Because our fitness center was closed today, I went and used the facilities down the street. I used to be a member, so I only had to pay a nominal fee. Looking back on my membership there, I realize what it was about that place that just didn't rub me the right way. Aside from the fact that both the weights, and cardio equipment rooms overlooked busting Walnut Street, there is just too much testosterone in that place. Don’t get me wrong, its a great place, but not quite as private as my usually fitness facility.
Funny things that occur at this place:
1. People pick their wedgies while on the cardio equipment...forgetting that all traffic and pedestrian on Walnut Street have just beared (is this a word) witness to the event
2. People taking Pilates or yoga engage in downward dog, or squats with their rears facing the street (it was quite a sight with all the people joining to kick off the new year in January)
3. The boys who are more vain that the evil queen in snow white...."Mirror mirror on the wall.....who has the biggest biceps of them all??"
4. The facilities men who (while working) have been known to put down the tools, brooms, etc and engage in a workout. hey, I've got no problem with you working out, but can you not place the drill in the middle of the floor where I'm going to trip on it (when I'm in the work out zone, I'm like in auto pilot).
So here are my final thoughts on gym etiquette:
1) Please, no growling or yelling when you lift. ..you sound like you are defecating barbells.
2) Remember the Seinfeld when George empties his bladder in the shower? Do not be a George.
3) Ladies, do not be a li'l Kim. If we can see your nipples than your shirt is inappropriate.
4) Guys, do not be a Fabio.
5) keep dumbbells and other free weights in your hands or on the racks. Dropping dumbbells doesn't make you look cool and you are going to give the old lady on the stationary bike a heart attack.
6) Remember to wipe your sweat from the machines you use. They are YOUR bodily fluids and no one else wants to bathe in them
AND FINALLY.......
7) Talking on your cell phone at the gym...when there is a line 10 people deep to get on a treadmill, is it really necessary to waddle along, gabbing away? Honestly, none of us are there to listen you what you need to pick up dinner, who you slept with last night, or just how much you want to get that new Coach purse.
It's the gym people. Take your 60 minutes as a break from technology-really, nothing that interesting will happen while you widdle your waist, build your bones, and clear your mind. IF you are using a treadmill, at a speed less than 6 mph, you aren't working out, you are wasting space.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
well hello mr. delivery man
Yesterday, after a fleeting moment of panic, I managed to find 18 month old Joe after he wandered away from his mother and I at his older brothers nursery school "dance party." I really didn't think much of it, all in a days work, right? Isn't that what you do for people you care the world about? Needles to say, that was the beginning of my interesting day.
After arriving home, I proceeded to witness the homeless people rip though my garbage and comment on my "wastefulness" (hey, I'm trying to move and purge my collections). Then I got a phone call back from a realtor in NY who pretty much told me that I was "too particular" for within my desired budget (so shoot me...so much for 'standards').
Then while spending my 3+ hours per day studying for my boards (I use an online question bank) my computer entered is schizophrenic mode. It starts making this loud humming, which progresses into a vibrating, that leads to the generation of heat. I've had this problem intermittently for a few months now, but I usually remedy the problem by turning off the laptop and waiting (patiently). The problem caused me so much stress a few months ago, that I went out and spend the $350 on the "3-year extended warranty, Apple Protection Plan". However, when I Called to request service they told me that its a 14 day turnout on repairs (what?!?!?). Yeah, like a college student who gets about 2 million emails (Even if they are mostly irrelevant) and who has to use the computer for school, can really go 14+ days without it. Wait, I know what you are thinking...the library, correct? I refer you to my previous post (boy it would be cool if I knew how to insert those nifty links here)...I don't do the library (although, I wish I could).
But I digress. Oh yes, so my computer was spastic. I turned it off for 4 hours, did some errands and came back...but immediately upon hitting the power button, the spasticity resumed.
Damn! Oh well, no more studying for the night. Well, that was kind of a lie...I used the book and make some review cards and learn some (rather uninteresting) information about ATK (above the knee) and BTK (below the knee) amputation management. After that fun and exciting ordeal was done, I ON-DEMANDED (hmm, I don't think this is a word) a movie, The Holiday- starring Kate Winselt and Cameron Diaz. Great movie, nice and fluffy. Exactly what I wanted.
By this point it was 12:30a.m. and I had been up since 5:30 a.m., so I went to "bed" (aka my aerobed). I'm sure that I had lovely dreams, but I don't remember them. The next thing that I do remember is hearing a VERY LOUD banging, more like a pounding on my door at exactly 8:37 a.m. After waking from my deep sleep, and wiping the drool off my face( I know, so sexy...it's the curse of still wearing my retainers to bed),
I hopped out of bed, walked to the door and said, "Yeaaahhsssss Whooo.." Before I could finish my sentence, the man replied, "Special delivery for Kelly." I fumbled with the lock and opened the door. The man’s eyes widened and he sort of pulled back in a flinching manner. “Whatever”, I thought. He thrusts the clip board in front of me and says, "sign here." After realizing that I still had sleepies in my eyes, and that I signed the wrong line, I crossed it out, signed my name again, and received the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. I thanked the man and closed the door.
