Real Estate Blunders 303

My real estate agent couldn't just stop with the inspection retardation. Oh no, this little piece of work had to leave me her card on my kitchen table with a "PLEASE CALL ME!!!" scribbled on it violently. What is wrong with people? Honestly. She was at my place in the morning. Here's a crazy idea...if she needed to talk to me, why not, I don't know... CALL ME! She had my mobile, work number, etc. Instead the evil woman made me wait all night long wondering what she needed to talk to me about. Was my cleanliness not up to her standards? Did she disapprove of my clutters? Was there some clause in my contract saying that butterflies were not allowed?

So I went to bed thinking about what she could possibly want. Around 2am I woke up having the worst allergic reaction I have had in at least three years - and definitely the worst one I've ever had with no obvious triggers. If I walked into a house full of cats and they all jumped on me, I would understand. If I hang around a pet shop too long, I wouldn't be surprise if I felt ill. If someone with a wool jacket rubs up against me, I'd expect to start itching. (Yes, I know, I'm pathetic, and I should just live in a bubble.) But I was just laying there in bed - my bronchial tubes were spazzing out and I was wheezing and coughing - feeling like soon I wasn't going to be able to breathe. The first thought that entered my brain was: "Maybe the witch is trying to poison me out of my apartment!" Okay, maybe not, but it was really weird!

Anyhoo, I took an antihistimine and about an hour later, I was fine....

to be continued...

Real Estate Agent Blunders 202

I was sooooo sleepy last night and had to go to bed early. I think I'm sufferring from some sort of protein deficiency or something because I've been craving the strangest things. Do you know what I've ordered for breakfast the last couple days? Toasted sandwiches. But what was in those toasted sandwiches? Melted cheese, fried egg, and...baked beans!!! What the heck is that all about? I have never ever had beans in a sandwich before. But that's what I've been craving and I enjoyed them, dammit!

I forgot to mention this earlier, but HUGE thanks to the lovely Claudine for the most beautiful butterfly bracelet. I actually own absolutely nothing like it - which is amazing, since I am a butterfly freak. Just goes to show there are still new things out there for me! Thanks, C! I love it!

Okay, so back to my dumb-ass Real Estate Agent. I was up at the crack of dawn to vacuum the apartment etc. She was supposed to come over to inspect the place at 8.45am. At 9am, I ring her. She had forgotten about the appointment. She tells me she will be there in 10 minutes. 9.30am. She's not there and I'm officially late for work. I call her again. No answer. Wait 10 more minutes. I call again. No answer. I leave a message saying I'm leaving for work now. I call work to apologise, telling them the lady never showed up but I'm coming in straight away. As I arrive at my office building, I get a call from this flake asking me where I am.

I told her I left a message saying I had to go to work. She told me it was very irresponsible of me to leave like that. I told her it was very irresponsible of her to a) show up over an hour late and b) forget that we had the appointment in the first place. Anyway, I don't actually know what they inspect during an inspection. I hope she doesn't care about any random clutter - I mean, she did just let me know this was happening less than 24 hours beforehand...oh well. Hopefully I won't hear from her for a LONG time!

I should be doing a great deal of work tonight on my extra-curricular projects, but I'm too pooped. Going home to watch 24 and then going to bed - yay!

Real Estate Agent Blunders 101

Just had a fleeting heart attack - my real estate agent left a message on my mobile asking me to call her back. In the nearly three years I've lived in my apartment, they've never called for something good. I'm not behind on my rent dammit! I was worried they were going to say they were trying to kick me out again. The agent chick called me back several hours later, after I left a message...

Her: "I'm calling to tell you there was a mistake in the letter we sent you."

Me: "What letter? I never received any letter?" (Feeling nauseated, thinking of another pseudo eviction letter.)

Her: "Oh I definitely sent it."

Me: "Well, I definitely didn't receive it."

Her: "Do you receive mail?"

