Monday, April 06, 2009


Sorry to leave ya'll hanging there! I sort of forgot I'd set up that cliffhanger before running into the mountains...

So now that I've been gone a few days and had time to step away and unwind and get perspective, I'm going to - as Clay suggested - regale you with the lite version of my story. Because honestly, I'm sick of the full version and it's kind of boring anyways.

Tuesday night, after watching Idol at Manjiri's house down the street, I came home and got cozy on the couch. I read a little, I piddled on the Interweb a little, I turned on my Netflix and chose a Law and Order: SVU (always want to call is SUV) episode. Which scared the living daylights out of me. Which, in turn, led me to lock the extra lock on our door - the one we've agreed never to use because it locks behind us. (You're with me now, aren't you?)

Fast forward to 8:30 the next morning. Our buzzer buzzes loud, alerting me to a downstairs laundry drop-off. I shoot out of bed, completely in zombie mode, and zip downstairs. Three minutes later I'm back upstairs, lugging huge bags of laundry and 100% locked out. No phone, no money, no glasses and a hell of a lot of laundry.

Here's where I'm going to fast forward through the story because it just sucked and blergh - I don't want to barf through it again.

I called our landlord from the buzzer downstairs and he was, as usual, super unfriendly. I convinced myself he hung up on me a few times, though I later learned the buzzer hangs up automatically after 20 seconds. Of course, he didn't take the time to explain this to me whenever we'd get re-connected, so I kept getting angrier and angrier.

His basic message that finally sunk in, after back and forth speaker talk while trucks zoomed by and waiting and thinking he was coming and using a wire clothes hanger to try and pick the lock and sitting on the floor and thinking about pancakes and crying and knocking on doors that weren't answered and realizing duh, I had 10 pounds of laundry to cover up my body and slipper socks to cover up my feet was:

It's not my fault you locked yourself out of your apartment. I'm not coming to help you. You can walk yourself down to the Marina and pick up a key or call a locksmith.

(This is getting longer than I thought.)

At this point, I finally got my beyond-nice next door neighbor to answer the door (she's funemployed, too and was watching a surfing movie) and we sat on the couch and I was teary and hungry and my hair looked terrible and I was so blind.

Now. In a choose-your-own-adventure book, I'd choose the following option:

Borrow some money from neighbor. Borrow phone from neighbor. Call a cab. Take cab to Marina and pick up spare set of keys. Take cab back to apartment, open door, put on glasses and real clothes. Return neighbor's things. Drive my car down to Marina and return spare set of keys. Go to sleep.

But instead, because I was so discombobulated and overemotional and not thinking like a person but maybe a monkey after being locked out for four hours and not wanting to deal with my landlord I:

Cried to my neighbor. Borrowed her cell to call a locksmith. Sat on the couch and talked about I-can't-even-remember with neighbor while we waited. Got into apartment after locksmith played with lock and charged me an arm and a leg. Sat on the couch and pouted, sad that my arm and leg were gone.

Whew. So that's my story. Not super interesting after all, but since it was half my day on Wednesday, it felt earth shatteringly important at the time. But then I went snowboarding and I conquered the dreaded S-turn and life is in perspective!

And one more thing. After the smoke cleared, we realized life's too short to deal with a creepy landlord and a super loud street. So we're back to looking seriously again for a new rental. Found a sweet one yesterday, made a lowball offer cuz that's how we roll...and now we wait. And wait.

Tahoe pics coming your way soon. Something about the mountain air made me get all diva on the Rockband microphone. You'll see.


  1. I'm glad you didnt mention my breaking out 'no negotiating in front of you' vow...

  2. blech, sorry that happened to you! sounds like something i would totally do.

  3. i would have probably thrown myself onto the floor screaming.

    i'm a little dramatic in those situations. i'm proud of you.

  4. Anonymous6:32 AM

    Hide the necessary keys somewhere outside and live without fear ever after.

    P.S. Hide a car key on your car also - used more than you can imagine when you have a shared car.


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