After reading the card (a very unnecessary, and extremely generous, thank you note from Joe's family) and then placing the flowers on the counter (remember, I have no furniture) I caught a glimpse of myself in the microwaves reflection. and now I know why the man looked at me so funny. Ladies and gentleman, my right boob was hanging out of my white tank top.(well not really hanging, I don’t have enough of a chest for that, more like my tank top positioned below by right boob.)
Ok, Mr. flower delivery man, hope the rest of your day was good.
After arriving home, I proceeded to witness the homeless people rip though my garbage and comment on my "wastefulness" (hey, I'm trying to move and purge my collections). Then I got a phone call back from a realtor in NY who pretty much told me that I was "too particular" for within my desired budget (so shoot me...so much for 'standards').
Then while spending my 3+ hours per day studying for my boards (I use an online question bank) my computer entered is schizophrenic mode. It starts making this loud humming, which progresses into a vibrating, that leads to the generation of heat. I've had this problem intermittently for a few months now, but I usually remedy the problem by turning off the laptop and waiting (patiently). The problem caused me so much stress a few months ago, that I went out and spend the $350 on the "3-year extended warranty, Apple Protection Plan". However, when I Called to request service they told me that its a 14 day turnout on repairs (what?!?!?). Yeah, like a college student who gets about 2 million emails (Even if they are mostly irrelevant) and who has to use the computer for school, can really go 14+ days without it. Wait, I know what you are thinking...the library, correct? I refer you to my previous post (boy it would be cool if I knew how to insert those nifty links here)...I don't do the library (although, I wish I could).
But I digress. Oh yes, so my computer was spastic. I turned it off for 4 hours, did some errands and came back...but immediately upon hitting the power button, the spasticity resumed.
Damn! Oh well, no more studying for the night. Well, that was kind of a lie...I used the book and make some review cards and learn some (rather uninteresting) information about ATK (above the knee) and BTK (below the knee) amputation management. After that fun and exciting ordeal was done, I ON-DEMANDED (hmm, I don't think this is a word) a movie, The Holiday- starring Kate Winselt and Cameron Diaz. Great movie, nice and fluffy. Exactly what I wanted.
By this point it was 12:30a.m. and I had been up since 5:30 a.m., so I went to "bed" (aka my aerobed). I'm sure that I had lovely dreams, but I don't remember them. The next thing that I do remember is hearing a VERY LOUD banging, more like a pounding on my door at exactly 8:37 a.m. After waking from my deep sleep, and wiping the drool off my face( I know, so sexy...it's the curse of still wearing my retainers to bed),
I hopped out of bed, walked to the door and said, "Yeaaahhsssss Whooo.." Before I could finish my sentence, the man replied, "Special delivery for Kelly." I fumbled with the lock and opened the door. The man’s eyes widened and he sort of pulled back in a flinching manner. “Whatever”, I thought. He thrusts the clip board in front of me and says, "sign here." After realizing that I still had sleepies in my eyes, and that I signed the wrong line, I crossed it out, signed my name again, and received the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. I thanked the man and closed the door.
After reading the card (a very unnecessary, and extremely generous, thank you note from Joe's family) and then placing the flowers on the counter (remember, I have no furniture) I caught a glimpse of myself in the microwaves reflection. and now I know why the man looked at me so funny. Ladies and gentleman, my right boob was hanging out of my white tank top.(well not really hanging, I don’t have enough of a chest for that, more like my tank top positioned below by right boob.)
Ok, Mr. flower delivery man, hope the rest of your day was good.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Moving out, and ? (up) ?
and here I am, sitting on the floor of my empty living room with nothing more than a TV, a floor pillow, a vacuum, and a rather tacky folding wood table. Yes people, it's official. I'm getting ready to move out and it sucks.
I'm amazing at the agony of moving. How I have managed to amass such large amounts of crap over the past four years is perplexing. The papers from freshman year (lord knows I wouldn't dare ever reference them EVER again...I'm pretty sure that was the year that my writing seminar professor told me that, "You have a penchant for writing superfluous nothing"- well you know what Steve, glad to know you didn't approve, but I still managed to graduate Magna Cum Laude from Penn); the incessant number of free tee-shirts (do I really need to keep the t-shirt from "beer- mitzvah"?); every card sent to me from family and friends; rose petals from the ex-boyfriend (he clearly broke my heart, so why save the reminders?); the stub from the parking ticket that I had to pay (I swear, I didn't see the fire hydrant there when I got home at 2 am); the coupons for $0.50 off a salad (like it really makes a difference when the salad comes out to $12.00...why do I get punished for trying to eat healthy); the approximately 157 recipes that I have pulled from magazine or off the computer (seriously, just who would I cook a 5 course meal for that includes everything from fillet mignon to champagne granita); and of course, more pens, pencils, markers, post-its, and desk supplies than I thought humanly necessary.
