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5:41 a.m. - 2002-04-19

ENTRY #1,000

Whee.

Okay...I know I promised a big fancy out of the ordinary entry here today to celebrate my 1,000th entry.

But I uhhhhhh...I left it at work.

Yeah. That's the ticket.

Sooo, big fancy out-of-the-ordinary entry will have to come on #1,001.

Which is still a big deal...right?

Gawd, I hope so. I sure don't wanna bust my ass on a big fancy out-of-the-ordinary entry and have it not be a special number.

Then again, I could always save it for entry #2,000.

Yeah.

You'd like that, wouldn't you?


Man.

I am STILL reeling from last night's episode of "Survivor".

That was by far the most thrilling episode ever. EV.ER.

I'm not going to bore those of you who don't watch the show or quit watching it with the details. But if you quit watching it...man...are you missing the best season yet.

It's one I wished I had on tape. Especially at the end when the loser started sobbing. I had never seen a loser cry like that, but hell...it had to be quite a shock. I probably would have cried too.

"Mama, I'm sorry. I ... I ....I ... LOST! WAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHA!!!"

Jeez.

What an episode.


Soooo...went to the lawyer's office yesterday.

Basically, he told us what we needed to hear ... since we have a paper trail of transactions made, my in-laws are responsible for their debt and any court of law in this state would find for us.

BUT...do everything in our power to resolve this outside of the courtroom.

...Mainly because it will cost us between $2,500 and $3,000 to sue them.

Sooooo...this past Monday, Susie told her mother that she had until Friday (today) to decide what they were going to do to pay off their tab.

I'm sure we won't hear from them today. They've laid low all week. That's what they do when we ask for our money...they conveniently "get busy" and "forget" to call us.

Tomorrow, we will call them and see what the deal is. Her Mom will say "I just didn't have time to get by the bank this week Sweetie. I'll do it on Monday."

So Susie will say "Okay, I will swing by your house at noon on Monday and we'll go to the bank TOGETHER."

Granted, her Mom will take off about 11:45 and go drive around town for a few hours to avoid Susie. That's how she operates. Then Monday night, Susie will call her Mom and her Mom will say she had an emergency...a friend broke down on the side of the road or something and she had to go pick them up and we'll do it tomorrow.

...And the whole process starts over again.

...Except this time, on Monday night, Susie and I will tell her that no...we have spoken to a lawyer and we are going to begin the litigation process on a case that we will win. A case that will find her paying court costs, lawyer fees and interest on the loan that we weren't going to charge her for.

That's where the game changes.

...Just like Survivor last night.

Wheee!


So anyway, we went to the lawyer, he says we'd win, then he asks us if we need a will drawn up.

Sure. We need a will. Draw one up, Chuckles.

So he gets all this information from us and gives it to his substitute secretary.

This girl came in at the last second because the guy's real secretary had an emergency and couldn't be at work (I wanted to ask if my mother-in-law was his secretary, but fought the urge).

So this substitute has a four month-old baby boy.

Who just got his first shots the day before.

Who's still in pain.

And crying.

And crying.

And crying.

So Susie and I try to get the baby to be quiet while the mother fills in all the blanks for our will.

The lawyer said it would take ten minutes.

At the 20 minute mark, Mama was STILL typing slower than a blind quadraplegic. I was checking my watch because I had told my evil boss that I would be gone for an hour and I was treading into 90-minute waters.

Finally, the secretary finishes the will and begins to print it out.

Oops.

She doesn't know how to use this printer.

Susie has experience with every printer ever manufactured. So she shows her how it works. The secretary thanks her and we resume the printing process.

Oops.

There's a paper jam.

So the secretary is yanking pages out and noting how they look like "accordions".

Ha.

The accordion charade goes on for another ten minutes.

Screaming baby.

Will not printing.

Me running late.

In-laws spending my money foolishly.

Blood pressure rising.

I understand the whole "disgruntled postal worker" mode now.