Me: "No, I have no friends. No family. I am a loser orphan who never receives mail." < / fantasy >
Me: < reality > "Yes, I receive mail, real actual mail and junk mail, all the time."

Her: "Oh wait, yeah, your letter came back to me."

Me: "So you have my letter - the one I didn't receive."

Her: "Yeah, it came back to me."

Me: "What did you have as the suburb?"

Her: "Broadway."

Me: "I live in Chippendale."

Her: "Oh."

Doh! She's my real estate agent - how can she not know what suburb I live in! Granted, that really shouldn't affect the delivery of my mail. I know there are some angry postal workers out there. They used to cross out Broadway all dramatically in red pen and write over it: CHIPPENDALE in capital letters if people writing to me put the wrong suburb, but they always actually delivered the mail. Are they actually not delivering it now? I find that hard to believe. It's 2007 vs. 2008, everyone knows my street. Gimme a break. So, either that's what happened with my pseudo eviction letter, or my real estate agents are just idiots. I vote for the latter. I mean during the whole pseudo-eviction thing, this chick actualy said that the eviction letter came back to them in the mail. Now, wouldn't you think, "Hmmm, the resident has not received this eviction notice, as it came back to us, unopened - maybe she has no idea we've evicted her!"

Anyway, the good news is she just wants to come inspect the apartment. But the bad news is that I have to clean the apartment tonight! Oh well, it's a good excuse.

I was attempting to straighten up my bedroom on Sunday, i.e. hang up my clothes, make my bed, organise my books, pack up old immi.gration papers crap, vacuum etc, but I so did not want to clean my room that I procrastinated severely. Do you know what I did? I went through photos and ticket stubs from the last 3 years and I wrote letters to my Japanese pen pals who I haven't written to in about 10 years! (No kidding.) On the upside, I did write a letter to my grandmother (Babci) and as the sweetie writes me a letter every week, it's about time I sent her a letter back. What will I do to procrastinate tonight? Sort my CDs by colour? Arrange my lint from biggest to smallest? We'll see.

Last night I went over to Ray's house. He needs a model for his photography class (no, not a nude model, thank you), so I spent a couple hours dolled up in butterfly outfits, playing the guitar and pretending to write deep poetry. I hope I didn't break Ray's camera. Now that Kristen isn't here, poor Ray is modelless. So much for the continuation of my weekend story and Bad Manners...right now I'm off to clean!

'Bad Manners', Music, and Motorcycles

Thursday and Friday I was in denial. That, "No way am I getting sick" denial. Where you're sniffling a bit, your head is hurting, you feel a little too warm and your throat's got that annoying dry thing happening and no matter how much you clear your throat, the cottonball feeling remains. But I wasn't feeling horrible, just weird. Pre-sick. And in denial.

I was determined to go out and hear some music though, so I went straight to Spi Bar after work. I knew if my butt touched my bed or couch for even 30 seconds, I would be in for the night. So I went and George St. was so packed, it took me a half hour to get from Haymarket to Bridge St. I should have walked. Old ladies were passing us. As I was about to get off, I look out the window and spot a young guy in a powersuit and think, "Is that Rocky?" So I ring him and say, "Rocky, are you on George St?" and he says, "Yes, I am! Where are you?" He was going to see Chad @ Spi Bar as well.

Small world! Rocky was there for 30 seconds, and then he had to run. I enjoyed Professor Groove & the Booty Affair and it was good to see Chad keeping them in line. Great set for relaxing into the weekend. Oh, and I got to taste the delicious "Honey Soy Chicken" chips. They are heavenly! I know they sound disgusting, but they're awesome. Chad and I went through 2 bags of those so quickly.

Just as I was about to leave and head off to Sydney Uni, Paulo arrived, scaring the crap out of me cause he just appeared out of nowhere. Poor guy got there too late to see Chad. So, we marveled at Chad being able to get all his gear in his little new trolley - it was very impressive. I was just going to take a bus to Sydney Uni and meet Gavin there. Paulo insists on driving me to Wynyard. I tell him not to be silly. It would take me like 3 minutes tops to walk to Wynyard and wait for a bus. But Paulo being the uber-gentleman insists that he must take me to Wynyard.