At first, the idea of packing up to move to NY seemed so appealing. I envisioned living the lavish NY lifestyle, I’d no longer be a student living off of ramenn noodles and frozen vegetables, but I'd be a *real* person, with a fancy apartment, organic foods, a job, and (drum roll please) a paycheck! However, I seem to have overlooked the process of obtaining the new lifestyle, the transition phase if you will.
Aside from my parents being amazingly supportive and making the 6 hour drive to cart all of stuff home, there were some things that would not be making the voyage back to beantown before the trip to NY. The clean out began when my roommate moved out taking our kitchen table, some kitchen supplies, a bookcase, a few rugs, etc. No big loss, I could manage. She was kind enough to leave things that were essential (a TV, a vacuum, a bathmat) hahah. The cleanout continued with first sale of my furniture. For instance, my bed . Of course, that sold super fast; however, it left me bedless. I sold them to an underclassman who moved out the end of April (yup, its now the end of May and I'm still here), so I have been lapping in luxury as I get my beauty sleep on a twin size aero bed ( a far cry from my plush pillow top full-size bed). Alright, fair enough. It's still a bed.
And then there was the futon. Now it was less than a year old, and amazingly comfortable, but in all honesty, way to bulky to move to NY, especially with the high likelihood that I'll be living in a walk-up with narrow hallways and doors. No thanks, I'll pass on attempting that maneuver. So after numerous postings on craigslist, vast numbers of emails sent to list-serves of student groups, fraternities and sororities, and yes, even a few personalized pleas to people that I knew were staying in the area next year, I finally got an offer off craigslist. The man and his son came and picked it up 2 nights ago. But to my surprise, they showed up with a hatchback, yup, a little Honda Civic. I thought, Oh Lord, there is no way in hell that this beast of a futon is getting in that little bit of a car. But I was happily surprised to see them artfully fold the cushion into the back seat and then strap the metal frame onto the roof. I hope they didn't have too far to drive. Oh well, I got my money. So now, I have no bed, no couch, and..... I also got rid of my desk. This has made studying for my RN boards a bit tricky. Sitting on the floor is not comfortable, I can't go to the library (in my entire 4 years at Penn I have studied maybe 3 times on the library....what can I say, it's too distracting, I love to people watch), and when I study at Bucks County coffee ( I end up drinking more caffeine than is healthy and last time, I was having palpitations by the end of my 5 hour study session). Alas, I have reverted to moving my aero bed into the living room, placing the pillows against the wall, and creating a makeshift lap-table/desk.
But the coup de resistance (actually, I don't think this phrase fits here, but I have been dying to use it) was when my dad drove down 2 days ago to take EVERYTHING else, leaving me with only my aero bed, some personal items/cosmetics, my bike, and some clothes (I accidentally gave him the bad with all my pants, so now all I have to wear for the next 2 weeks is shorts, sweatpants, workout clothes, and of course all of my fancy dresses...fine choices for a day of studying, or an afternoon of babysitting...whoops!). So, QUESTION: where does this leave me? Answer: Sitting on my living room floor, wearing sweatpants and high heels, eating off of paper plates with plastic spoons, watching a cable less TV, while trying to study. Oh yes, I'm clearly on my way to living the glorious NY life. :)
I'm amazing at the agony of moving. How I have managed to amass such large amounts of crap over the past four years is perplexing. The papers from freshman year (lord knows I wouldn't dare ever reference them EVER again...I'm pretty sure that was the year that my writing seminar professor told me that, "You have a penchant for writing superfluous nothing"- well you know what Steve, glad to know you didn't approve, but I still managed to graduate Magna Cum Laude from Penn); the incessant number of free tee-shirts (do I really need to keep the t-shirt from "beer- mitzvah"?); every card sent to me from family and friends; rose petals from the ex-boyfriend (he clearly broke my heart, so why save the reminders?); the stub from the parking ticket that I had to pay (I swear, I didn't see the fire hydrant there when I got home at 2 am); the coupons for $0.50 off a salad (like it really makes a difference when the salad comes out to $12.00...why do I get punished for trying to eat healthy); the approximately 157 recipes that I have pulled from magazine or off the computer (seriously, just who would I cook a 5 course meal for that includes everything from fillet mignon to champagne granita); and of course, more pens, pencils, markers, post-its, and desk supplies than I thought humanly necessary.
