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.