m.i.a. for a little bit longer

Okay so I have to make this one quick; my dad's niece, her husband and 1-year-old are taking their first States-side tour from Dubai. They will be the first and only blood relatives we've had for a visit since my Nani lived with us for a year in the mid-'80s, so I've been in suburbia for the last several days overseeing the completion of home improvements that have been languishing unfinished for decades. (Seriously, if you want to finally get that box of tiles in the basement up onto the kitchen backsplash, just tell your dad that some long-lost relatives are flying in and you'll be amazed how fast it gets done.)

As for Citibank, I finally realized that they don't give a flying monkey dung about helping me; why would they lower my payments when they can pile on the late fees instead? I took out a loan from the only reliable bank in town, Mom & Dad LLC, got current and as soon as the family visit is over I'm going to try and get into one of those programs some other way. And find myself any kind of job with health insurance (those of you who are covered but have been putting off going to the doctor, get your heads out of your behinds and TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES). I've promised my dad that I will never speak to a Citibank representative ever again. I have thirty days, starting next week.

But I have about thirty seconds left to be on the computer--my childhood bedroom is not going to clean itself.

meet me at the flagpole after school

To all of you who emailed me privately, thanks so much for the support. And those of you who thought I didn't properly convey the utter WTF-ness of the firey hoop-jumping spectacle I've been put through the last few months by Citibank, I'm sorry. It was a lot longer and had more curses in it, but toward the end I started thinking about people out there who have it so much worse and dialed down the bitchfest a little.

I've logged in another three hours on the phone with them today, starting at 8 a.m. when they called. The first person spent 15 minutes describing this program I can get into and what I need to do to get into it and then at the very end realized it only applies to people who have regained employment and need a break to catch up.

I was transferred around, found out my credit score actually IS in the toilet now and then was told I need to re-fax my proof of unemployment AGAIN. Then the number was rejected by the fax machine. Good times. Also that woman who said paying that money would clear my account of delinquency? No one seems to know who she is, and if I try to get them to rectify the situation, it's going to be a She said/She said thing resulting in me being screwed.

I have a bunch of of other, much more sunny things to post about (the hole in my mom's back yard, EB's wedding) coming up, but they'll have to wait until I get away from the dialup. In the meantime I'm thinking of writing the president a letter about how this bailed-out behemoth is using the billions it got. And for an extra-curricular activity to my full-time job of being on hold with them, I'm gathering a posse to kick Citibank's collective ass. Who's with me?