At first, the idea of packing up to move to NY seemed so appealing. I envisioned living the lavish NY lifestyle, I’d no longer be a student living off of ramenn noodles and frozen vegetables, but I'd be a *real* person, with a fancy apartment, organic foods, a job, and (drum roll please) a paycheck! However, I seem to have overlooked the process of obtaining the new lifestyle, the transition phase if you will.
Aside from my parents being amazingly supportive and making the 6 hour drive to cart all of stuff home, there were some things that would not be making the voyage back to beantown before the trip to NY. The clean out began when my roommate moved out taking our kitchen table, some kitchen supplies, a bookcase, a few rugs, etc. No big loss, I could manage. She was kind enough to leave things that were essential (a TV, a vacuum, a bathmat) hahah. The cleanout continued with first sale of my furniture. For instance, my bed . Of course, that sold super fast; however, it left me bedless. I sold them to an underclassman who moved out the end of April (yup, its now the end of May and I'm still here), so I have been lapping in luxury as I get my beauty sleep on a twin size aero bed ( a far cry from my plush pillow top full-size bed). Alright, fair enough. It's still a bed.
And then there was the futon. Now it was less than a year old, and amazingly comfortable, but in all honesty, way to bulky to move to NY, especially with the high likelihood that I'll be living in a walk-up with narrow hallways and doors. No thanks, I'll pass on attempting that maneuver. So after numerous postings on craigslist, vast numbers of emails sent to list-serves of student groups, fraternities and sororities, and yes, even a few personalized pleas to people that I knew were staying in the area next year, I finally got an offer off craigslist. The man and his son came and picked it up 2 nights ago. But to my surprise, they showed up with a hatchback, yup, a little Honda Civic. I thought, Oh Lord, there is no way in hell that this beast of a futon is getting in that little bit of a car. But I was happily surprised to see them artfully fold the cushion into the back seat and then strap the metal frame onto the roof. I hope they didn't have too far to drive. Oh well, I got my money. So now, I have no bed, no couch, and..... I also got rid of my desk. This has made studying for my RN boards a bit tricky. Sitting on the floor is not comfortable, I can't go to the library (in my entire 4 years at Penn I have studied maybe 3 times on the library....what can I say, it's too distracting, I love to people watch), and when I study at Bucks County coffee ( I end up drinking more caffeine than is healthy and last time, I was having palpitations by the end of my 5 hour study session). Alas, I have reverted to moving my aero bed into the living room, placing the pillows against the wall, and creating a makeshift lap-table/desk.
But the coup de resistance (actually, I don't think this phrase fits here, but I have been dying to use it) was when my dad drove down 2 days ago to take EVERYTHING else, leaving me with only my aero bed, some personal items/cosmetics, my bike, and some clothes (I accidentally gave him the bad with all my pants, so now all I have to wear for the next 2 weeks is shorts, sweatpants, workout clothes, and of course all of my fancy dresses...fine choices for a day of studying, or an afternoon of babysitting...whoops!). So, QUESTION: where does this leave me? Answer: Sitting on my living room floor, wearing sweatpants and high heels, eating off of paper plates with plastic spoons, watching a cable less TV, while trying to study. Oh yes, I'm clearly on my way to living the glorious NY life. :)
Monday, May 21, 2007
stuff you don't need to know, but soon will learn...
While reading a fellow bloggers posting, I was "tagged" to continue this "chain action", of sorts. So here it goes, all I have to do is tell 8 habits/things about myself...
8. While in high school, my dad and I won a tequila shot contest in Aruba. Oh yes, my mother has never been so proud. That night she got to tuck in both her drunk daughter and her laugh vigorously at the photos of her husband doing the "dollar dance" post victory
7. My sister and I couldn't be more opposite.
She's leggy, busty, a soccer star, extremely outgoing, a socialite, comes up with the best one line zingers of anyone that I know, and is a Hollister/ Abercrombie and Fitch kind of girl.
I am petite, MUCH less endowed, a gym rat, enjoy more intimate settings, a thinker, am great at sentimental BS, and am a J.Crew/Banana Republic kind of girl.
6. I am the worlds worst typer (literally, if it weren't for spell check, I'm not sure that you could tell if I were communicating in English). It's not that I'm intellectually lacking, my mind just goes faster than my fingers....
5. A dirty kitchen is my pet peeve. I can't go to bed at night with dirty dishes in the sink, nor can I relax after a holiday meal if the kitchen is a mess......now my bedroom floor, well that's a whole other story!
4. I love the "treasures" inside foods. The extra raisins in oatmeal raisin cookies, the chunks of cookie in cookie dough ice cream, the strawberry chunks in the jelly, the apples in apple pie. It's weird, I know, but who needs the outside when all the good stuff is in the middle??
