Widget was not happy about this and kept trying to weasel his other toys into the room. Or when Widge decided that I loved Ryan more than I loved him and so, sulking would fix all that. Bah I love my nephew, but he's a spoiled brat at times. The only thing that kept him alive was the fact that I don't really blame him for being sure I'd blow him off for time with Ryan, since that's what my brother does anytime he's got a girlfriend, or hell, even a friend over. The dog gets more attention than Widge does from his father during those times. My parents come home during one of these tantrums, but they don't really announce this and I'll tell you why.
Widget = best birth control EVER. "You want one of these that you can't just hand off when things get messy? I didn't think so!"
I don't remember much beyond that other than everyone circling the table, starving by the time dinner was actually served. We eventually fell asleep, which was harder for me than for him, what with no bus station in my immediate past, and also, it's really difficult for me to fall asleep with anyone else in the room, let alone the same bed. I have to be dead tired, and even then I'll wake up a million times. Also, twin beds still not made for two. So while not a cover hog this go round, definitely a bed hog.
I wake up at some ungodly hour, see Widge off to school, take a shower, and wait for sunshine to get the hell up. Much of Thursday is a blur, seeing as I had to work that night, but I think sometime in the early afternoon we watched either Supernatural or Idiocracy, which meant he spent the rest of forever quoting the movie. Seriously, the guy can't remember things that happened a day ago, but entire chunks of that movie are lodged in his brain. Go figure.
More Widget time was announced and had, and I think we had lunch out, and eventually I was put to bed because I kept yawning and sleeeep must be had. Apparently he asked when I woke up for work and freaked out thinking I was over sleeping, but no, I really do give myself 20 minutes, max, to wake up and get to hell out the door. It's fun. Work went by quickly, and the next morning Widget was the one who came to pick me up. Went to the bank, came home, and attempted to wake the dead so we could go out for breakfast. This didn't work. Widget and I were not thrilled, but Widge would not leave when Mom and Dad went out to breakfast and then off to return the spiffy rental. Woe.
Yeah, the fun parts have been edited and it only goes to Friday, but that means later you get the full story of the ghost story I've swiped for NaNo and the reception/wedding/reception deal that damn near broke us, as well as Sunday, Monday, and yes, even Tuesday, though really, those two don't count all that much, do they?
We'll begin with Monday. I get a frantic sort of pleading IM from Cass who mentions that with Cleo [her car] repossessed, they have no way to get the courthouse and could I think of anyone, gosh anyone at all, who would take them? Um, okay, I'll ask Mumsy, but since her two choices are downtown and Monks Corner, I'm thinking you'd best beat someone up for taxi fare, babycakes. But to my surprise, Mumsy agrees. And then I figure out why. I'd asked her to take me to the Summerville Trade-A-Book and to do both things would prove impossible! Gasp! Especially when Cass keeps adding things to the itinerary, like once Mumsy sort of agreed, we were working on her schedule now. Which, alas, is typical. First we had to wait for Matt, whom I thought was just down at BAM and if she had a minion covering the store, why'd she need him there too? [Duh, she needed him to go with, but not really, as they only need one person to fill out the paperwork. Live and learn.] And then she needed a friend of theirs to show up to work and lend her money to pay for the paperwork, cuz what with them being broke and all, they didn't have a spare $50 lying around. That's about the time I realized I wasn't getting my book trip and whined. I know, I know, my best friend is getting married and I'm whining about a book store trip. How selfish, blah blah blah, yes?
Well, yes, but it's also my vacation and y'know, I'm not always fond of her groom, k? So the idea of lounging around all morning waiting for her to call back was not appealing. But Mumsy says to hell with this, if not for waiting on the money, would we have to wait for anything else? Matt to arrive, but he's on his way, fine, here's $50, let's go. And so we did. Can I just say that the rental truck we had that week was fantastic? My only two problems were that it was a bitch to open the door from the inside [it was easier to roll the windows down and open them from outside] annnnnnd I don't like little things beeping at me, telling me that I'm not wearing my seatbelt. I really don't. If I want to take a header through the windshield, it's my fucking choice.
Anyway. We go, we wait around for Matt. I admire the pretty calenders. Mumsy buys a couple, I think. We eventually leave. Mumsy offers Monks Corner as it's the cheaper of the two [when I said fifty before, that was only for MC. Downtown would be $70 for just the license] and awaaaaaaaaay we go. We get to MC, I snicker at the barbershop, as I'm a twelve year old inside, and I weep at their trade-a-book being closed. Anyway, a stop at the library for Mumsy and crap, some building next door for Cass & Matt to get directions to the courthouse. They hit jackpot GOLD. The guy handing out directions is missing more than a few teeth, has an accent thicker than the legal limit, and actually says "down-a-ways" and some other phrase that I don't recall. Matt mocked the accent for the rest of the ride. Thumbs up. Easy enough to find courthouse. Money in hand, they go in, and Mumsy and I wait ... outside the jail.
They return, back to the mall we go, and that's Monday. I do make it to the bookstore, but they've got little that I want and my trade-ins are only half taken and I am sad.