That's when I realise he's on his motorcycle. Okay, Mom and Dad, you might want to skip over this part. I start protesting. "Oh, um, actually, I've never been on a motorcycle before - I can walk, I swear." Paulo hands me a helmet. "So, you've never been in an accident before, right," I venture. Paulo says he hasn't, so I put on the helmet, but it won't go on cause my hair bun is huge. I took it out and made it into a pony tail. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but who cares? So I got on and Paulo said, "You can either hold on to the back of the bike, or put your arms around me." I was like, "Um, sorry, but I'm going to be holding on to you!" I'm sorry, I just don't know how people can feel safe holding on to the back of the bike! I warned Paulo that I might scream. Hell, I didn't know! He said to me gently, "You might get the urge to turn me when we turn a corner...please don't." Whatever you say, Captain.

So I held on to Paulo very gently and off we went. HOLY COW! Okay, it is a little scary, but geez that was fun! I can totally understand why people adore their motorcycles. I can see that being very addictive. It totally feels like you're flying. And we only went three blocks. ;-)

Anyway, I suddenly realised I'd had a couple of drinks on a relatively empty stomach (no dinner yet) and I needed to eat something quick, filling, and cheap as it was the end of the month, which means Lori is poor. Sigh. There was only one thing that would do the trick on a price I could afford: a quarter pounder with cheese. So I headed to McDonalds and Gavin rang.

"Where are you?"
"I'm at McDonalds. Dinner!"

Gavin laughed at me. He said he could pick me up. I wasn't going to argue with that. I asked him where I should meet him and I thought he said on George St. where the monorail is. I said okay...I mean, I thought that's what he said, but my mobile is useless and I was just guessing. So we hang up, I get my burger, walk outside and devour it. I may be the slowest eater in the world, but I can eat quickly. It is possible. I was basically walking along the sidewalk inhaling it when this car of young 20-something boys slow down and yell at me, "Woo-hoo! Go BIG MAC!" I put my burger down long enough to yell back, "Go Quarter POUNDER!" They laughed and yelled, "WITH CHEESE? YEAH, BABY!" And thankfully, they took off down the street. I do meet all the winners.

So, I'm where I think Gavin told me to be and realise it's a one-way street. He can't get here. So I call him and he says, "No, keep going down Market Street, over the Pyrmont Bridge." Oh. Doh. "So you want me to walk to your place?" Okay. So I walk...and it shouldn't have taken me THAT long, but I kept stopping to try to use a toilet at Darling Harbour and they were all locked. *POUT* Gavin calls to make sure I haven't been kidnapped. Then Damian calls. "I can't hear the bands," he says. I say, "Yeah, that's because I'm not at Sydney Uni yet....I'm actually, uhhhhh, in Pyrmont.." Silence. "But we'll be there very soon!" Damian says okay, he'll meet us there.

So I finally get my slow butt to Gavin's and we drive to the Manning Bar. I was going to check out Dap.pled Cit.ies. Fly cause I promised to go, but I wasn't particularly impressed. I mean, they were fine, but absolutely no big whoop whatsoever. Gavin and I entertained ourselves by pointing out things that our non-existent band would never do, that these guys were doing. "Gavin, see that? See that stupid thing he just did with the milk crates? How he made them talk? Our imaginary band would never do that." "Damn, straight, Lori!"

One of the problems, in my humble opinion, was that one of the singers/guitar players thought he was a comedian. Granted, he was funnier than Habib, but that's not saying much. What amazed me, though, much like Habib, was that the audience went wild even when they did dumb things. So, maybe I've become an old fart or something because even though Dap.pled Cit.ies didn't blow my hair back, the kids at Sydney Uni loved them. Either that or they were drunk and/or friends of the band...to be continued...I'll throw in the Bad Manners bit tomorrow!