3. I did a faceplant at a bar before our sorority semi formal. Oh yes, they still talk about it, EVERY TIME we go there. Highlight of that night, the "are you okay *extra* attention I got from my date
2. My best friend and I have NEVER gone to school together. We are used to existing in 2 separate worlds, but when we do reunite, we pick up right where we left off. It's amazing, its never awkward and its what has taught me what friends are all about.
1. If you listen to me speak, you would never guess where I'm from. Someone actually asked me if I went to "finishing school" to perfect my English (jeez, only at a place like Penn would you get that question). Note* All this goes to the wind, the minute you hear either one of my parents open their mouth....they “pahk thayre cahs in the haavahad yahd”). God, I hope you got that hint.
Okay, so if nothing else, you were able to kill a few minutes of your time (procrastinating some task, I'm sure) and learn a little bit more about me.
8. While in high school, my dad and I won a tequila shot contest in Aruba. Oh yes, my mother has never been so proud. That night she got to tuck in both her drunk daughter and her laugh vigorously at the photos of her husband doing the "dollar dance" post victory
7. My sister and I couldn't be more opposite.
She's leggy, busty, a soccer star, extremely outgoing, a socialite, comes up with the best one line zingers of anyone that I know, and is a Hollister/ Abercrombie and Fitch kind of girl.
I am petite, MUCH less endowed, a gym rat, enjoy more intimate settings, a thinker, am great at sentimental BS, and am a J.Crew/Banana Republic kind of girl.
6. I am the worlds worst typer (literally, if it weren't for spell check, I'm not sure that you could tell if I were communicating in English). It's not that I'm intellectually lacking, my mind just goes faster than my fingers....
5. A dirty kitchen is my pet peeve. I can't go to bed at night with dirty dishes in the sink, nor can I relax after a holiday meal if the kitchen is a mess......now my bedroom floor, well that's a whole other story!
4. I love the "treasures" inside foods. The extra raisins in oatmeal raisin cookies, the chunks of cookie in cookie dough ice cream, the strawberry chunks in the jelly, the apples in apple pie. It's weird, I know, but who needs the outside when all the good stuff is in the middle??
3. I did a faceplant at a bar before our sorority semi formal. Oh yes, they still talk about it, EVERY TIME we go there. Highlight of that night, the "are you okay *extra* attention I got from my date
2. My best friend and I have NEVER gone to school together. We are used to existing in 2 separate worlds, but when we do reunite, we pick up right where we left off. It's amazing, its never awkward and its what has taught me what friends are all about.
1. If you listen to me speak, you would never guess where I'm from. Someone actually asked me if I went to "finishing school" to perfect my English (jeez, only at a place like Penn would you get that question). Note* All this goes to the wind, the minute you hear either one of my parents open their mouth....they “pahk thayre cahs in the haavahad yahd”). God, I hope you got that hint.
Okay, so if nothing else, you were able to kill a few minutes of your time (procrastinating some task, I'm sure) and learn a little bit more about me.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Comedy of Errors
So apparently, it’s been almost 3 months since I wrote anything.. I can assure you, things have happened since then, but I was so busy that I barely had time to jot them down. Now that I’ve graduated (oh yes, the big day was Monday the 14th), I swear I’m going to be more diligent about writing.
But, just in case you were wondering what’s been going on these past few weeks.,,,,here is my comedy of errors. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
I’ll begin with last Friday (the day after Walnut Walk i.e. 40 block, 12 hour bar crawl with the rest of the drunken Penn “Class of 2007” seniors). When I returned home after the bar crawl, I noticed that my bedroom light was acting like it was tripping on LSD (come on, flash, flicker, dimly glow, flash, repeat the cycle…) Seeing as I have cathedral ceilings with fluorescent lights, the landlord’s worker crew would have to come and change the bulb. I called them , and they said they would send someone over. While I was at the gym, they left me a voicemail telling me that they were sending someone over at 11:30. When I got back at 12:30, the ladder was still set up in my room, but the worker was no where in sight. I waited 15 minutes and then the guy came back. He was in and out for the next hour, so I showered and then told them I was leaving. I knew they had keys, and that they would lock up. So when I got home at 5pm, I come in and notice that my bedroom door is closed (tightly)...it's never closed tightly, it always sticks. I just assumed that they must have filed the door and fixed it while they were here (yet another issue that I asked them to fix). But when I tried to open the door, it wouldn't budge and the knob wouldn't turn. I tried to body slam the door (highly ineffective), and called the landlord...but clearly, they were gone at 5pm on a Friday. So I was bewildered as to what to do???
