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   Friday, April 01, 2005  

Thieu has been away for the last couple of days (back tonight) visiting his grannie in Adelaide. She's 93, almost 94, still living at home on her own. The moment Thieu left, Vaughan, the enormous huntsman, appeared in the hallway. The first night he seemed reasonably content to hang outside my door, but from the way he eyeballed me everytime I walked by I could tell he had plans to try and commandeer my room.

So I decided to thwart him by leaving the door tightly shut when I went to work. The next night when I got home, he was no where to be seen. And the same again last night. I spoke with Thieu and told him about our current guest. Thieu's grannie was listening in the background.
"Grannie says just scoop it up in a container and shake it outside." Thieu said.
"But I'm worried it will scuttle up my arm and onto my face." I whimpered.
"Grannie said it won't. She said if you're too scared to do that then just through a tea-towel over it and scoop it up that way."
This seemed like a much worse option. You would probably be able to feel the spider wriggling and trying to escape.
"I can't do that." I said. "Because I don't know where it is."
"Oh." said Thieu.
"Ask your grannie if she'd be prepared to come over and remove it for me, once it turns up again."
There was a pause.
"She said she'd be happy to. If you provide the airfare."

Of course, the spider did show up again later that night.
In my bedroom. I don't know how he did it. All I can think is he climbed out the bathroom window, scaled the outside wall and re-entered my room through the window. Like bastard.

I accepted defeat and went and slept in the spare room.
Which is quieter, anyway.
   posted by *mcb* at 8:36 AM


   Thursday, March 31, 2005  
Real Estate Agents and Contracts

Last night as I fell through the door, exhausted and a little headachy, the phone rang. Let me say that I was very, very polite to start with. I told the guy that Thieu wasn't there and would he like me to take a message. Then he revealed he was a real estate agent. We seem to be plagued by real estate agents at the moment. Word seems to have spread throughout the real estate world that Thieu is on the point of selling his flat and the real estate agents are madly vying with each other to be the one to do the job. This would all be fine if it were true, but as far as I know, Thieu has no intention of selling his flat, which makes the constant calls somewhat annoying.

So I must admit I tuned out somewhat at that point and collapsed on our new sofa (have I mentioned our new sofa? It's new. Leather.) and started going "uh huh, mmm" as the guy rambled on. I still consider this to be very polite, really. I could've told him to get lost. Then he wanted me to write down a contact number. Now, I'm sure I've written down his number before and I know Thieu has spoken to him so I must admit I didn't really see the need. Additionally, I was far from keen to get off the sofa (so nice and new) so I cunningly pretended to get a pen and write down the number.

Unfortunately, the real estate agent was smarter than I had anticipated.
"Can you read that back to me, please?" he said when he'd finished.
"No, I can't." I said.
"You didn't write it down, did you?" he said, icily.
"No." I admitted. "I didn't." I was laying down on the sofa by this stage, wondering where the huntsman that was hanging around in the hallway yesterday had gone. (The only thing worse than a spider in your hallway is a vanished spider.)
"Why not?"
I decided to be honest. "You call every week. I'm getting sick of it." (I think I may have actually said "Frankly, I'm getting sick of it.")
Then he started to let forth.
"Well, there's no need to be so rude." he said, his voice rising.
"Oh but that wasn't rude." I said. "This is rude." And I hung up the phone.
And stretched out on the sofa.

The other thing that happened last night was that a contract arrived from the publishing company I'm writing a kids' book for. The whole thing is fairly nepotistic as I know the commissioning editor, but as I keep telling everyone, I don't think she'd publish my stuff just because we are friends. But it's definitely a foot in the door. Either way, I've got a contract to write a book (even if it's only 7000 words) and I'm quite excited.
   posted by *mcb* at 8:22 AM


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