I didn't sleep too well at C & B's house the other night. More importantly, when I came back home the next day, I discovered that there is no dead-bolt on the house door. Apparently, it just got stuck a little, and I panicked and assumed that it was still locked. I guess the joke's on me.
I'm at a complete loss for an appropriate quote right now, so we're going to do something different this time: You send me your best quote, and I'll choose my favorite one and award 100 points to the winner. (Also, for my own entertainment, I'll do my best to guess where each one originated.) The last quote was from The Lake House, which I watched on Sunday with C.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
so here's the deal
First off, I just want to apprise everyone that I did, indeed, take the Master's Comps Exam. It was this past Friday (June 8), and I'm now trying not to think about it, or else I'll drive myself crazy trying to figure out how it did.
So, right now I'm staying with Margo near Wichita -- and Margo it staying with her parents -- and her parents are living in their parents' house. But Margo and her family left on a week-long vacation this morning, leaving me here to house-sit. At the same time, though, Margo's grandparents are in town for just the weekend, leaving tomorrow or the day after. They arrived this afternoon while I was at church, and they were out for a family gathering when I returned, and then I was out all night with some friends from the local singles branch.
When I got back to the house tonight, around 11:00 pm, I parked the car quietly out at the curb, noting the unfamiliar car in the driveway -- which, as I rightly assumed, belonged to Grandma and Grandpa. I turned off the ignition, gathered my things together, got out, and walked up to the front door, taking out the house-key that Margo had left with me for my week alone. Moving as quietly as possible, I placed the key in the lock and turned it -- the wrong direction. Other doo-dads on my key-chain hit the lintel as I did so, and I quickly stifled them. Working even more carefully, I turned the key the other direction, pleased to hear the soft click of the bolt sliding back. But when I pushed on the door, it wouldn't open.
They had locked the dead-bolt.
Not knowing what else to do, I re-locked the bolt I had just loosened, and then walked around by the side of the house to see if, by any chance, there might be a way to get into the backyard from there -- like there used to be at my parents' house when I was growing up. I soon realized, though, that even if I could get into the backyard, I still wouldn't be able to get into the house from there. So I stood stock still in the middle of the driveway, trying to decide what to do.
As I saw it, there were two options. I could ring the doorbell and wake up Margo's grandparents, apologize profusely for getting them out of bed, and then feel like a jerk for making a fuss when I'm already staying in their home for free. Or I could return to friends' apartment I had just left and ask to spend the night on their couch.
I decided to first call Margo, to find out if she had any particular advice or wisdom for the situation. She might be able to tell me whether it would be a bad idea to wake up her grandparents. Walking back to the car, I got in, unrolled the windows, and called Margo on my cell phone. No answer.
So I called the only other person whose advice I felt I could trust -- and who I knew would still be awake at eleven o'clock in the evening. Erin's sister answered on the third ring and handed the phone over right away. Erin laughed with me about my quandary, and eventually we decided it was better to spend the night at C & B's place than to wake up grandparents I barely knew.
And thus it came about that I am spending the night away from my new Kansas home, in the apartment of a couple of brand-new friends -- people I hardly knew until about three days ago, and who have very kindly taken me on as a friend during my Kansas stay -- with no toothbrush, no pajamas, and whole lot of gratitude.
So, right now I'm staying with Margo near Wichita -- and Margo it staying with her parents -- and her parents are living in their parents' house. But Margo and her family left on a week-long vacation this morning, leaving me here to house-sit. At the same time, though, Margo's grandparents are in town for just the weekend, leaving tomorrow or the day after. They arrived this afternoon while I was at church, and they were out for a family gathering when I returned, and then I was out all night with some friends from the local singles branch.
When I got back to the house tonight, around 11:00 pm, I parked the car quietly out at the curb, noting the unfamiliar car in the driveway -- which, as I rightly assumed, belonged to Grandma and Grandpa. I turned off the ignition, gathered my things together, got out, and walked up to the front door, taking out the house-key that Margo had left with me for my week alone. Moving as quietly as possible, I placed the key in the lock and turned it -- the wrong direction. Other doo-dads on my key-chain hit the lintel as I did so, and I quickly stifled them. Working even more carefully, I turned the key the other direction, pleased to hear the soft click of the bolt sliding back. But when I pushed on the door, it wouldn't open.
They had locked the dead-bolt.
Not knowing what else to do, I re-locked the bolt I had just loosened, and then walked around by the side of the house to see if, by any chance, there might be a way to get into the backyard from there -- like there used to be at my parents' house when I was growing up. I soon realized, though, that even if I could get into the backyard, I still wouldn't be able to get into the house from there. So I stood stock still in the middle of the driveway, trying to decide what to do.
As I saw it, there were two options. I could ring the doorbell and wake up Margo's grandparents, apologize profusely for getting them out of bed, and then feel like a jerk for making a fuss when I'm already staying in their home for free. Or I could return to friends' apartment I had just left and ask to spend the night on their couch.
I decided to first call Margo, to find out if she had any particular advice or wisdom for the situation. She might be able to tell me whether it would be a bad idea to wake up her grandparents. Walking back to the car, I got in, unrolled the windows, and called Margo on my cell phone. No answer.
So I called the only other person whose advice I felt I could trust -- and who I knew would still be awake at eleven o'clock in the evening. Erin's sister answered on the third ring and handed the phone over right away. Erin laughed with me about my quandary, and eventually we decided it was better to spend the night at C & B's place than to wake up grandparents I barely knew.
And thus it came about that I am spending the night away from my new Kansas home, in the apartment of a couple of brand-new friends -- people I hardly knew until about three days ago, and who have very kindly taken me on as a friend during my Kansas stay -- with no toothbrush, no pajamas, and whole lot of gratitude.
Great -- our first fight. You can write a song about it and go sing it in San Francisco. (23 points; the movie we watched tonight, which was just all right -- not great, not terrible, just OK)
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