I walked around my apartment and contemplated my options. I was convinced that the door was just stuck, so I walked to the boys house across the street. One of them opened the door and just from looking at me was like, "oh Kelly...what did you do this time??haha) I told them that I just needed one of them to come over and kick on my door (I was clearly in denial and thought it was just “stuck”). So my 6'’3 neighbor friend comes over and started beating on the door like a mad man. It wouldn't budge, he was like, "you must have a lock on this door..." I was still convinced that I didn't. We tried taking the knob off, but it was painted to the door and not budging. So we concluded that we had to bust down the door...10 minutes of body slamming and kicking the door (it's in a tight hallways so there really wasn't any "wind up" room with his long legs) and we cracked the door open. So I am now the proud owner of a” Dutch door"...a top 1/2, a bottom 1/2 and the handle. Apparently, I did have a lock and the repair men locked the door when they left. Now why they did this, I don't know...especially because there isn't a key whole on the outside to let me back in. I called the landlord and left a message, informing them that I was going to need a new door. Seeing it was there retarded error (Who locks a door that can’t be unlocked from the other side) I informed them that I didn’t think I should have to pay for the damages. To my disbelief, they agreed.
And now moving onto the rest of the weekend.
My family was supposed to be arriving on Sunday. My mom, her sister, and my little sister were flying down, and my dad and his sister were driving down (I needed a car to get a lot of my stuff home). My mom’s flight was supposed to leave at 11:30, but at 10 am I get a call. It was my mom telling me that my dad was throwing up and that he had a migraine and was light headed. HE tried to drive (why he thought he could make a 6 hour drive in this state, I have no idea!?!?!?) but puked before reaching the end of the street, so turned around went back to bed. He was convinced that he would try again later in the day. My mom, aunt, and sister boarded their flight. I met them at the pregraduation festivities and my mom said, “Well Kel…dad isn’t driving. He’s going to fly in late tonight. He thought he could fly in at 6am, but don’t worry, I told him he had to get on the plan TONIGHT, even if he was puking, A 50 minute flight is better than a 6 hour drive” (Gee mom, that was so considerate of you…I’m sure that all the people on the flight are going to be thrilled. Hahah Anyways, he (and my other aunt) made it into Philly late that night. I guess my dad was fine, he felt much better…
Well Monday (graduation) was amazing. The weather was beautiful, the ceremony was great, and best of all (at least for my parents) they could rejoice at not having to write any more tuition checks (at least until Sessler #2 heads off to school, haha).
There was an interesting twist on Monday evening when I lost my cell phone at the restaurant where we had dinner. My family and the two families that I babysit for (14 of us in all) enjoyed a lovely dinner, but as the kiddos got rambunctious and started to run around, my purse got knocked off the chair. I picked up , what I thought was everything, and put the purse back on the chair. However, when I got home, I realized that my cell phone was no where to be found. Shit, what to do??? At first I was like, oh, I’ll just call the restaurant and see if they found it. WAIT, that’s right, I can’t do that! I lost my phone! But seeing as I don't have a land line, I wasn't really sure what to do. I had no way of contact any of my friends to meet up with the later, and I couldn't get in touch with my parents to have them help me out. Oh yeah, there was also that detail about having to meet up with them the next day, but I didn’t know where there hotel was located. Still bewildered about the predicament that I found myself in, I ended up having to go and borrow my neighbors cell phone to call my parents and get their hotel info and have them contact the restaurant. Did I mention that I’m not really friends with this kid and oh yeah, he answered the door in his boxers (red hearts….I’m pretty sure that he wasn’t along, whoops!) He told me to take the phone and then he came down a few minutes later and handed me his landline cordless phone to keep until the morning. At least I would be able to call my parents and let them know when I was coming over.. So that would have been great, except it died after I made one call. Oh well, it was the thought that counts.
So I was back at square one.
I had briefly gotten a hold of my mom and dad and they tried to call the restaurant, but they got "fluffed off" and the girl put them on hold for about 3 seconds, said- nope. not there. we'll call you if it turns up. (My mom called back and said, "well if you are going to call us, here is the number...then she hung up, haha).
Anyways, I went to bed, miserable and stressed. I didn’t get to go out and celebrate with my friends. College was over, my phone was lost, and I had no contact with the rest of the world.
I got up the next day and drove to what I thought was my parents hotel, but there were two Sheratons (a suites and a four points...) I went to the wrong one first, only realizing it was wrong after they told me there were no "Sesslers" registered at this hotel. I was ready to cry and they told me to go across the plaza to the other hotel. When I got there, I asked for my parents room, but they said that they don't give out room #'s and to call guest services. After finally getting connected with the operator, she asked if I wanted "Paul" or "Susan". I said it didn't matter because they were both our rooms (I knew my aunt and sister were in the other). Well I tried one, and there was no answer, so I went back through the operator and got connected to the other room...still no answer. At this point, I was ready to just sit down and pout until they gave me the info. Luckily, I just happened to glance around the corner and saw my family eating breakfast in the restaurant. They all got a good laugh out of my comedy of errors, but I lost it. I burst out crying and just sobbed and sobbed. Thank god that breakfast was over because it surely was a water works display for the few lingering guests. Plus, the napkins were cloth and my nose was runny….FYI, if you ever stay at this hotel, don’t use the napkins at dinner…I wiped my nose on them. haha.
