Thursday, May 27, 2010

My cousins hate me and only send me bad news.

I love my cousins, but I fear they only call me with bad news. It's actually gotten to the point where I look at my cell phone, see a message from them, and go, "Uhoh, they aren't coming."

This makes me sad.

They have yet to come up because of this "supposed" birch allergy (I've never heard of such a thing, so I think they mean to say, "Sorry, I don't like the way you stalk our children with your fancy camera and it's a little nervy to want to play with them 24/7 so we can zonk out on the couch or have some time to ourselves for a change.")

They were supposed to come up last weekend, and after lunch on Friday I looked at my phone to see the time: "One missed call from tumbelweed" At first I was excited, but then I thought about it.. "Why would they call me this early? They aren't supposed to be leaving until 3.... Oh no!" My heart fluttered with panic. "They aren't coming."

It was torture all day, because all day I'd been bragging about how I'd get to see my adorable niece and nephew, and hang out with my cousins, and play boardgames, and have intellectual conversations that don't seem to happen as much when they aren't around. I had to wait two whole hours to find out if I'd have a glum weekend.

It's ok, though. I would rather know in advance. It's easier to be disappointed from noon on than it is to go another few hours with the delusion of happiness. The fall is easier, I think. Think first story, rather than 24th floor, you know?

Anyway, it's ok, because they said they'd come up the 11th. But, as I am out on my way to my doctor's appointment I realize I have a text from Tumbelweed. This is highly unusual, because 1) tumbleweed does not text; and 2) Well... it is just weird because she doesn't text. Anyway, the message had been a reply to a picture I'd texted to her e-mail. So I read it over and it read, "I have bad news."

Ug!!! Why!!! No!!! A second bad-news call!!!

Again, I'd rather know in advance, because thinking they are coming for 2 weeks is more like a fall from the moon than a 24 story building. And I understand the point; if I had a chance to make some extra money, I would definitely keep working. I almost chaperoned a field trip, but got rejected because I wasn't a guy. Not entirely fair, but I wouldn't want to share a bunk with a lot of teenage boys.

Anyway, regardless. I feel bad posting this because I don't want to hurt any feelings, but I'm pretty bummed, and bored, so I needed to do something. I do wish they would call me with some good news, though!!!!

Love you guys!!!


  1. Hold on a sec. Nothing has anything to do with my allergies. I've got pills and nasal spray and I am not afraid. Nerdy, but not afraid. Also, were sorry and we miss you guys like crazy and we love you. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

  2. Sweetie, first of all this is forced training. I'm desperately trying to get out of it, really I am, but I haven't managed to yet. Secondly, I'm NOT getting paid for the 3 Friday evenings and 2 full Saturdays that this training requires --in fact, if I want any credit for it at all I have to pay them $430. Otherwise, it just goes on my record that I attended the REQUIRED training.

    Don't you think I'd rather be with my husband, my kids and my psuedo-little sister/cousins and psuedo-big sister/aunt in Maine than in crappy PD in some sweaty BPS basement for EVERY WEEKEND IN JUNE? FOR FREE? Seriously?

    Trust me, the whole situation is so heart-breakingly awful that I didn't think I could feel worse about it until I read this.