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Dru wrote:
>don’t blame you for being upset about having
>to quit the CD Shack. That was the best
>job! Who’ll give me a 15% discount after you’re gone?
You’re preachin’ to the choir, sister (I heard Brother say that to Mom when she told him that maybe they should have stopped at just one child, which I have to tell you is so funny I almost ralphed up my spleen laughing. Not! I mean, really, what sort of thing is that to say about me when I’m standing right there having my nervous breakdown because That Woman said I could only have ONE box to pack all the stuff that won’t fit into the two suitcases that’s all we’re allowed to take on the plane–TWO SUITCASES!!! To go to England! For a whole, entire YEAR! It’s like a physical impossibility to try to fit everything you need into two suitcases and one box, right? I knew you’d agree.)
Where was I? Oh, yeah, the worst of it is that Brother said we can’t take any of the computers, because it would cost too much in shipping and some sort of money he has to pay on bringing stuff in to England. Evidently they make you pay when you’re going to live there for a while. Anyhoo, Brother said I couldn’t bring my iMac, and he wasn’t going to bring his PC, which means we’ll have nothing, nada, zippo! I’ll have to type papers and stuff on a typewriter, and would you please tell me how I’m supposed to type stuff up without a spellchecker? It’s impossible. We’ll have no Sims, no Internet, no Google for looking up stuff, no checking out hottie websites, no chat rooms, no message boards, and worst of all, NO E-MAIL!!! What am I supposed to do without e-mail? I’ll die without e-mail! I tell you, it was a major crisis of colossal proportions.
On top of all that horrible news, Brother tried to totally ruin the pathetic shredded remains of my life. You remember on my birthday how Mom and Brother said I could have a cell phone of my own when I started eleventh grade? Well, last night I just so happened to have reminded Mr. Insanity of that.
"What are you talking about?" he asked as he stuffed another book in one of his boxes (he gets three–like that’s fair?).
"The cell phone you promised me," I said very patiently, because you know how it is with Old People–you have to repeat stuff a lot. "You said I could have one when I started school. You said it on my birthday. In front of witnesses. Lots of witnesses."
"I don’t remember any such thing," Brother said, ignoring me to look at some musty old book. "Ah, the Gray-Fitzpayn Book of Hours. My first introduction to illuminated manuscripts. I worked all summer when I was twenty to save for this facsimile. I certainly couldn’t leave this behind."
"I thought you’d say that," I said, walking over to stand at the bottom of the stairs. "The bit about the cell phone, not the thing with the hour book. MOM!"
"What?" she yelled down from the bathroom (she’s packing towels. Can you believe that? She’s packing TOWELS. A whole box is going to be towels, while I have to leave everything important behind).
"What did Brother say about me getting a cell phone?" I bellowed.
There was silence for a moment, then she yelled back, "He said you could have one when you started school."
I turned my back to the stairs and smirked at Brother.
"I must have been mad," he muttered, then got the wild look in his eyes that he always gets when he knows I have him trapped.
"Doesn’t matter, everyone heard you say it. So, I’ve been doing some research on English phones, and I found a really cute hot pink one that’s not really that expensive–"
"No!"
"You said I could have one!"
He ran his hand through his hair. "I know I did, and I’m sorry, Emily, but it just doesn’t make sense financially to pay for a cell phone that you’ll only use for a year."
"Mom says she’s going to get one! You said I could have one!"
"Your mother will need one, she’ll be driving around a strange country."
"Yeah, and I’ll be going to school in a strange country!" I pointed out.
"Which means you won’t know anyone, so you won’t need to have a phone for them to call you."
"GAH!" I yelled. "You said I could! I can’t have my computer, and now I can’t have a cell phone, either? That’s it, I’m not going!"
I was preparing to go all Springer on him, but evidently his brain had a spasm or something kicked in because he said, "How about if we make a deal? I’ll change my mind on the computer issue if you give up the cell phone until we get back home."
I thought about it for a minute. "Which computer will we take? Yours or mine?"
"Mine," he answered, and held up his hands really quickly. "You can put your games and such on it if you like."
"And Internet? We’ll have Internet?"
He sighed. "Yes, we’ll have Internet. All right? Are you happy now?"
"And you’ll get me a cell phone the minute we get back? Promise?"
"I promise," he said, then made a face and started unpacking his box of books. He looked a long time at Book of Hours, but set it aside with a heavy sigh. "I’ll just have to give up a few books, that’s all. It’s not the end of the world. They’re just books. Very valuable, rare, one-of-a-kind books that mean everything to me, but still, just books. I only hope the import duty on the computer won’t wipe me out."
So that’s the latest in my horrible news. I won’t have a cell phone for a whole year. How cruel is that? But at least I’ll have e-mail! And my Sims.
Gotta go. I was looking at my box and figured out that if I left behind my big hot rollers and the soft touch hairdryer, I can fit Brother’s Book of Hours in my box. Am I the bestest daughter ever in existence, or what?
Later, chicky!
Hugsies,
~Em
What happens to Em in England?
Read the first chapter of The Year My Life Went Down the Loo
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