My family was great at consoling me, But then we still needed to address the issue of the phone. Because the plan is in my mom's name, technically she had to go get the new phone, but instead she called and did something, so I was able to go to the store -once I got back to campus...(yes, we have a cingular, verizon, and sprint stores on campus....welcome to the city, haha). After finally picking out a phone, I am then told that they are discontinuing that particular one and that they can't sell it to me (so I wanted to know why it was still on display?!?!). Two choices later (the man really didn't get my point that I didn't need and/or want a MP3 player and video camera on the phone) I got my phone. I went through the activation line and walked out. I walk back to my house and try and call my parents (who were now on the plane home) only to hear, "We're sorry...your phone must 1st be activated and you must accept the terms on the service plan".... SO I walk back to the store, speak with a different guy and the issue finally gets resolved. And for the icing on the cake, I called the restaurant, just to see if by some miracle the phone had been found. I explained my situation to the woman and she asked me where I had been sitting. I told her, she went and looked, and came back and said, "Yup, it was right were you thought it was... under the table." After all that!
And here I am now. Actually, as I type this the repair men are putting up a new door (speaking their broken Chinese-English…I’m pretty sure that they are making fun of me and my “special door”) so that’s what’s new with me. Stay tuned, I’m sure there are more fun times to come.
But, just in case you were wondering what’s been going on these past few weeks.,,,,here is my comedy of errors. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
I’ll begin with last Friday (the day after Walnut Walk i.e. 40 block, 12 hour bar crawl with the rest of the drunken Penn “Class of 2007” seniors). When I returned home after the bar crawl, I noticed that my bedroom light was acting like it was tripping on LSD (come on, flash, flicker, dimly glow, flash, repeat the cycle…) Seeing as I have cathedral ceilings with fluorescent lights, the landlord’s worker crew would have to come and change the bulb. I called them , and they said they would send someone over. While I was at the gym, they left me a voicemail telling me that they were sending someone over at 11:30. When I got back at 12:30, the ladder was still set up in my room, but the worker was no where in sight. I waited 15 minutes and then the guy came back. He was in and out for the next hour, so I showered and then told them I was leaving. I knew they had keys, and that they would lock up. So when I got home at 5pm, I come in and notice that my bedroom door is closed (tightly)...it's never closed tightly, it always sticks. I just assumed that they must have filed the door and fixed it while they were here (yet another issue that I asked them to fix). But when I tried to open the door, it wouldn't budge and the knob wouldn't turn. I tried to body slam the door (highly ineffective), and called the landlord...but clearly, they were gone at 5pm on a Friday. So I was bewildered as to what to do???
I walked around my apartment and contemplated my options. I was convinced that the door was just stuck, so I walked to the boys house across the street. One of them opened the door and just from looking at me was like, "oh Kelly...what did you do this time??haha) I told them that I just needed one of them to come over and kick on my door (I was clearly in denial and thought it was just “stuck”). So my 6'’3 neighbor friend comes over and started beating on the door like a mad man. It wouldn't budge, he was like, "you must have a lock on this door..." I was still convinced that I didn't. We tried taking the knob off, but it was painted to the door and not budging. So we concluded that we had to bust down the door...10 minutes of body slamming and kicking the door (it's in a tight hallways so there really wasn't any "wind up" room with his long legs) and we cracked the door open. So I am now the proud owner of a” Dutch door"...a top 1/2, a bottom 1/2 and the handle. Apparently, I did have a lock and the repair men locked the door when they left. Now why they did this, I don't know...especially because there isn't a key whole on the outside to let me back in. I called the landlord and left a message, informing them that I was going to need a new door. Seeing it was there retarded error (Who locks a door that can’t be unlocked from the other side) I informed them that I didn’t think I should have to pay for the damages. To my disbelief, they agreed.
And now moving onto the rest of the weekend.