Tuesday! Ryan is running late, as his original bus had an accident so they stuck him on the next bus. This was a bad idea as no one changed his tickets to reflect this, so none of the other drivers would let him on their bus despite the fact that it wasn't HIS idea to change buses. As a result, he spends an extra day, almost completely literally here, in Raleigh. He is not a happy camper. I am not thrilled. He misses the nuptials. Which I might have already detailed. Don't remember. If I did, there's no sense in rehashing. If not, I'll come back and fill in that blank. The only two things that bugged me were my inability to partake in the shots afterward [woe!] and my inability to photograph the actual 'ceremony.' Siiiiiiiiigh. As they drop me off, they mention they'll be celebrating out, and if Ryan's here, we should all get together. At the time that actually seemed like a possibility, I might add. It wasn't. The times for his ETA kept changing. At that point I think it was 9pm, then 2am, then 7am, and they finally settled on 2:30 in the afternoon. I've still got the note left on the fridge telling me of the change from 7am to 2:30.
Wednesday!
I should mention that by now my nerves are shot to hell. Not back, as that would put me on good, solid, nervy footing. Just shot to hell. We go pick up Widget and he's all excited because I'm there, and he asks why. I say I missed him [true!] and that we have to pick someone up. Thus the interrogation begins. Who? Why? Who? Why? Really, over and over, and what am I to say? Not a lot, because my hand is wrapped tightly around something or other in the car, my knuckles are white, and I'm thinking "breathe. It'll be okay. Breathe. If it goes badly, just tell Cassandra's family about the wedding. They'll kill you and it'll be okay. Win/win!"
Bus station, which is as it should be: a hole in the wall shit hole. Seriously, whomever made the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and decided our bus station was made of gold was on some crack or something, and I demand my fair share, thankyouverymuch. I spot him immediately for I have the glasses that make sight possible! Also, um, I know the guy, so of course I know he's the one outside with the bright green hat [Ireland, I'd later come to learn] and yeah, I just knew. Mumsy is elected person to go rustle him up, mainly because my hand will not move from whatever thing I've been clutching for the last twenty minutes, and also, I'm a wimp. There is no big theatrical reunion. There's just me asking Widget if he would ever so kindly refrain from beating Ryan up too much. Behold, I was right about green hat. I'm so smart. He gets in the car, says hey, and Widget begins his interrogation. It doesn't take long for Widget to decide that Ryan might be okay, and by the time we get home, he's decided he'll be staying with us, thank you very much, and Mumsy can take his dad to work and pick my father up from work all by herself.
Perhaps sensing someone new was to take the Widget's love away, the boy [my brother] gifts him with a Spiderman two-pack action figure set, and the Widget takes my mostly clean room and destroys it within seconds. I'm not kidding. I spent forever and a day cleaning and he totals it in no time at all. He and Ryan play and I'm not sure if I'm okay with the Widget sized buffer, or if I should just grow up and deal with the fact that yay, he's here, boo, I owe him so many ass kickings that I'll cripple him before the night is through.
Somehow Widget decides he and Ryan should attempt to beat the crap out of one another, and of course this means Widget must win. So they launch themselves at one another, tears are shed, bruises must be kissed, and egos must be fixed at various times. It was actually fun, if you ignore the fact that my hair kept getting pulled/yanked/tugged. They eventually tired themselves out, and crashed, both sure that while pillows are nice, Aunty Mar's are infinitely superior. A small discussion ensues and we watch Camp Lazlo. I've edited out most of Thomas's freakouts where he curls up in the corner of the room and pouts like mad every time he doesn't get his way. Lady, the puppy who is bigger than our other dog, but dammit, she's still a puppy!, looooooooved Ryan and kept trying to break into my room, and my room is not a Lady friendly place, so I'd said if you leave the room, that's it, you're gone. Widget was not happy about this and kept trying to weasel his other toys into the room. Or when Widge decided that I loved Ryan more than I loved him and so, sulking would fix all that. Bah I love my nephew, but he's a spoiled brat at times. The only thing that kept him alive was the fact that I don't really blame him for being sure I'd blow him off for time with Ryan, since that's what my brother does anytime he's got a girlfriend, or hell, even a friend over. The dog gets more attention than Widge does from his father during those times. My parents come home during one of these tantrums, but they don't really announce this and I'll tell you why.
Widget = best birth control EVER. "You want one of these that you can't just hand off when things get messy? I didn't think so!"
I don't remember much beyond that other than everyone circling the table, starving by the time dinner was actually served. We eventually fell asleep, which was harder for me than for him, what with no bus station in my immediate past, and also, it's really difficult for me to fall asleep with anyone else in the room, let alone the same bed. I have to be dead tired, and even then I'll wake up a million times. Also, twin beds still not made for two. So while not a cover hog this go round, definitely a bed hog.
I wake up at some ungodly hour, see Widge off to school, take a shower, and wait for sunshine to get the hell up. Much of Thursday is a blur, seeing as I had to work that night, but I think sometime in the early afternoon we watched either Supernatural or Idiocracy, which meant he spent the rest of forever quoting the movie. Seriously, the guy can't remember things that happened a day ago, but entire chunks of that movie are lodged in his brain. Go figure.
More Widget time was announced and had, and I think we had lunch out, and eventually I was put to bed because I kept yawning and sleeeep must be had. Apparently he asked when I woke up for work and freaked out thinking I was over sleeping, but no, I really do give myself 20 minutes, max, to wake up and get to hell out the door. It's fun. Work went by quickly, and the next morning Widget was the one who came to pick me up. Went to the bank, came home, and attempted to wake the dead so we could go out for breakfast. This didn't work. Widget and I were not thrilled, but Widge would not leave when Mom and Dad went out to breakfast and then off to return the spiffy rental. Woe.
Yeah, the fun parts have been edited and it only goes to Friday, but that means later you get the full story of the ghost story I've swiped for NaNo and the reception/wedding/reception deal that damn near broke us, as well as Sunday, Monday, and yes, even Tuesday, though really, those two don't count all that much, do they?