Finally the lawyer steps out of his office, can't believe that we're STILL here and says for us to go and come back today when they get the things printed correctly. He also told the secretary to take her baby home. Something about a baby screaming non-stop is not the kind of thing you want hanging around a law office for eight hours.

So we left. And have to go back again today to sign the papers for our wills.

Whee.


Buried the St. Joseph figurine in the front yard last night to help sell the home.

Naturally, Nosy Assed Neighbor had to come out to see what was going on.

I told her and she sneered.

"Maybe you should bury a Madonna figurine and a Star of David so you cover all the angles," she muttered.

I grimaced.

She repeated the line for Susie's amusement as well. Susie was as amused as I was.

NAN then stood there and went down her shopping list of everything wrong with our home that we'd need to fix before we sell the house again. This marks at least the fourth time she's told me that we needed to put a new roof on the house.

We don't. The realtor, whose opinion I trust a whole lot more than my hermit neighbor, says it's fine.

We just let her babble as we dug up dirt and planted flowers.

It does the woman good to think that people are actually paying attention to her.


What about this 20 year-old girl who won the lottery in Georgia?

Can you imagine the self-esteem issues her boyfriend is going to be having now?

BOYFRIEND: "What do you want to do tonight, honey?"

MULTI-MILLIONAIRE GIRLFRIEND: "I want to buy a car."

BOYFRIEND: "I want to see a movie instead."

MULTI-MILLIONAIRE GIRLFRIEND: "Have fun. I'll just call my new friend Brad Pitt and we'll go buy cars and then fuck afterwards."

BOYFRIEND: (sighs) "Fine. We'll buy a car."

What cracked me up as I watched bits of the press conference on yesterday's "Today" show was how the boyfriend was dressed at the press conference to announce his girlfriend was now one of the richest people in the country.

He had a faded concert t-shirt on. The cheap ones...the black t-shirts with a band's logo and some picture that had nothing to do with the band that you buy in a parking lot on the way to a concert. But it had been worn and washed so much, it was more gray than black.

Dude...you're about to be put in front of several million people...can you at least wear a newer t-shirt?

Plus, he looked to be in his 30s. The guy had wrinkles. Dating a 20 year-old.

I bet they're already broken up and she's dating a Backstreet Boy.

...If any of those Backstreet Boys are actually straight.


And Robert Blake was finally arrested for murder a year after his wife was found killed.

Big shock there.

...once again...that was sarcasm.

If you recall, Blake and his wife were leaving a restaurant when he went back inside to get his gun that he had left inside the restaurant.

Yeah, I have that same problem. I'll go to Walmart and dammit all to hell....I'll get all the way out to the parking lot before I remember that I left a live bomb behind the toilet in the employee restroom.

So Blake goes inside, gets his gun, comes back out to the car with his gun in his hand and ... WOW! His wife's dead!

How did THAT happen?!?

Gosh, what a coinky-dink!! Blake standing there with a gun in his hand, his wife chillin' in the front seat of their car with a bullet wound in her head and Blake saying he didn't do it. Gosh...we believe you Mr. Blake! You used to be in a TV show in the 70s, so you couldn't POSSIBLY be capable of lying!

Sheesh.

Damned OJ wannabes...


Got the pastor and his wife coming over for dinner tonight.

He doesn't eat anything dairy related. She doesn't eat meat.

We can either fix waffles or dry toast.

That's it.

Maybe we'll fix a dry toast waffle casserole or something.

With ice or something.

I love these people to death, but man...you've really got to get creative when you invite them over for dinner.


Sorry this wasn't the big entry I promised. But it's coming.

I promise.

I'll have it to you on Monday.

I swear.

I'm not trying to blow you off. I'm not promising you I'll do something and then not doing it.

I'm serious.

We'll go to the bank on Monday and I'll withdraw that entry for you and you'll be happy.

You know.

As long as a friend doesn't have an accident or anything.

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