My family was supposed to be arriving on Sunday. My mom, her sister, and my little sister were flying down, and my dad and his sister were driving down (I needed a car to get a lot of my stuff home). My mom’s flight was supposed to leave at 11:30, but at 10 am I get a call. It was my mom telling me that my dad was throwing up and that he had a migraine and was light headed. HE tried to drive (why he thought he could make a 6 hour drive in this state, I have no idea!?!?!?) but puked before reaching the end of the street, so turned around went back to bed. He was convinced that he would try again later in the day. My mom, aunt, and sister boarded their flight. I met them at the pregraduation festivities and my mom said, “Well Kel…dad isn’t driving. He’s going to fly in late tonight. He thought he could fly in at 6am, but don’t worry, I told him he had to get on the plan TONIGHT, even if he was puking, A 50 minute flight is better than a 6 hour drive” (Gee mom, that was so considerate of you…I’m sure that all the people on the flight are going to be thrilled. Hahah Anyways, he (and my other aunt) made it into Philly late that night. I guess my dad was fine, he felt much better…
Well Monday (graduation) was amazing. The weather was beautiful, the ceremony was great, and best of all (at least for my parents) they could rejoice at not having to write any more tuition checks (at least until Sessler #2 heads off to school, haha).
There was an interesting twist on Monday evening when I lost my cell phone at the restaurant where we had dinner. My family and the two families that I babysit for (14 of us in all) enjoyed a lovely dinner, but as the kiddos got rambunctious and started to run around, my purse got knocked off the chair. I picked up , what I thought was everything, and put the purse back on the chair. However, when I got home, I realized that my cell phone was no where to be found. Shit, what to do??? At first I was like, oh, I’ll just call the restaurant and see if they found it. WAIT, that’s right, I can’t do that! I lost my phone! But seeing as I don't have a land line, I wasn't really sure what to do. I had no way of contact any of my friends to meet up with the later, and I couldn't get in touch with my parents to have them help me out. Oh yeah, there was also that detail about having to meet up with them the next day, but I didn’t know where there hotel was located. Still bewildered about the predicament that I found myself in, I ended up having to go and borrow my neighbors cell phone to call my parents and get their hotel info and have them contact the restaurant. Did I mention that I’m not really friends with this kid and oh yeah, he answered the door in his boxers (red hearts….I’m pretty sure that he wasn’t along, whoops!) He told me to take the phone and then he came down a few minutes later and handed me his landline cordless phone to keep until the morning. At least I would be able to call my parents and let them know when I was coming over.. So that would have been great, except it died after I made one call. Oh well, it was the thought that counts.
So I was back at square one.
I had briefly gotten a hold of my mom and dad and they tried to call the restaurant, but they got "fluffed off" and the girl put them on hold for about 3 seconds, said- nope. not there. we'll call you if it turns up
Anyways, I went to bed, miserable and stressed. I didn’t get to go out and celebrate with my friends. College was over, my phone was lost, and I had no contact with the rest of the world.
I got up the next day and drove to what I thought was my parents hotel, but there were two Sheratons (a suites and a four points...) I went to the wrong one first, only realizing it was wrong after they told me there were no "Sesslers" registered at this hotel. I was ready to cry and they told me to go across the plaza to the other hotel. When I got there, I asked for my parents room, but they said that they don't give out room #'s and to call guest services. After finally getting connected with the operator, she asked if I wanted "Paul" or "Susan". I said it didn't matter because they were both our rooms (I knew my aunt and sister were in the other). Well I tried one, and there was no answer, so I went back through the operator and got connected to the other room...still no answer. At this point, I was ready to just sit down and pout until they gave me the info. Luckily, I just happened to glance around the corner and saw my family eating breakfast in the restaurant. They all got a good laugh out of my comedy of errors, but I lost it. I burst out crying and just sobbed and sobbed. Thank god that breakfast was over because it surely was a water works display for the few lingering guests. Plus, the napkins were cloth and my nose was runny….FYI, if you ever stay at this hotel, don’t use the napkins at dinner…I wiped my nose on them. haha.
My family was great at consoling me, But then we still needed to address the issue of the phone. Because the plan is in my mom's name, technically she had to go get the new phone, but instead she called and did something, so I was able to go to the store -once I got back to campus...(yes, we have a cingular, verizon, and sprint stores on campus....welcome to the city, haha). After finally picking out a phone, I am then told that they are discontinuing that particular one and that they can't sell it to me (so I wanted to know why it was still on display?!?!). Two choices later (the man really didn't get my point that I didn't need and/or want a MP3 player and video camera on the phone) I got my phone. I went through the activation line and walked out. I walk back to my house and try and call my parents (who were now on the plane home) only to hear, "We're sorry...your phone must 1st be activated and you must accept the terms on the service plan".... SO I walk back to the store, speak with a different guy and the issue finally gets resolved. And for the icing on the cake, I called the restaurant, just to see if by some miracle the phone had been found. I explained my situation to the woman and she asked me where I had been sitting. I told her, she went and looked, and came back and said, "Yup, it was right were you thought it was... under the table." After all that!
And here I am now. Actually, as I type this the repair men are putting up a new door (speaking their broken Chinese-English…I’m pretty sure that they are making fun of me and my “special door”) so that’s what’s new with me. Stay tuned, I’m sure there are more fun times to come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)