I'm really losing my mind, I think. I thought that the 'rents were due in sometime tonight--when it turns out, their trip doesn't start until June 26th. The phone rang, and it was my dad.
"I felt bad after the last phone call, because you wanted to come down and see us, and I was telling you not to come."
"It's alright! Actually, this works out better--because I can still keep my schedule with Shelley in FL for July."
Then he went on about how his little league team hadn't been beaten in 60 games, and how he + the other coach were selected to coach the all-stars team again, making it 2 years in a row.
Then he started complaining how mom wants to re-paper the kitchen. If you saw this kitchen, you'd think she was crazy because it's been wallpapered perfectly only 5 years ago, or so.
Net-net, I don't hafta worry about them coming up for another 2 weeks--and this strangely appeases the anxiety that was building. Don't ask me why this delay makes a difference to my psyche, I haven't a clue. If I had to guess, I'd even say that come two weeks from now, I won't even be phazed; I'll totally be looking forward to them visiting. Maybe what had me on edge was the suddenness with which I'd originally anticipated them arriving. Because it was like, *poof* "Hey, were coming up tomorrow!"
But no, I'm an addlepated twit and got the dates totally bass ackwards.
OTHER NEWS
Jomidia (Priest for the Wayward) and I finally have a scheduled confession for this evening at Hennessey's over a few pints. We've put it off for nearly a year now. Not even a death in one of our families could make us see each other sooner, which is pretty sad. When he told me his father died (in an email), all I could do was offer my distant condolences (in an email). But we're going to right all that tonight, I think. We're beyond the mistake we made long ago. I don't even know if I documented it in its appalling detail before...we'll save that for another day.
...Hm, I'm just now reminded how Jeremy was frantically calling me a couple of weeks ago. He still owes me $230 for my Marshall half-stack I sold him (LIKE AN IDIOT) for $600, last AUGUST--which means he wouldn't contact me unless something was really important.
I finally got ahold of him on AIM, and he told me that the mother of one of my exboyfriends had passed away.
"You should send Paul a card... so at least he feels like he has some friends, you know?"
But... I'm *not* friends with Paul, and haven't been so in over a year. We don't talk. He's a bastard.
"Jeremy, won't he basically spit in my face if I try to do that?"
"Probably. But so what if he does?"
I've never been one to think that a death in your family is an excuse for me to reintroduce myself into your life by forcing my sympathy on you... especially if we've parted on bad terms (which we did). Who do I think I am, barging in on your reality during your time of crisis? Doing so is totally tasteless. Rude, even. It reminds me of student funerals in high school, and how the entire school would attend, when you know damn well that not everyone was friends with the kid or even KNEW who that person was. It's a false show of sympathy. And that's exactly what a card from me to Paul would've been.
"Alright, Jeremy--I'll send a card."
I didn't.
And a few days later, Paul tried to contact me on AIM--which never happens.
And you know what? As sad and wrenching as his situation must be to him, he is most definitely the type of scumbag who would try to use it for sympathy. To get sex.