I think I must be excited to leave, because I accidentally left one of my friends an IM saying “tonight’s my last night in North America.” Which it isn’t. Tomorrow is my last night in North America. Tonight is nothing of great interest, except the night before the workmen who were supposed to be working on our bathroom for the past six weeks but instead refused to return our (i.e. my parents’) phone calls are actually coming back in. We’ll see.
Did I mention the saga of our bathroom? I should do that. Here it goes:
About two and a half years ago, we noticed a big nasty stain in the family room ceiling below the master bath. Since the house was shortly going to have exactly two people in it, my parents were in no real rush to get it fixed. They had been considering various sorts of renovations for a long time, and this seemed to be their chance. So the meditated on their choices for two years, and eventually came up with a plan. They would rip apart the master bath and the surrounding rooms and create a master suite, with a much larger, fancier bathroom and a lot of stuff. They called in workmen, who with great efficiency demolished the old master bath and began construction.
During the plumbing process, one of the workmen was standing on the floor joists putting in pipes when he lost his balance and put his foot through the ceiling of the room below, making an enormous hole that is directly over my head. A few minutes later, they tested the pipe running over the hole, which was not properly sealed, and poured water through the large hole in the ceiling the room below. Later that week, they failed to seal another pipe, which leaked onto the ceiling, creating more unsightly brownish stains.
Once the major plumbing was done it was time for tiling. After a process too complicated for me to describe, involving multiple returns and a growing friendship with the tile clerk at a nearby home improvement warehouse, the bathroom floor and wall tiles arrived, at which point the workmen vanished. After a few weeks my parents grew anxious and called them, only to get no response. Repeated calls either got no response or a promise to arrive by Tuesday, which inevitably failed to occur. Eventually, my mother devised a secret plan. She invited them to dinner.
Like all of my mother’s bizarre schemes, this worked perfectly. At least, they showed up to dinner. Tomorrow we’ll see if they show up for work.
A lot of stuff has happened since I got back. It’s been Yom Kippur, which means lots of dressing up and going to temple (except the temple has way too many members for its building, so it appropriates the middle school auditorium) for services a couple of times, and eating tasty tasty food with friends, including one or two who I hadn’t seen in a long time. Then today, for no particular reason, we had a family reunion. There’ve been at least 40 friends and relatives through this house in the past two days.
I also had to complete my assignment for this inane CMI-CI-M seminar (don’t ask), one of the inane results of which you can see here.